Chapter 2

Danika huddled down in her empty, cold cell. She had been there for one week and craved to be outside… or anywhere—anywhere that wasn’t the frozen barren space of her cell. Only one bunk bed occupied the side of the room. Danika hadn’t seen her captor in the past week, and that was when he walked up to her, staring at her with the stoniest eyes she had ever seen as he reached around her neck and collared her. His slave. His property, he’d called her.

A chill went down Danika’s arms. She had never seen such raw hatred in anybody’s eyes. King Lucien hated her. Danika knew the reason better than anybody. Oh, did she know.

One week ago, she was Princess Danika, daughter of King Cone of Mombana. She was feared and respected. No one dared look at her twice. No one would dare look her in the eyes. Or dare walk the path she walked unless they had no value for their life. Her father saw to that.

Now, her father was dead, their kingdom taken over by the ruthless King Lucien.

The sound of footsteps and chains rattling drew Danika’s attention towards the door of the cell. The door opened, and a bodyguard entered, carrying a tray of food. Danika’s stomach rumbled, hunger coursing through her. Reminding her that this was her first meal since morning, and it suspiciously looked like evening now.

“Here’s your food, Priiiincess.” The guard stretched the syllable in disgust. Everyone here hated her; and Danika knew it. She raised her chin defiantly, saying nothing. “The king will be here in a few hours. Be ready to receive him,” he announced before walking away.

Fear slid through her. She wasn’t ready to face her captor yet. But it had been one week, and Danika knew it was inevitable.

Two hours later, the sun had almost set when Danika heard footsteps followed by, “The king has arr—”

“Do not announce me, Chad,” came the curt reply that sent chills down Danika’s arms. In all her twenty-one years of life, she never heard a voice so cold.

“I apologize, my king,” Chad quickly said.

Sounds of chains… and then someone threw the door open. Only the king entered because Danika heard just one almost-unheard footstep. The door closed behind him.

Suddenly, her cold barren cell was no longer so…barren. She raised her eyes and stared at him with her own hatred in her eyes. He was big, like a warrior, but he had the bearing of a king. Danika knew he was thirty-five years old and larger than life itself. Even when he was her father’s slave, that regality was present around him, no matter how much they had beaten him—how much they had tortured him.

They stared at each other, the malice between them apparent. Only King Lucien’s wasn’t just hate—it was loathing. Full of raw hatred and rage. There was no warmth in his eyes. His face would have been handsome, but a thick scar ran over one cheek, giving him a savage look.

He stalked closer to her, bent down, and ran his hand through her blonde—almost white—long hair, then gripped it tightly and yanked hard, forcing her head back so she had to stare into the ocean that was his eyes. Pain seared her.

“When I come in here, you’ll address me. You don’t just sit like a coward staring at me, or I’ll punish you for it.” His eyes flashed red. “I would love nothing more than to punish you.”

Danika nodded. Yes, she hated this man—her captor—but she had a deep aversion to pain. She didn’t like pain at all and would do anything to avoid it… if she could.

“Yes… my king,”

Disgust flashed in his eyes. His hand lowered and rested on her barely covered breast. He circled her nipple through her clothing, and then pinched Danika so hard she cried out as a thick wave of pain reverberated through her. He held the nub tight as he looked her in the eyes. “I am not your king, and I will never be your king. I am a king to my people, and you’re not my people. You’re my slave, Danika. My property.”

Danika nodded quickly, wishing he’d let go of her hurting nipple.

Instead, he twisted her nipple harder so that her eyes watered. “You will address me as your master, and you will serve me. Just like my servants… only more.” His lips curved into a savage smile filled with hatred. “Surely, you know how a slave serves her master. After all, your father taught you well.”

“Yes! Yes!” she cried, curling her hands into fists. “Please, just let go!”

He pinched harder. “Yes… what?”

“Yes, M-Master.” Angry tears filled her eyes. Danika hated that word more than anything because of how demeaning it was.

He let go almost immediately and backed away from her, his face devoid of any emotion. Standing up, he ripped her flimsy top to shreds, exposing her naked breasts to his cold, unfeeling eyes.

Tears of humiliation choked Danika’s throat. She fisted her wretched skirt to not to give in to the urge to cover herself from him.

His eyes didn’t change as he took in her body. No flash of lust. Nothing. Instead, he palmed one breast—the one with the aching, red, abused nipple—and caressed it. “Stand.”

She stood on shaky legs, staring at the ground with blurry eyes.

“Chad!” he barked.

She froze and tried to get away from him to seek cover for her state of undress, but the hand that held her breast tightened, stopping her movement—unless she wanted to risk more pain.

“Your Highness?” The big man entered, staring at his king.

“Take a good look at this slave, Chad. Do you like what you see?”

Chad’s eyes caressed her body, and Danika wished the ground would open and swallow her. But she stood defiantly, staring Chad squarely in the face.

Lust blanketed Chad’s eyes as he looked at her hungrily. “Can I touch?”he asked eagerly. Chad stared at the king again before walking out, and Danika discovered that there was a look in the man’s eyes when he gazed at his king. Not hate—no, not hate. But she couldn’t place that look.

“Guards!” the king called, but he didn’t raise his voice.

Two guards appeared. “Yes, Your Highness.”

His cold eyes didn’t leave Danika. “Tell the servants to bathe my slave once I’m done here. Get her clean and have her in my chambers in three hours.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The guards were reluctant to leave because they her nudity enraptured them.

Danika focused on the king with anger and hate in her teary eyes, defiance in her stance.

He released her breast finally. “I will hurt you in ways that you will live and crave pain. I will do to you everything you and your father did to me and my people and more. I will share you with as many as I want, and I will train you to be the most obedient of dogs.”

The taste of fear was tangible on Danika’s tongue, but she didn’t allow it to show on her face. She knew all this would happen even before he came in.

His lips twitched, drawing emphasis to his scarred cheek. “I will break you, Danika.”

“You can never break me, you monster!” The words tore from Danika’s lips.

Her eyes widened because she talked back at him. Slaves do not talk back at their masters or there would be punishment.

He didn’t disappoint. The king grabbed the chain of Danika’s collar and yanked on it hard, and Danika cried out.

His eyes flashed. He tilted her chin up, his grip strong. “I love seeing so much fire in you because I am going to love quenching all of it. You have no idea what I have in store for you; or maybe you do. After all, you once trained slaves.”

My father trained slaves! she almost screamed at him.

Pure hatred dripped from the king’s bitter words. “Your training starts tonight. You will be in my bed.”

He stood and stalked out of the room like a huge, lethal panther.