C7 His Property

The shadow of his body blocked the sunlight from the high windows. I stared at the dark fabric of his jacket, my chest tightening with every shallow breath I pulled into my lungs….

The silence in the massive hall stretched tight. Hundreds of people stood completely still around us. I heard the scrape of a guard's boot against the stone floor. I heard the rush of blood in my own ears. Nothing else…

"Who are you?" he asked for the second time.

I felt his voice vibrate in my chest. The tone was familiar. I inhaled the air around him, and a sudden heat rushed through my stomach. Cigarettes and dark, heavy sweat…The exact scent filled my nose. I immediately remembered the dark woods, the rough bark of the tree against my spine, the large hands gripping my waist in the absolute dark.

My heart slammed against my ribs. My fingers twitched at my sides.

I stared at the gold buttons on his jacket. Why was this happening? Why did the King possess the exact scent of the stranger in the woods? It made no sense. I searched for an answer, but the panic made it hard to think…

I needed to speak. I needed to force the words past the dry lump in my throat. I opened my mouth, but the air just hissed over my teeth. My voice failed me.

He stepped one inch closer. The toes of his black boots almost touched my bare, bloody feet.

"I will not ask a third time." The warning vibrated straight through the floorboards. His patience was gone. I saw the thick muscles in his jaw tense as his eyes darkened.

I pushed the fear down into my stomach. I looked up past his broad shoulders, past his sharp jawline, directly into his eyes.

"Valerie."

The whisper barely left my lips.

The moment I spoke my name, the hall erupted in noise.

A sharp, cruel laugh echoed off the stone walls. I turned my head. A woman walked out from behind the line of guards. She had short black hair and brown eyes that scanned me from head to toe. She stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms over her chest, her lips pulled back in a nasty smile.

"Valerie?" Cassy repeated, her voice filled with absolute disgust. "Look at her. You call that a woman? She brings filth into the palace."

A tall guard next to her snorted loudly.

"Look at her bones. You can count her ribs through that torn fabric. She hasn't eaten a real meal in her entire life. She is nothing but skin and dirt."

"And the face," another woman chimed in from the back row. "Look at the left side of her face. That massive birthmark. She is cursed. Keep her away from us. She will

bring bad luck to the entire pack."

I instinctively lifted my hand to cover my cheek. The skin there burned under their stares. I shrank back, pulling my shoulders inward, wishing I could disappear into the floor….

The woman took another step forward. She pointed a finger directly at my thighs. "She is already bleeding on the King's floor. Look at the mess she is making. She carries a bastard child, and she is too weak to even hold it. That thing inside her won't survive the night anyway."

Laughter spread through the rows of women and guards. The sound hit me from every direction, loud and aggressive. I wrapped both of my arms around my swollen belly, pressing my hands flat against the bump. The baby shifted slightly under my palms. I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt a tight ache in my throat.

They saw exactly what my stepmother saw. Trash. A mistake. A diseased thing taking up space. My chest heaved. I focused on the feeling of my baby, the only thing I had left, while I listened to the cruel words.

"Stop."

The single word echoed across the room. The laughter stopped instantly. The woman dropped her hand to her side, the smile vanishing from her face. The guards stiffened, snapping their attention back to the man standing in front of me.

The king did not yell….He did not raise his voice. He simply spoke the word, and the entire hall obeyed without question. He turned his head slowly, looking at the woman, then at the guards. His face showed zero emotion. His dominance filled the space.

"She will be my personal maid," Brandon announced.

No one spoke after his announcement. I opened my eyes and stared at him. A personal maid? Me?

He turned to the two men who had carried me into the room. "Take her to the West Wing. Clean her. Have her ready in my quarters in one hour."

A collective gasp came from the staff.

The woman's mouth fell open in total shock. The young nurse from the medical room covered her mouth with both hands.

The West Wing. I heard the panicked murmurs spreading through the ranks of women. No one goes to the West Wing.

The guards hesitated for a fraction of a second, exchanging nervous glances, before rushing toward me.

They grabbed my arms and dragged me out of the hall. We moved through long, empty corridors. The temperature dropped the further we walked away from the main palace. The walls here held no portraits, no windows, just cold gray stone.

We reached a heavy wooden door, and they shoved me inside a washroom.

Two older maids waited with buckets of cold water and harsh soap. They stripped the torn gown from my body. I shivered violently in the damp air. They ignored my flinching as they scrubbed the dried blood from my legs and the dirt from my arms.

The coarse brushes scratched my skin red. My body jerked from the cold water, making my teeth chatter uncontrollably.

They did not speak a single word to me. They just washed me with hurried, panicked movements, their eyes constantly darting to the door.

When they finished, they threw a uniform onto the wooden bench. I pulled it on with shaking hands. A short, stiff pink dress.

The fabric scratched against my thighs. The hem sat completely above my knees, exposing my bare legs to the cold air. The bright pink color felt entirely wrong against the dreary, gray walls around me.

They marched me out of the washroom and down another dark hallway, finally pushing me into a large bedroom. The door clicked shut behind me. The lock turned with a heavy thud.

I stood in the center of the room. A massive bed sat against the far wall. A dark wooden desk rested near an unlit fireplace. I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my upper arms to generate heat. The pink dress offered no warmth. My wet hair dripped freezing water down my back. I stared at the closed door, waiting.

The door handle turned slowly.

I jumped backward, putting distance between myself and the entrance.

Then the king walked into the room and closed the door behind him. We were entirely alone. The heavy scent of his cigarettes filled the space between us immediately.

He walked toward me. His boots made no sound on the thick rug. He stopped right in front of me, invading my space. I tilted my head up to look at him. His eyes scanned my face, tracing the outline of my birthmark, dropping to the short pink dress, down to my bare legs, and back up to my eyes.

The intensity of his stare made my stomach clench tight. My skin prickled with heat despite the freezing room.

"Why did you leave?" he asked.

The question confused me. I frowned, shaking my head slightly. "Leave?"

"You heard me," he stepped closer. His broad chest almost brushed against me.

"Why did you run away?"

I tried to understand. Run away from where? The carriage? The medical room?

"I didn't run. The guards brought me here. I don't understand what you are talking about."

He stared at my mouth while I spoke. He leaned down, his face mere inches from mine. "You left without a word."

I stared back at him in total confusion. I searched his face for a clue, a hint of what he meant. He refused to explain himself. He just watched my chest rise and fall with my panicked breaths. He was a complete stranger to me, a cruel King who had just bought me, yet he spoke with absolute certainty.

"I don't know you," I whispered. My voice trembled.

His jaw tightened. The muscle in his cheek flexed. He straightened his posture, pulling away from me, looking down at me with cold, hard dominance.

"You are my property now. You belong to me. You are my personal maid, and you will do exactly what I tell you."

He turned around and walked to the door. He opened it, stepped out into the hallway, and shut it firmly behind him. The sound of his footsteps faded away. I stood alone in the middle of the mysterious West Wing, shivering in the stiff pink dress, completely trapped.