She knew he didn't finish and she wondered why. The man hated her; he had no remorse for her. So why didn't he keep plundering her body until he gained his satisfaction? She didn't know the answer to that, and it was the least of her problems. Alone, she started sobbing aloud. For the first time since her kingdom was ambushed, her father killed, and she was taken into slavery, she felt pain. Real, raw pain.
Heart-wrenching sobs wretched her throat. She had always dreamed of flowers. Her husband making love to her under the moonlight. Her, losing her virginity to him while he loved her body so tenderly.
This was nowhere near what she imagined. Reality hurt like a knife to the heart. Father, why did you have to do this to me?
She didn't know which pain was greater: the one coming from her body or the one from her heart. The one from her body was physical. What he did to her hurt. But the one to her heart hurt too, because she knew that this was her life now.
Seraphine got off the bed, glad that he was not around. She didn't know what she'd do if he had to watch her trying to stagger her way out while crying openly.
Blood smeared her thighs, still dripping out from her womanhood. She made it to her cold cell, and the guard opened it. Seraphine entered the empty confinement, walked towards the old bunk without a mattress, and huddled on it.
She repeatedly sniffled, trying to control her tears. She didn't want to cry anymore. She didn't want to look broken… because she wasn't.
Survival. She will survive this place.
She might be his slave on the outside, but inside she was still Princess Seraphine. He would not break her! She wouldn't allow it. She was the only thing she had.
Just then, the cell opened and Maela entered. The older woman gave Her a polite smile. "Maela said the king wants to see you."
What? Again? "W-what?"
"He said to get you out of here and—"
She lost it. "What does he want with me again!?" Seraphine raged, shooting up from the bed.
"He wants—" Maela started.
"He can go to hell for all I care! Stay away from me! Go!" the princess screamed beyond reasoning.
Maela pursed her lips in displeasure but didn't go anywhere. In her eyes, pity flashed. "You really must let go of that attitude if you ever wish to survive as a slave. That was what we all did when we were trying to survive your father. That was how we survived."
"Your king is a monster!" Seraphine cried.
Maela shook her head adamantly. "King Draven is nowhere near what you think. You have no idea what he's been through. You have no idea!" Her eyes found hers. "He's actually holding back with you."
Seraphine scoffed. "How can you say that? You have no idea what the monster did to—"
"He's holding back because if he truly wanted to give you back all your father did to him, he'd start by roasting your feminine…" she stated curtly.
"W-what?" Seraphine wasn't sure she heard the woman well.
"Never mind." Maela turned away. "If you're done raging, you hear me out. The king said to escort you to your quarters."
Seraphine blinked twice, wondering what was wrong with her ears. "What?"
"Follow me." Maela began walking away.
What's going on?
Seraphine got up with a wince and followed the woman out. The older woman escorted her to another side of the big palace and into a room that was small but nice-looking and tidy.
"What am I doing here?" she asked the older woman.
"It's your new room."
"M-mine?" Seraphine stared around, wondering what those people were up to.
"Clean up and go to bed. The king will request you on the morrow." Then Maela turned and walked away.
Seraphine, too tired and emotionally stressed to start thinking about everything, just laid down on the bed and allowed herself to pass out. Escaping reality was always a good choice.
But what did she mean by he was holding back? And whatever the hell did she mean by him roasting out her feminine parts?
A knock came to the door, and King Draven gave approval for entry. Maela entered. "I have gotten her to her room, and I have also—"
"I don't need the details, Maela. I don't care," he stated curtly, scribbling on the scroll.
"Yes, Your Highness," Maela said immediately.
"How's Renya?"
Maela's eyes softened at the mention of her daughter. "She's doing fine, Your Majesty. Her ears still aren't doing well, but she's better."
He raised his head. "How old is she now?"
"Fifteen, Your Highness."
King Draven lowered his head.
Tears burned the back of Maela's eyes. She knew what the king was thinking because that was her thought every day. Her daughter, Renya, was too young to go through what she went through in the hands of the Averon kingdom. Renya would never recover from that experience at all…
"I'm glad. Send me Lysera," he stated curtly.
Maela stiffened at the mention of her name. "Should I tell her to come prepared?"
"Yes."
"Alright, Your Majesty." She turned and left.
Draven paused his writing and stared down at his very erect cock. He hadn't been able to come with Seraphine, and he wasn't surprised. It wasn't because he didn't want to, but because only Lysera could make him come.
Lysera was also a slave before—she and almost all the women in his kingdom. His relationship with Lysera started right there from hell.
Seraphine had Draven wired, and he needed the relief that came from sex. He was no longer a normal man. Zorvath had made sure of that. Draven could no longer achieve satisfaction like a normal man. He stared down at his scarred, painful erection. Long scars outlined it, wounds from long ago that fried veins of his phallus.
His manhood was fried to the extent that most of the veins and nerves there were no longer working right.
Draven had to put a lot more effort into achieving satisfaction during sex, and he must achieve that satisfaction once he was erect because the more he swelled, the more his scars stretched, the more his scars stretched to painful degrees. He had to work for it before he could feel pleasure while coupling… had to be extra rough and do other things…
Only Lysera could take him while he was this way.
While he hated Seraphine with every bone in his body, he wasn't ready to unleash himself on her yet, not on her first night here, because he'd damage her beyond repair, even if he was really tempted to do that.
No, he didn't want to kill her. Death had no part in the plans he had for her… at least not yet.
He closed his eyes. That was the most painful he had ever endured at the hands of Zorvath. The one he could never forget.
He growled in rage. How could he even forget when he bore the scars?
Seraphine. More hatred washed over him just at the very thought of her.
Her blonde hair that used to be so dirty was now clean, long, and shiny—not to mention wavy. A face that used to be dirty was pedicured, and she wore very light makeup.
Instead of a slave cloth, Lysera wore a red, very beautiful ball gown as she marched in.
Draven had heard from other women that Lysera could be a first-class bitch, and she even behaved like a queen, like she owned him. All the rumors were unfounded, however, because Lysera had never behaved out of sorts with him. She only oversaw his pleasure. His dark needs.
"Not the bed," Draven commanded as she started walking towards it.
Lysera stared at the unsmiling, huge man with a mean scar running across his face. She smiled. "Yes, my king." She walked towards the table and leaned against it, waiting for him.
He got up and walked towards her in silence. Lysera smiled to herself when she saw his erect organ. She'd heard of the new slave, the former Princess Seraphine. Apparently, even the new slave couldn't give Draven what he needed. Lysera smiled to herself; she'd been worried for nothing. She alone owned Draven. It was a heady feeling, owning a powerful man like him.
He reached close and pulled her around to face the table and give him Her back. He's always been a "no preamble" person, and that was why he'd always sent for her to come prepared. He raised her gown high above her waist, exposing her naked flesh. He bunched the gown on her waist and shoved two fingers into her.
She was wet and slick. He grunted his approval. In one swift movement, he shoved into her from behind forcefully, grunting inaudibly.
Lysera bit her lips and winced as he plummeted into her body. He grabbed her hair and yanked on it as he began thrusting his big dick into her. She moaned; pleasure and pain mixed together and became one. The table rattled with the force of his animalistic thrusts. He unleashed himself on her, taking her in powerful, rough thrusts that both hurt and gave great pleasure.
He snaked his hands forward and grabbed her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. He drew on them with the force of his thrusts. Her moans filled the air. He slapped the beast hard.
"Yes, yes!" she cried out.
Her moans, his grunts, the slap of skin hitting skin, and the fierce rattle of the table were the only sounds heard in the room.
Then he pulled out of her, spread her ass cheeks, and worked himself deep inside her with a groan. Lysera erupted with a scream as he pounded her ass, clawing on the table while her body moved rhythmically, her hair falling all over the place.
She felt his weight on her from behind as he leaned closer, changed the angle of his thrusts, and then started a short, hard, fast plunge. He went on and on. Lysera relaxed against him, taking it all—the pleasure and the pain. When he snaked his hand in front of her and slapped her clit, she gave a long moan, dangerously close to another orgasm.
He yanked on her hair so hard he rippled a few strands off, gripping it in his fierce hold as he plummeted in and out of her ass. The action pushed her over the edge, the pain something her body always craved after being all her body knew for years and years. As she jerked beneath him, he finally followed with a hoarse groan as he came.
A full minute later, he tugged himself back into his pants and faced the bathroom.
"Get out."
"B‑but, my king…"
Her hoarse voice stopped him. Lysera always knew how to play her card, especially after wild couplings.
"What is it?" he asked coldly.
She arranged her clothes, mentally preparing the request.
"The new slave…"
His eyes darkened instantly.
"What about her?"
She couldn't wait to get a session with the daughter of Prince Cone. After being a slave for three years before their escape, Lysera craved revenge too. The craving alone was enough to make her body tense with anticipation.
"Can I get a session with her?" she asked demurely.
"Why do you want to?" He arched a brow.
"Well, she's your new slave, and I'm your mistress. I want to get acquainted with her. No heavy stuff," she lied smoothly.
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded curtly.
"Get out of my room."
Lysera watched him disappear into the bathroom.
I've never spent a night in this room in all five years of being his mistress, she thought bitterly.
One step at a time. All in due time.
She adjusted her clothes and left.
The next morning, Danika was given her slave uniform.
A short gown that stopped just below her knees.She put it on and made her hair. She was taken away early to the slave mines. The mines are mostly where slaves work day and night, helping to extract valuable minerals from the ground.
Seraphine saw none of her people as she walked, only the low-borns of Salern. What did Draven do with the people of Mombana? She asked herself again.
When she started down the route to the mines, all eyes were on her. Even in a slave uniform, she looked royalty.
That regalia and pride surrounded her. She walked like a lady she was trained to be, her stance screaming royalty.
She didn't do this intentionally at all. Royalty is her blood… just like Draven's even when he was still a slave.
If not for the slave uniform, slaves would have bowed to her as she passed, mistaking her for a lady from a privileged family. But once they saw the slave uniform, they hated her because they felt intimidated.
They hated her even without knowing that she was once Princess Seraphine.
But as she got to the mines, the slaves knew who she was and they treated her very badly… especially the slave trainer called Karandy.
"Let her dig the new tunnel alone!" Karandy addressed the slaves. He gave her a smirk filled with loathing, "Surely, you can clear a new tunnel for mining, can't you priiliincess!?"
Everyone laughed at her. Some of the men called her a whore.
She fisted her hands and reminded herself that she had to survive this place. She had to survive.
"Yes. I can." She had escaped her bedroom a time or two to watch slaves work.
Her father had also forced her to witness torture sessions before because it was his way of making her strong enough to be able to rule on day . She has seen a lot of torture sessions, including....
She closed her eyes to banish the memory. Suddenly, a hot slap landed on her cheek, snapping her eyes open.
Her cheeks cracked and pain spread through her body as Tavren stood in front of her, he yanked her hair so much, she cried out.
"You answer me properly next time or you'll not like the consequences. Am I making myself clear!?" He barked, his grip on her hair strong.
"Yes sir." Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back. No way was she giving them the satisfaction of watching her crumble.
His eyes were at the rise and fall of her breasts. He stared hungrily, and his gaze made her skin crawl.
"Good..." He forced himself to stare at her face, "Now, get on to work, you whore!"
Two hours later, her arm was hurting badly from digging the ground alone. Tavren instructed others not to help her.
They should work on all the old mines and leave her to the new one alone. A work of twenty slaves, she was doing it alone, it was too much for her.
As she hit the hammer on the rock-hard ground, tears were fast building in her eyes again. She missed her personal maid, Briella.
Her Briella. The slave girl that's been her maid since she was a child. She'd come upon her torture session when Briella was just ten years old, and she, Seraphine, was twelve.
Seraphine had pleaded with her father that she wanted Briella as her personal maid, but her father refused. Her father never listened to her. Ever. And he never listened to her mother when she was alive.It took months before her father finally granted her request when he saw that she truly needed a personal maid. Briella was the only person so close to her. As close as a maid could be with a princess.
"How is it going in here?" Tavren entered again into the tunnel, groaning behind her.
"I'm working, sir," she replied hoarsely.
"Two hours, and you've only done this!" he barked, staring around. "You incompetent fool."
He stared at all her hard work and insulted her? Seraphine said nothing like an obedient slave and continued digging even as her muscles protested the movements.
She felt heat behind her back before Tavren's body pressed against hers from behind. His breath fanned her ear as he raised his hand to push all her hair to the other side of her shoulder, leaving that side of her neck bare.
"Are you tired of working, slave, princess?" he groaned lustfully, caressing her collar.
Seraphine's body stiffened. "Leave me alone, please."
His hands went to her breasts and he squeezed them through her flimsy clothing. "You don't tell me what to do, Princess."
She couldn't scream or react wrong because she'd only make herself suffer more. He held her nipples and pinched them so hard her body jerked.
He chuckled as she whimpered, her nipples hurting badly.
"I can make your time here in the mines much easier..." he rubbed his erection on her bottom. "All you have to do is give me your body whenever I want it."
"I am the King's slave. You and I both know I can only serve who the king wants and permits," she said, doing her best to hide her revulsion.He kept grinding against her, emitting guttural groans. "The king doesn't need to know."
His grip on her breasts became too painful to bear. Tears spilled from Seraphine's eyes as she bit her lip hard.
"Where is the King's slave!?" Maela's voice rang out from outside.
Relief flooded Seraphine as Tavren jerked away from her as though her skin burned him. He severed contact immediately.
"Think carefully about what I said, Princess. Your stay here won't be easy. I'll personally make sure of that. Besides, it's better you consent—because either way…" His lips curled. "I'll still be fvcking you."
He turned and walked out.
Seraphine wiped her tears. The monster wasn't giving her a choice, even as he pretended that he was.
"Where is the King's slave?" the woman's voice came again.
"You mean the former princess?" Tavren drawled.
"Yes."
Seraphine dropped the hammer, relief rushing through her—even if it was only for a moment.
"I'm here!" she called from inside the tunnel.
"The King awaits your presence in his chambers. Do NOT keep him waiting!" came the court order.
The relief vanished instantly. Was she leaving hot water only to fall into blazing oil?
Seraphine entered the chambers of King Draven and saw him fully prepared, clearly about to court.
"You called for me… master," she said softly.