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Yeri.

“Wow, his majesty has keen eyes. How did he manage to take note of her?”

“Another jewel in his harem.”

“I hope she survives the night.”

“Look at her, she obviously won’t! She doesn’t have the strength of Orizon woman, she is weak and petite.”

My lips quiver and I pale at the hums of their conversations. What is about to happen to me? Is he about to me his mistress? The burly looking wolf who stood next to King Ozar seizes me by my arm and drags me towards a waiting carriage. There is a team of beastly looking horses, their flanks adorned with gleaming armours, standing ready to pull the carriage forward. Their hooves pounds against the earth, kicking up clouds of dust.

The carriage itself is carved from the finest oak, its sturdy frame bears intricate patterns of ancient wolf runes and symbols, one can tell from a mile away that it belongs to a very powerful king.  A king who has descended upon my people and reduced us to slaves. The gamma hoists me into the carriage, his eyes cold as he closes the door behind me. I look at the gammas from the window of the carriage, what did they mean by I wouldn’t survive the night?

“Another jewel in his court?”

It’s one thing to be slave and it’s much worse to be slave to the person who has taken everything from me in one day. My heart begins to pound as I think about what I heard from the engaging gammas. Why did they say I might not survive the night? Will he sleep with me? Will he hurt me? That must be the only reason why he picked me, he saw me fit for his chambers. I gasp, covering my mouth and tears releases from my eyes.

If I think back to what King Ozar looked like a minute ago, I cannot bear to even imagine it. He looked like everything the rumours proclaimed him to be. His kingdom is full of powerful wolves who are of descendants of a dragon bloodline. However, he is a pure kind, untarnished…I could tell from his aura, my wolf feared just being in his environment. It is as if he has power and control over everyone’s wolfs. How can I every say no to a person like that? How can I withhold my virginity from a wolf like that?

Where is Magnus? Why did he leave and turn his back away from his own sister and people? Being a princess, I paid no attention to the politics of Elanor. However, I had a duty to marry for the sake of our kingdom and was set to be married to a prince Collins of Orizon. In respect to that union, I began to research about what the people of Orizon were like. I was going to leave my kingdom and live amongst them, I wanted to prepare for it.

And that is when I came upon the legend of Ozar, the Alpha King who has the unblemished blood of dragons, they say he cannot be scorched by fire, his bite is hot as a dragon’s breath and his eye are nothing but dancing flames. I wondered who would be misfortuned to be the mate of such a man. I didn’t think I would land in the misfortune of being his mistress—what a twist of an unforgiving fate.

As I’m thinking about my fate, the door to the carriage opens and with measured steps, King Ozar ascends into the carriage, ducking slightly to accommodate his towering frame. I turn my face away as his presence fills the space, he smells of cedarwood and pine. His formidable stature seemed to eclipse the very sunlight that dared to touch his broad shoulders. Clad in intricately wrought armour, he takes his position in front of me and heart begins to pound. If he could sniff fear, he would smell it all over me. As the carriage rolled forward along the rugged terrain, I immediately lose my stamina but I catch myself back, doing everything to avoid falling into him.

“Princess Yeri.” He states, and it’s not a question, he knows me. His voice resonates with a deep timbre that seems to echo from the depths of his very soul. My lips quiver at the thought of that, just how much does he know about me?

“You will answer when I speak to you.” King Ozar says, his voice is rich with authority, each word pronounced with a sense of purpose and conviction. It carries the weight of centuries of tradition imbued with a rugged strength that commands attention.

“Yes.” I utter, a mere whisper and he leans down to look at me. I keep my gaze at my shoe, I haven’t looked him in the eyes, enough to tell what he fully looks like.

“It’s your majesty, to you.” He spells.

“Forgive me, your majesty.” I say.

“I don’t fault you. You are a princess nevertheless. So, it’s obvious that you would forget that you are now my slave.” King Ozar says and I cannot help but feel bitter, the only thing I can do is scrunch my feet.

“Do you know why I have you riding in my royal carriage? And lift your head, look at me when I speak to you.” He demands and I do as he orders. I raise my eyes to look at the face of treachery. Chiselled features, sculpted by the harsh winds of the northern seas, high cheekbones cast deep shadows beneath piercing blue eyes. Dark locks, cascading in wild waves around his broad shoulders, framing his face like a halo of sunlight.

Despite his undeniable beauty, there is a darkness that lurks behind. Yet, it is the subtle curve of his lips that truly sets hearts racing.

His smile is like a dagger concealed in velvet, enticing and beguiling, yet harbouring the potential for betrayal and deceit. It is a smile that knows no sincerity.

“No, your majesty. I don’t know why you have me riding in your carriage.” I answer, swallowing.

“Are you a virgin?” He asks and my heart begins to pound, I don’t wish to reply. I don’t wish to have a conversation with a bastard like him. I don’t wish to tell him anything that is so personal and intimate to me. Why is he asking? What would my answer do?

“Open your mouth and speak, princess Yeri.” He says.

“W—hy?” I say, using every bit of confidence left in me to talk.

“You are a woman I will keep in my harem. I need to know.” He says and my stare turns into a glare.

“I am not a whore.” I state, griping the fabric of my gown and breathing heavily.

“You are my slave and I will decide what you are.”

“I am a princess.” I state, squinting my eyes.

“With that kingdom?” He asks, relaxing his body on the carriage and fixing that velvety smirk on his face that shows he is nothing but the devil’s spawn. There is no remorse in it, no empathy, only a hunger for power and a thirst for dominance.

“Where is your king?” He asks.

“I won’t be your mistress.” I say, adamantly.

“Then, I will kill your people, one after the other until you accept.” He says and I cannot utter any word.

“Now, answer my question…are you a virgin, princess Yeri?”  He says, leaning in a manner where I can feel his breath, his eyes not blinking for a mere second.

“Yes, your majesty…” I answer, turning my face away as I answer.