The Alpha's Third Mistress

Sheera's heart drummed in her chest as she stood beside the window, her eyes feeding on the crowd gathered just outside. It was as tho the entire pack members were present because the crowd was like none she'd ever seen.

The high position of her room gave her the advantage of a panoramic view of the unfolding scene. At that moment, she forgot all about her predicament and focused on the predicament of the one who had been found guilty.

Shortly, the Pack Keepers dragged the guilty young lady to the center of the gathering on the raised platform. She was roughly dropped on her knees, her hands bound behind her with Moly ropes.

Moly was their weakness. It was often used on her kind to weaken them.

The girl, barely more than a wisp of a thing, knelt on the raised platform, her crimson cloak a stark stain against the grey flagstones. Her unbound dark hair hung limp and tangled, framing tear-streaked cheeks. Shame and terror leeched from her hunched form, a stark contrast to the rigid keepers flanking her, their faces emotionless masks.

Sheera felt a tremor course through her. Fear, not for herself, but for the young woman who stood condemned in the heart of the frenzy.

A hush fell over the crowd as a cloaked figure emerged. Tall and imposing, his form was shrouded in a black robe that flowed behind him like a predator's cape. A black hood concealed his face, but the glint of a polished sword hilt protruding from its depths sent shivers down Sheera's spine. This, then, was Zandov, the executioner – a man whispered about in hushed tones.

Her gaze was riveted on him, her eyelids barely blinking.

The crowd gasped and murmured when he drew his two-edged sword from its sheath. He turned to the young lady who was whimpering on her knees, her head dipped.

"Today, we are about to witness the execution of an enemy!" Someone declared - someone Sheera couldn't see.

She figured he was standing on a part of the stage her eyes could not see. But in such cases, she heard the Alpha's Beta always did the talking.

"For centuries, we have guarded ourselves against the witches and will not fail now of all times. The North is no place for witches! It has no place for such foul magic. We do not care if you get rejected in every part of the earth. The North shall never be a place you call home!"

The crowd cheered in agreement.

"Nerfetiti, I shall give you one last chance to speak. Do you have any accomplices with you? Rest assured, they shall be sought after and executed just like you are about to."

The young lady didn't even lift her gaze.

A moment passed.

"Let the execution commence, then!" The Beta announced.

The crowd roared in approval.

The keepers went towards the lady and guided her head to the stake.

Zandov, his sword already in his hand, aimed it at her neck before lifting it high in the air. Sheera squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look any further. It'd haunt her if she did.

She knew the execution had taken place when a collective gasp, sharper and more final than the earlier one, washed over the crowd. Strength drained from her legs like water from a punctured bucket.

With shaky hands, Sheera slammed the window shut, the clatter barely registering over the roar of the wind and the chilling pronouncement that echoed in the room. She shut out the voice of the Beta, who had continued talking about the dangers of harboring a witch in the Pack.

She underwent a sudden wave of panic. She helped herself to the bed, sat with her hand on her chest, and took very deep breaths to calm herself.

It was her first time witnessing an execution. She'd never known a witch nor been in support of one, but somehow, she felt the world was a very cruel place for them. They were banished from almost every part of the earth, with execution being the penalty for anyone found. As a result, the witches were going into extinction.

Sheera felt terrible for them, although she couldn't exactly blame the wolves for making such decisions against them, considering the history they shared.

Fear danced a jig on Sheera's fingertips, leaving them weak and trembling. It wasn't until a while later, when she became calm that she realized she had her own problems. She'd almost forgotten the reason she was there - in the Pack Fortress. In that room.

She looked around, her panic taking a new turn.

She cast a frantic glance around the austere room, her earlier fear morphing into a new, prickling anxiety. She had only been brought in a while before the execution, and no one had come to see her yet. Someone like her was not supposed to set foot in the Pack Fortress. But it was different.

The sudden creak of the heavy oak door sent a jolt through her. A Keeper showed up first, his face a mask of stoicism. He stepped aside to reveal a figure who stole the breath from Sheera's lungs.

The Keeper stepped away for the Grand Luna, who walked further and stood in the doorway.

She had all the grace Sheera had heard about - eyes of fire, aura of fear. And above all, she looked as mean as they had said.

Unlike others, the grand Luna didn't need to fake 'kindness.' She was wicked at heart and carried it with pride.

She was heavily dressed and adorned with the best pieces of jewelry. She was almost like a wonder.

Sheera scrambled to her feet immediately, clasping her palms together.

As the grand Luna walked in, Sheera noticed two servants behind her, holding her dress from rolling on the floor. It was that long.

She lowered her head when the woman got close, looking so intimidating.

"Gr...Greetings, grand Luna." There was a tremor in her voice.

Luna Valkyrie gave a curt nod, her lips twisting in a sneer.

She circled Sheera like a predator inspecting its prey, her fiery gaze stripping away any semblance of composure. "Hm," she finally spoke, her voice a silken whip. "So, it is you."

Valkyrie stopped in front of Sheera, careful to maintain a distance. "You bear an uncanny resemblance to your traitorous father," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "If I had known, I would have brought you here as a servant rather than..." a flicker of disgust crossed her face, "...my son's plaything."

Valkyrie circled Sheera once more, the disdain in her eyes hardening into something akin to cruelty. "But this," she snapped, her voice dripping with condescension, "this should do. At least your body would never be respected by any man. You deserve it."

Sheera flinched the words, a fresh sting on top of the raw ache in her chest.

Relief washed over her in three seconds as Luna Valkyrie turned towards the door. But the Luna, as though sensing Sheera's fleeting hope, paused right in front of the door.

"Look at you," Valkyrie drawled, her voice laced with disgust. "All shaken up. You had best not be repulsive when my son, the Alpha, decides to do as he pleases with you."

She walked back to where Sheera was and yanked off the jewelry around her neck. Sheera gasped when this happened. No! That had been given to her by her mother, and she had gotten it with all the money she had because she wanted her to look good on her first day in the Fortress!

She looked at the queen painfully and wished she could demand for it.

The grand Luna regarded the necklace with a wrinkled nose, the silver glinting like a mockery in her hand.

"I shouldn't even be touching that," she muttered, tossing it dismissively to one of the flustered servants. "Never forget your place, girl." With that final barb, the Luna swept out of the room, leaving behind a suffocating silence and Sheera trembling with a wave of newfound anger.

Sheera exhaled deeply, succumbing to the weight of sadness as she plonked herself back to the chair. She should never have been born. All thanks to her father for betraying the late Alpha and making his family the most hated. Now, at twenty-three, she had been chosen to pay the price by becoming a plaything for a ruthless Alpha who had two mistresses.

Sheera wanted to scream. She had too much to worry about.

Out of habit, her hand reached for the only remaining necklace nestled against her skin. It wasn't much, a simple leather cord with a smooth, black stone.

She sighed in relief, grateful the queen hadn't taken that as well. She probably didn't, as it looked too cheap and dirty.

That was one thing Sheera couldn't let go of.

According to her mother, she's had it on from birth and was brought up to always have it on. Her mother always told her something terrible would happen if she ever took it off.

Sheera couldn't understand back then and had been curious. But now, she had gotten to fall in love with it and seemed to find solace in it each time her heart was troubled.

A creak on the other side of the door drew her attention. A Keeper, his face stoic, stood waiting. "Come with me," he instructed, a curt nod towards the heavy oak door.

Sheera rose, her chin held a little higher this time. She picked up her bags and followed him.

The Fortress was bigger than she had heard. People like her never get the privilege to walk through the Fortress gates unless you're a servant.

It was only on rare occasions when a major festival was being held that they could be in attendance. And well, Sheera's family had always been exempted due to her father's offense. They'd been neglected for too long.

Perhaps she should be happy that she was finally granted the privilege of staying in the Fortress. The only problem was she was no different from a slave.

The Keeper led her into a small room that had really small belongings. Sheera didn't need anyone to tell her it was hers. Just befitting.

"Stay here and await further instructions," the young man stated and left.

The Pack Keepers were men who worked for the Alpha and guarded the Pack. They were well-respected and feared by the Pack members.

Sheera looked around before settling on the bed. It wasn't too good for someone who was going to become a 'plaything' for the Alpha, but it was better than what she and her family had.

She clasped her palms together and prayed to the goddess of the moon, asking for her time in the Fortress not to be as difficult.

****†****†

The young Mistress Odessa only had a red transparent robe on and was lying on the Alpha's bed when the grand Luna swung the door open and walked in.

Odessa scrambled to her feet, a deep bow masking the simmering anger beneath her carefully constructed facade. She hated the Luna's habit of barging into the Alpha's chambers, especially when she was present. Imagine she and the Alpha had been intimate...

Valkyrie's cold eyes raked over Odessa from head to toe. The inspection was dismissive, laced with a disdain that spoke volumes.

"Where is the Alpha?" She asked.

"He was summoned to the court," Odessa replied, a slight frown creasing her brow.

"And if he's gone," Valkyrie pressed, her voice dripping with suspicion, "why are you here? Tell me, Odessa, doesn't the constant... intimacy with the Alpha grow wearisome? Especially since you have nothing to show for it. Don't you ever feel a pang of pain?"

Odessa couldn't hold back a scoff. The Luna's barbs were nothing new, but they stung nonetheless.

"I am sorry, my Luna," she said, her voice laced with barely concealed amusement. "But even Thessaly has been unable to conceive for the Alpha. We all know this."

Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut it!" she snapped, her voice sharp. "Perhaps you are both cursed then, unfit for this role."

Odessa dropped her head, fighting the urge to talk back at the queen. It was forbidden.

Valkyrie turned to leave, then paused as if struck by a sudden thought. A cruel smile played on her lips as she addressed Odessa.

"When my son returns, inform him that his plaything has arrived," she announced, savoring the hurt that flickered across Odessa's face,

With that parting shot, she swept out of the room, leaving Odessa alone with the bitter sting of humiliation.