Chapter 80: The Ceremony of Servitude — The Helpless Slave

Alpha Conan of Riverrock was known to be a very formidable Alpha. He was known for his keen sense of awareness, strategy...and a lover of women.

Many servants who have worked under him have seen the way he looked at them, especially the women.

Sometimes, men included.

Some had gossiped that he was a creep for anything that basically moved, or even hopped, or limped. Secretly, many called him the ’whore’ Alpha, but they never dared to let it out.

So when he stood up from his seat, not many were surprised.

"Well," He grumbled out, a short cackle following his words, "Let’s go see what it feels like to fuck the last living Rotblood there is,"

A few Alphas around him chuckled at his remark, and even Beatrice’s shoulders vibrated for two seconds, and that was it.

Selene watched with sparkling curiosity and entertainment shimmering in her eyes as the man started to work towards the stone Dias.

Alpha Conan was not amongst the Alphas Eclipse Crown had sent invitations to, but he was amongst the ones she had personally called in for the evening, and with his reputation, she knew he wouldn’t miss it for anything.

She glanced up at Malachi and saw that his expression was still as hard as ice.

How cold.

She’d thought of the possibilities that would make him stop this ritual from happening.

To save Della.

To give in to his feelings.

But none of that mattered to him anymore now that the mate bond between them was gone. He wouldn’t have to feel her disgusting emotions. He could now fully stare at her and see a monster lying there that deserved it.

Because she did.

For ever thinking for once that she could steal her man.

And once Cassian also deals with Beatrice — probably tonight — there would be nothing left standing in the way between Selene and Malachi’s love story to fully bloom.

Finally, Selene took her eyes off the Alpha of her dreams, and her gaze slid back to Conan, who was now closer to the naked slave, his eyes already devouring the sight in front of him like the twisted, ever-hungry man that he was.

He was literally staring at her like she was the first naked woman he’d ever seen before.

Della lay there, unable to free herself.

She couldn’t feel anything due to the pain, but at the same time, it was like the pain had turned into her nervous system and was now making energy, feeling like it.

Pain.

Her breath hitched, muscles straining and cramping as she felt hundreds of eyes crawling over her naked body. At first, she’d told herself that being naked was normal in the werewolf world.

It’s a part of the animal instinct not to wear clothes. In fact, you’d see a lot of people from many packs moving around, barely wearing anything.

But this was different.

Both of her legs were spread open, chained and wrapped enough for it to bite down with every desperate movement she made.

The blindfold made it impossible to see anything, not even the intense Moonlight that had raised every hair on her skin earlier — and that same lack of sight had also ignited the sensitivity of her other four senses.

Every breath felt loud in her ears, and weirdly, she couldn’t just hear hers, but she could also hear the ones of almost everyone in the room like one loud, rampant wind crashing into her ear.

Her hearing was also aggressive, picking up every little noise everyone made.

She heard the chuckles everyone made.

She heard the words ’devour’ and ’rotblood’ and the nasty, devious plans in her voices as they kept making remarks about her and her body, especially what they were going to do to her, which made her want to gouge her skin.

Plus, she could hear the sound of someone’s footsteps approaching her, and every one of it sounded like cracks of thunder, each sending shocks of fear running through her soul with every step.

Her skin had it worse.

Every piercing gaze was directed at it, and no part of her body was spared. She could feel them already ripping her skin apart with their insatiable feelings that seemed to get worse with each second that passed.

The person approaching finally stopped in front of her, and Della churned again in disgust, a feeling so overwhelming crashing into her body.

She could feel his eyes on her face.

Lips.

Breasts.

The skin between her legs.

Hips.

It kept travelling everywhere, as though he was confused about where to actually settle on. And every second was more than torture for Della.

The most prominent noise she could hear right now was the one of her pounding, restless heart that was scared to death.

Fear was now like a shooting vine in her veins, twisting and turning, turning her blood into ice till every part of her body and senses had been affected.

Till her heart wasn’t just beating too fast; it was now violently shaking, forcing other parts of her body to follow.

Up till now, it all didn’t feel like reality.

The pain.

The cold floor.

The chains.

Everything still felt somewhat like a dream that she was still trying to wake up from. Because no matter the pain that she had experienced, it’d never really felt this...cold.

The incident with Garett, compared to what was happening now, was like comparing a mosquito to an elephant.

Because Conan’s eyes were much worse.

They were stabbing. They were ruthless. They were destructive. They were merciless.

Della opened her mouth to scream, to cry, to do anything, but the gag was stopping her.

Malachi had shoved it so deep down her throat that it felt like it was going deeper with any attempted noise she tried to make. Words were now incoherent, sounding like she was screaming into a cloth that kept making her eyes water and her throat claw at itself, gouging deeper.

She strained her legs and arms against the chains, forcing them to bite down deeper.

There was no escape from this.

A strong heat fell across her body, with the smell of smoke, and she could now feel the breath of the stranger hovering right over her skin.

Her neck.

Her muscles locked together, and another scream formed that never made it out.

Lips pressed against her skin, and fingers followed everywhere those lips touched. They were so invasive, and every part of her that was touched roared with embarrassment and shame.

By now, the piercing gazes had intensified. Everyone’s attention was on what was happening to the helpless slave tied to the dias, her body being served to one out of a hundred.

"No...," She tried again when the finger started to creep down her neck, but then again, no one could hear her.

No one...cared.

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