Chapter 3

Danika was finally taken away from her cage immediately after the king’s visit. She saw places that weren’t her cold barren cage, and it made her feel better for the moment. However, her heart beat faster whenever she remembered the reason they took her out of her cell for the first time in a week.

They put her in a tub, and the maids bathed her just like the king instructed. Funny, that maids would bathe a slave. But then again, it was not surprising if the slave’s destination was the king’s bed.

Three maids attended to her. One of them, the oldest named Baski, was the one in charge.

They loosened her hair and combed out the tangles, leaving it in a long, curly mess. The clothes they had her put on made Danika cringe. It was barely any clothing; she might as well be naked. A red leather skirt that barely covered her hips and a red leather top that only covered her nipples, stopping just above her belly was all she wore.

Then they gave her a long robe that covered her near nudity. They sprayed fragrance on her too.

“All done,” Baski announced.

Danika stared at herself in the mirror, and for a moment, she saw herself like she used to be, Princess Danika.

“You can go over to the king’s chambers now. It’s not advisable to keep him waiting,” Baski stated curtly.

Danika said nothing. She desperately wanted to ask these people how ‘her people’ were. She hadn’t seen any of her people since they brought her to King Lucien’s palace.

Were they slaves, too? Had they sold them as sex slaves? Were they shared amongst the privileged, rich families of Salem? After all, that was exactly what her father did to the people of Salem. She was worried, but she knew she had no right to be.

She had more pressing things to worry about. Like the fact that the king of Salem, who hated her with every fiber of his being, was about to take her virginity.

She stood at the entrance of his chambers, staring at the door, then hesitantly knocked.

“Come in,” came the curt reply. His deep voice reverberated through her.

She opened the door and walked in. The light illuminated the room. The chambers were bathed in gold. It was the most beautiful sight she had seen, but the situation wasn’t exactly favoring Danika’s sense of exploration and appreciation. She could only stare at the massive man who occupied one side of the room. At thirty-five years old, she has never seen a man who looked more larger than life than King Lucien.

Watching him as he stuck a feather into the inkwell on the table, he withdrew it and continued scribbling on the scroll before him. It was difficult to believe that this man had ever been a slave.

But he was. For ten whole years he endured unspeakable tortures at the hands of her father. Now, he was paying it back.

The king raised his head finally and stared at Danika, holding the feather, watched her blatantly. All over her, his eyes crawled over her skin like hands. Danika shivered. His eyes were cold. Pure contempt filled his features. Danika wondered if this man ever knew what it was like to smile.

Slowly, the king pushed his chair back, still staring at her. “Remove the robe,” he commanded.

Danika hesitated.

His eyes flashed dangerously, and he licked his lips calculatingly.

Danika forced her hands to move. She pulled the robe from her body, leaving her only in her skimpy uniform.

His eyes never left her face. “Let’s get one thing straight, slave. The next time I address you and you don’t respond, well, I will take out a whip and mar your back with twenty strokes. Are we clear?”

Danika’s eyes turned tormented. She hid it immediately so he wouldn’t see how affected she was.

“Yes… Master,” she spoke, trying to hide her defiance. A word that was supposed to portray submission portrayed pure rebellion.

If he noticed, he said nothing. He got up and strolled around the table, then leaned against it and pinned her with cold eyes.

“Strip.” One word. One command.

Rebellion fled with that one word. “Please,” she whispered impulsively. But she knew she had already made a mistake.

Like a panther, he stalked closer to her, and it took everything in her not to step back from him.

He yanked her hair so hard, her head snapped back, and she bit her lips to keep from crying out from the pain. There was nothing like remorse in his eyes, only hatred so raw it chilled her. “You either strip or I call the guards to help you.”

Her hands went to the neck of her top, and she started untying the ropes that held the clothing together. Undressed completely, she allowed the clothing to fall to the ground. She felt panic and helplessness in her situation. A question popped into her head, overwhelming her mind.

She had to ask. Even if it would cause her to be punished, she must ask this.“Why me?” she whispered.

Blue, emotionless eyes met hers. His brows arched.

“Why not my father? Why me?” she asked hoarsely.

He kept silent, raising his hand to caress her face. He raised her chin up. “Why me, Danika?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“My father was on the throne when your father attacked us. My mother was with Nina, my pregnant little sister, and I was just twenty years old. Why did your father kill them all and take me captive?” His voice was low, deadly, and emotionless.

He had a sister who was pregnant? Tears burned the back of Danika’s eyes because this wasn’t looking any good for her.

“For the past fifteen years, I asked myself that question. ‘Why me?’” he growled. “Why kill all my family and take only me to hell?”

Danika was speechless. She clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t know the answer to that.

Cold eyes trailed her neck as she swallowed.

“Do you know my greatest anger when I look at you?”

Danika shook her head helplessly.

He caressed the collar on her neck—the collar that branded her. “You’re the only child he has. Why did he have to have just one child? You’re not enough for what I have in mind, Danika. You alone cannot endure my hate and anger. You alone cannot take all the demons I have to unleash.”

A chill spread over Danika’s body with each sentence he bit out. Each of them emphasized feelings that had grown for years—feelings that he nurtured deep inside him.

His dead eyes finally met hers again. “You, Danika, might not be enough…but you’ll do. Now, get on the bed.”