Chapter 4 Alpha

Valerie

I had never known why Mrs. Johnson would be there in my nightmare. We lost her contact since the war began and when my parents were looking for a shelter, they tried best to reconnect her. But we never succeeded.

The summer we spent at Mrs. Johnson’s holiday house near a seashore was the best one I’d ever had. My parents went there for doing some research related to their work and they brought me with them. I was lucky. Because they considered that I was too young to be left behind at grandparent’s house like Mathilda.

We indulged ourselves in sun’s nourishment and strolled leisurely along the beach while mom and dad were off-work. Mrs. Johnson showed great hospitality to our visit. She volunteered to help look after me while mom and dad were busy with their works. She brought me to a small amusement park in vicinity and we had a lot of fun there.

Mrs. Johnson was a widow. Her husband died many years ago and left her with no kid. So she loved me and always treated me with excellent patience as if I was her own child. But she seemed rather desolated. During our stay, the only person who had visited her beside us was a little boy.

The boy was Mrs. Johnson’s cousin, who had a gloomy face and behaved like an adult. He would never look straight into my eyes but I often found he studied me secretly with a thoughtful look. He only stayed for three days before leaving. At his departure, he came to me and asked if I was a human.

I nodded in confusion. But he didn’t explain for his intention, just said “cool” before exiting the front door. Though I couldn’t recall his face, I was pretty sure that he’s the prototype of that boy in my nightmares.

Another thing which was peculiar about Mrs. Johnson was that she never mentioned her family or brought up her husband’s death. I knew that werewolves were social and they lived in packs. So it’s rather abnormal that Mrs. Johnson seemed to isolate herself deliberately. I once asked mom the reason of Mr. Johnson’s demise and her solitary life. And she said it wasn’t something kids should ask.

But I was curious.

When we were out alone, I asked Mrs. Johnson about her family. I remembered that she talked briefly about it. Unfortunately, as the merry-go-around appeared in our vision, I forgot what she talked because my focus was quickly distracted.

The only thing I could memorize now was she said about “Alpha”. She told me that she was from an Alpha family where everyone was cold-hearted and power-hungry. She didn’t like them at all.

So I was stunned when the servant called the master “Alpha”. My only knowledge about Alphas was the impression Mrs. Johnson gave me.

They were ruthless.

I followed the master out of car before he ordered me to do so. When the servant saw me, he looked astonished. He licked his bottom lip in nervousness and hesitation, as if he wanted to say something inappropriate.

“You can keep the word.” The master glanced at his face before striding past him.

As we walked into the castle, more servants were standing in lines on both side.

“Welcome, Alpha.”

They bowed their head deeply and said in unison when we passed. Most of them looked the same age as me, back hunched with bones pricking up profoundly under thin cloth because of malnutrition.

The staircase which separated into two directions in midway were placed at the end of this hall, leading to both side on second floor. Its white marble surface glinted under the light of chandelier hanging on high vault.

A man appeared there.

He had a middle-length hair colored in deep brown and his figure was just as tall and built-up as the master’s. He leant against the railing casually as he said in with an amused tone, “you brought a woman?”

I didn’t even see his motion before he appeared right in front of me within a second and held my waist to stop me from falling onto floor out of shock.

“A human?” he sniffed before putting on a playful smile, “and a virgin.”

I blushed at his straightforwardness.

And before I was able to say something, the master grabbed my wrist tightly and pulled me towards to him.

I bumped into his chest.

Being afraid that he might be annoyed by my clumsy movement, I stumbled forward trying to stay in distance. But his arm wrapped me up firmly, leaving me with no escapes.

At such closeness, I could even smell the perfume on his collar and sense the heat of his body. My breasts were pressed against him.

My heart started racing.

“She’s too fragile, Xavier.” The man said.

“It’s not your business.” The master’s reply was cold.

“Alright then.” The man replied with a cavalier attitude.

I heard the sound of steps trailed away before the master relieved the strength. When we finally parted, I lowered my head, not daring look at him.

I continued to follow him upstairs until we stopped in front of a wooden door. He rotated the knob and walked inside, while I was hesitating at the entrance.

“Come in.” He commanded.

I had known this would finally happen since he took me away, but I had to admit that I was deluded by some unrealistic hopes for his good manner. I expected him to be different with those creatures obsessed with sexual fulfilments.

That seemed to be a big misunderstanding.

I had never prepared to be a sex slave. We had been told that after we were bought by customers, we would either working as labor force or sex toys. Most woman slaves had a preference for the later while I didn’t.

Sex should be something you did out of love instead of fear. They laughed at my stupidity because my argument was meaningless.

We had no options.

I took a deep breath before stepping inside the room. It was as large as the room I got myself prepared before the auction, except this one got a king-size bed in the centre. The master was sitting on edge of that soft mattress as I walked in.

“Take off.” He ordered.

I was still wearing the suit he gave me on the ride and I buttoned it up before getting out the car. Now, I just needed to reverse the whole process and be naked again.

But my finger trembled so uncontrollably when I touched the button that I had to slow down to keep my emotions amenable.

I complied with his order in such a clumsiness that he finally lose the patience. So when I was about to handle the last one, he grabbed my wrists and tore the string.

I heard a clear sound as the button hit the floor.

He stood up to touch my body.

I closed eyes, trying to hold back the tears while I felt his cold fingers danced on my skin, caressing my neck before trailing down to the belly.

Then he rested his palm on my lower belly.

He didn’t move further.

I was surprised. Opening my eyes, I saw he squatted down, studying the red mark there with a serious face. The posture was embarrassing.

He brushed the mark softly then gazed up into my eyes.

“Where did you get this from?” He asked.