The Last Pack

23. BETTER HIS SLAVE THAN HIS WIFE

Fidella was called for the day after her heat had finished, by Dominus Heaton. Unlike the other times she had been ordered to see him, today she was brought to a room with a stone desk and towers of scrolls against the walls. These details were on the periphery of her focus as she looked in horror at the two men before her. Master Heaton and slaver Leighton. Despite her best attempts, she was struggling to hide her fear as her hands shook. If she was to be taken by Leighton she would never see Conri again, and this thought made her want to vomit her fear all over the pretty mosaic floor.

Attempting to appear as submissive as possible, Fidella began kowtowing before her Dominus.

“You have caused me bother these past three days, slave girl,” Master Heaton sneered, as Leighton smirked.

“Apologies Dominus,” Fidella capitulated in utter terror, because for the first time ever she had something that could be taken.

“Remove your clothing,” demanded Master Heaton. “I need to see if your illness has left any scarring. If it has, you will leave with slaver Leighton!”

Fidella allowed her scanty skirt to pool at her feet, and pulled at the tie holding the material around her bosom until that too dropped on the floor. She was made to drop her hands by her sides as she attempted to retain her modesty, then, as ordered, she turned on the spot, while the two men leered at her. Her humiliation was interrupted by the arrival of the Domina.

Mistress Heaton hardly noticed the insignificant slave girl that stood naked in the middle of the tablinum, as she dashed towards her husband. She was wearing an elegant stola in a soft green colour. The cape covered her shoulders in contrast to the slit in the skirt that exposed her leg from foot to high thigh, a well-executed balance between decorum and risqué fashion, it was the nicest outfit Fidella had ever seen her in.

“My darling, what do you think of the dress?” She beamed.

“Did you design it, dear?” He asked.

“I did,” She affirmed, smiling.

“It makes you seem a little plump,” he appraised.

His wife’s smile collapsed and she wrapped the edges of her cape around the front of her body as if it would protect her from her husband’s critical judgement. Fidella for once was glad she had to look at the floor in their presence, as she had never felt so uncomfortable to witness such a degrading situation, even though she was the one kneeling naked in front of the people she hated most in the world. The discomfort only intensified when Ewan walked into the room, completely unaware that he was about to see his Luna naked, and the Domina holding her cape around her like she had nothing underneath. Bowing to the Dominus, he approached his desk, and stood to the side slightly in front of Leighton, trying to obscure the slaver’s view of Fidella.

“What do you think, Leighton?” The master continued to embarrass his wife.

“Possibly the material could be of higher quality, since it is to be suitable for such a well-respected house,” Leighton commented, and Fidella was impressed by the diplomacy of his answer for such a brutish man.

“We are all friends here, slaver Leighton, please call me Magnus and my wife Antonia, when we are alone,” Magnus insisted, before returning his attention to his wife.

“Dearest, don’t get upset, we know design is not your forte, it is silly to be sad about it. It is a stola only fit for slaves. In fact, that gives me an idea. Go and get changed quickly and bring this back,” he instructed.

After fifteen minutes of kneeling before her Dominus, the slaver and her Beta naked, Fidella was struggling to swallow the lump in her throat. She had been too shocked and scared at the beginning to shed tears, worried that she would be taken away and never see Conri again. Now it was clear she would be staying because there were no marks on her skin, she found herself struggling not to cry from relief and the embarrassment of having to submit to their lascivious stares. Isla was pouring support into her, bolstering her strength.

“At least we don’t have to see his dinky d**k again,” Isla joked, and the tight painful ball in her throat eased a little.

“Don’t let them see that you are upset, Luna, you are an Alpha Wolf! We are in our natural state when we are unclothed, and you are dressed with dignity and strength, something they will always be lacking in,” Ewan mind linked her with these supporting words, even though she could feel his rage.

Fidella thought of the words that Titan had told her ‘Act broken, but never be broken.” She continued to say this in her mind like a mantra to get her through the next few minutes. She was the Luna, and she would not be defeated by this man’s ideas of degradation. She was far more powerful than that. She was unclothed, but clad in armour of power that he wouldn’t see until the day of her freedom, when it would be too late for him.

The men had been talking about figures and slaves since the Domina had left them. Ewan would occasionally chip in with comments on the training and the gladiators that should be watched from other houses during the games. Fidella was aware that Ewan kept positioning himself to block Leighton’s line of sight and she was thankful for that. Mistress Antonia crept back inside the room wearing her typical clothes that weren’t nearly as nice as the dress that was hung over her arm. Magnus lifted the stola from Antonia and dropped it at Fidella’s feet.

“Put it on!” He commanded her. Unable to refuse, Fidella lifted the dress, tying it to her body, pleased to finally be covered, but sad to be involved in the game that was making the Domina so furlong.

“See my dear, look how incredible the slave girl looks in it, so much better than you looked. The design was only fit for slaves, not fine ladies of fine houses. At least now it won’t go to waste,” Magnus explained, and his wife gave a little smile and a nod, but glared at Fidella as if she were to blame. Turning his attention back to Fidella, he plastered a look of distain on his face.

“You are the residue of my commerce, like an orange when all the profitable juice has been squeezed out, and all that is left is the pulp and skin. You will find your place in the remaining mush that befouls my hand. If you ever cause problems for me in the future, I will dispose of you like I would the remnants of rotten fruit. Now leave!” Master Heaton ordered.

Collecting her items from the floor, she bowed and made her way out of the office, followed by Ewan.

“From now on, I’m telling the whole pack that when speaking about the Heatons they should only call them Magnus and Antonia or the fuckers, mainly because Titan already calls them that. We need to break down the power they have in our minds. They are humans, not Gods,” he said to her, trembling in anger.

“At least we can take comfort in one thing: it’s better to be his slave than his wife,” Fidella observed. She felt sympathy for Antonia for the first time ever. Ewan nodded in agreement. “Why do you think he gave me the dress?” She asked. Ewan shrugged in response, not wanting to worry her.

After leaving Fidella in her cell, he went to find Conri, who was sparring with Titan again. He opened his mind-link and conveyed what had happened in the office to his Alpha. Conri roared in a fury so powerful that the columns of the balcony quivered.

“Why did he give Fidella the dress?” Conri asked the same question his mate had, and this time he would share his thoughts.

“He is attracted to Fidella, but hates that he is drawn to a slave. He gave her the dress that was suitable for the highest women in his society, so that when he sees her in it he can pretend she is a lady and not a wolf. He has given it to her as a costume for his own fantasy,” Ewan revealed.

Conri, in response, closed the mind link and Ewan watched as his Alpha punched the wall with such force a vertical crack ran from top to bottom and the impact caused a shattered pot effect to expand across it.

“I promise that when the time is right his fantasies and his realities will smash before his very eyes,” Conri raged through the mind-link that he had sent to the entire pack, including Fidella. She had run outside when she had felt his anger. Using the shadows of the doorway, he took her in his arms and breathed in her scent, the only calm to his animalistic aggression.