Property Of The Alpha Queen

Property Of The Alpha Queen

ABEL'S POV

Guards appear at the door of my cell earlier than expected. Sir Bowman is behind them, smiling like a ray of sunshine.

I had hoped that the wounds on my back would have time to heal before the crown's heir executes me. I am guessing that Prince Elon is the new emperor, because anyone else would not be seeking to kill me so soon.

The heavy door clicks open and Sir Bowman and his men step inside.

"It is my delight to inform you that you are about to go away for good, slave. We are about to rid this place of your stench," Sir Bowman mocks, halting several steps away.

"I suggest we get someone to clean him up first. Any royal would be sickened by his horrible smell," one of the guards says.

"We don't have time for that. Just give him a shirt to hide the wounds. That will be enough," Sir Bowman states.

I sigh in relief as my back would hurt terribly if it were scrubbed in the name of getting me clean for an undeserved execution. I still cannot believe that killing me is one of the gifts that my father has granted the new emperor. It is his best prove of affection to his favourite son.

One of the guards rushes off then returns with an old shirt. He tosses it on the floor beside me and waits for me to put it on.

I take my time to reach out for the shirt and find the holes for the neck and hands. Why be in a hurry when they are going to cut off my head in front of a massive crowd of Royals?

"Wear it fast! Keeping great royals waiting will earn you unbearable punishment," Sir Bowman warns.

I slip on the shirt as another round of torture is the last thing I want before my death.

The other slaves stare silently from their cells as the guards drag me away. They cannot risk uttering a word as the guards are always happy to punish the slightest show of boldness.

Just like every other slave of this palace I haven't eaten in two days. My body feels so weak that I am struggling to keep up with the guards' pace despite the fact that they are supporting half of my weight.

They drag me down the staircase, then through the wide corridor with lush carpet that leads to the slave trading chamber.

The double doors opens to reveal a spacious and luxurious room with cozy furniture meant for the esteemed rich and powerful slave buyers.

The guards drag me inside, Sir Bowman walking in front of us.

A goddess sits on the big blue couch at the corner of the room, her regal posture and refined beauty making me forget my pain briefly.

She has a shimmering crown on top of her head which means she is a royal. Her cascading rocks of golden hair shimmer like a spun of silk in sunlight. Her luxurious velvet robes are adorned with beads of gold and a ton of other sparkling jewels.

The smell of her perfume is quite enchanting, nothing like the repulsive fragrances that my father's wives wear.

The guards force me to my knees on the lush carpet while Sir Bowman bows his head in front of the young woman in a show of respect.

"Your highness we would have loved to clean him up for you if you weren't in such a hurry to-"

"Is that the illegitimate Prince?" the lady cuts him short, her powerful but mesmerizing voice resonating with authority.

"Yes your highness. This is the bastard son of his majesty's banished wife," Sir Bowman affirms, stepping aside to give the lady an unobstructed view.

I lower my gaze to the floor as I am supposed to. It is an offense to look a werewolf royal in the eye as long you're not of the same status as them.

"I will personally inform the king that the Princess of Silvermere bought the slave as a gift for her father," I hear Sir Bowman say and my heart throbs harder in my chest because of shock.

I am being sold to Princess Rowena?! The soon to be alpha queen of Northern Empire?

She is as breathtakingly beautiful as the stories say. But why is she buying me when I am supposed to be getting executed?

The princess rises from the couch and gracefully strides towards me. My heart pounds harder with every step she takes. I can only watch her feet move since my head is bowed. Yet I am able to find her walk enchanting.

She halts right in front of me and her alluring scents fill my nostrils. Two of her long fingers touch my chin and tilt my head upwards, forcing me to stare up at her face.

She is even more bewitching up close, but her fierce gaze sends a shiver down my spine as she appears to be peering directly into the depths of my soul.

"It's cute for a Queen's bastard son," she remarks before letting go of my chin and turning away.

I thought she was kind, like the stories say, but she just refered to me at an "it", just like all arrogant Royals do. Guess none is truly different.

"Has the slave eaten?" she asks and Sir Bowman appears troubled.

"We fed them two days ago as there has been more significant matters that needed our attention, your highness," he answers in a rueful voice.

"I am not paying so much gold for a weak wrench that may die on the way," the princess states. "At least give him water to drink."

"Yes your highness," Sir Bowman agrees before motioning at one of his men to get the water.

The guard rushes off, then returns few minutes later with a glass of water. I cannot hold the glass with the restraints still binding my wrists. But the guard places the tip of the glass against my lips and my only struggle remains taking as much as he is pouring.

None of them has ever had to directly feed a slave before and the guard makes his annoyance vivid by pouring the water into my mouth with unreasonable impatience.

He steps back after pouring the last drop of water. My thirst is gone, but my hunger remains. It won't be killing me now though.

The Princess nods to one of her two male servants who hands Sir Bowman the p*****t in a white bag.

"Thank you, your highness," the cruel man says delightfully bowing his head again. "This is now yours," he holds out a key for the princess to take. "It's for the chains around the his neck. It is also the prove that you're his new master," he explains and she takes the key.

"Inform his majesty King Roderick that I was greatly appreciative of this special trade," she says.

"I can assure you that he will be much more delighted, princess," Sir Bowman responds.

She nods and motions at her servants to take me. The guards pull me back up as the servants move forward and takes hold of my arms.

Doors open and they drag me out of the slave castle, the Princess following behind. Several curious stares turn towards us as the servants of my new master pull me towards the imperial carriage a few metres away. The young chaperone and the stately escort appears ready to leave.

The servants halt after we get close to the carriage, waiting for their mistress's orders.

The princess takes hold of the chain around my neck before climbing into the opulent white carriage adorned with gold. I am forced to use my little energy to follow before getting dragged by the neck.

She takes a seat on the comfy seat and I kneel down on the floor next to her as a human slave is supposed to do in front of a royal werewolf.

"Sit," she orders and I allow myself to sit on the same spot. I must admit she is kinder than any other Royal I have met so far.

The chaperone steers away the carriage and I feel relieved that I will be spending more days as a slave instead of in an unmarked grave.