Page 12 of A Mysterious Slave for the Lycan Prince

“Ludovica,” I finally say, remembering what happened earlier. “When I was fetching Ryllis, we were caught coming down from the third floor by Lord Arman.”

She raises her brow in question. “And he let you go?”

“Not only that. He also told me to tell anyone who asks for her that he’s demanded Ryllis’ services exclusively for himself… to cover for her.” I look at her nervously. “Do you think he’s up to no good?”

“I don’t know,” she muses, and looks over at the supplies I brought into the room. “What do your instincts tell you?”

“Sereia sent me his way, actually,” I admit. She and Ryllis are the only ones who know I’m still connected to my wolf.

She nods thoughtfully. “You were just a baby when Arman and his sister Leila arrived here. They were only children themselves when they were washed ashore after their ship had wrecked. They were found wandering around and were brought back to the alpha. Normally, being orphaned pups would have meant being enslaved like us, but it was clear to see that they were both of alpha blood. Leila was incredibly beautiful. I don’t think I’d ever seen a child as beautiful as her before. The alpha immediately took a liking to both of them, so his beta took them in.”

“I know all that,” I say. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“It’s in their eyes,” she says, still lost in her thoughts. “There’s a look of disgust in Arman’s eyes whenever he looks at his fellow warriors. And Leila always keeps everyone at arm’s length. They stick together and never talk to anyone.”

“Do you mean to say they think this fucking pack is as shit as we do?” I ask bluntly.

She smacks my leg softly. “We’ve talked about all your cursing, haven’t we?” she admonishes. I grin cheekily, watching as she pinches her nose to alleviate some tension. “I think he and Leila are stuck here like us and are hanging on until they find a way out,” she replies. “So, in a way, they are like us. Well, not exactly the same, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I say dryly. “At least they live in luxury.”

“Leila is a very beautiful woman, though,” Ludovica says. “I wonder how she ensures the sleazy warriors don’t touch her.”

“Her brother probably scared them all off,” I say. “And she is the oracle, after all.” Ever since her gift surfaced, everyone has been treating her like she’s an actual princess or priestess. It’s the main reason the pack started to address her and Arman so formally. From what I’ve heard, she receives visions.

“She sometimes gives me food,” Ludovica admits. “Stuff I then hand to you guys. You know the extra potatoes I had last week? She gave them to me.”

My eyes widen. “You never said anything!”

“Because news like that travels fast,” Ludovica says. “I’m telling you because I trust you, but you can’t tell anyone else. She’s probably endangering her life too.”

That’s interesting. It’s nice to know that at least a few other people aren’t happy with what’s going on here, and Leila and Arman are powerful and important people in this pack. Although, I don’t doubt the alpha would get rid of them if he knew what they were doing. But sometimes, it just takes a single spark of hope to start a fire.

When I get up to leave, Amaryllis grabs my hand. “Stay with me?” she begs.

I look at Ludovica and she nods. “Stay an hour, Freya. We can cover for you that long.”

I crawl into the bed next to Amaryllis and pull her close. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will protect you, little sister,” I whisper into her hair. The medicine and the warm blanket work miracles, and soon I feel her drifting off to sleep. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I plant a soft kiss on her forehead and tuck her into the blanket before sneaking out of the room.

I’m working one of Ryllis’ shifts now. She is supposed to be on kitchen duty. It’s a job I actually enjoy doing as it means working together with other slaves and Ludovica, of course, since she’s in charge of the kitchen. Unless a ranked pack member comes in to harass one of us, it’s the best job. I quietly sneak upstairs and into the huge kitchen. Ludovica sees me entering and gestures toward a bowl of vegetables. I smile at her before throwing myself into my work as if I’d been here for the entire shift.

I’m so relieved every time I see Ludovica and every time she comes to our aid. She’s a lot older than the rest of us, which is remarkable considering how we are all forced to live. Slaves and omegas here don’t get particularly old. While Os—as we call them—do have a few more rights than slaves, they are still quite low in the food chain. They are not called for sexual services usually, and they live in a shabby building next to the pack house, but that’s the only difference—everything else we share. We aren’t even considered real pack members.

It’s a mixture of the freezing weather, the constant snow here, the lack of proper food and nutrition, and the abuse that sends us under the earth sooner than the wolves of better rank. Also, we aren’t allowed to have any mates or reproduce. They might use some slaves here as sex toys, but everyone is on birth control. The alpha doesn’t want any weak blood in his pack babies.

Wolves normally don’t mind the cold. We have thick skin and high body heat, but we don’t receive enough food. Our wolves and bodies are weakened due to the wolfsbane the alpha forces us to take once a month. It’s a pity, though, because this place would be beautiful otherwise, despite the cold weather. Blood Snow Pack lies amidst two mountains, protected from both sides and opening towards a huge forest, a stunning ice desert and the rough sea. On sunny days, the snow would sparkle like out of a winter fairy tale.

The place is fine.

It’s the fellow wolves who make this place hell.

“So,” Emmanuel says as he finishes peeling a potato. “All the warriors were busy training today. Who else thinks we’ll be left with only three steamed carrots between us?”

We all giggle.

“And maybe half a potato,” Gina adds.

“Oh Goddess, don’t go overboard.” Emmanuel gasps. “I need to watch my weight.”

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