Chapter 22: You Should Know The Men You Warm Their Bed Are Not Here To Protect You
Iris’s POV
"My friend! Good to see you!" A muscular voice exclaimed, brimming with what seemed like genuine excitement. I lifted my gaze just enough to see Alpha Trent, the imposing leader of the Warborn pack, walking toward Alpha Darius with open arms. Darius accepted the hug as they hugged for what felt like seconds. Behind Trent, four warriors flanked him. Each wore the Warborn’s signature black leather armor, their hands resting on the hilts of swords strapped to their waists as two stood at the side of the gigantic doors while the other two stood on the other side, their faces emotionless, their gazes sweeping the crowd.
Trent pulled back from Darius as he then turned to the gathered crowd, his eyes scanning every face, maids, warriors, elders, and pack members as he raised a hand, commanding instant silence. And then he began. "Well, well, what a warm welcome!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a mocking edge that made my skin prickle in irritation at his sight, my past memories came flooding back. "I’m honored to stand among the Blackbane pack. And now, it seems, we’re all one big happy family." His lips curled into a smile. The crowd murmured, some nodding eagerly, while others shifting uncomfortably. I caught some sign of sadness in the eyes of a few pack members, those who had never supported Darius’s rule and clearly despised Trent’s arrival.
Trent sauntered toward a long table filled with food and drink as he moved and without hesitation, he grabbed a silver goblet, poured a generous amount of wine from a decanter, and took a long swig, some of the liquid dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, then snatched a roasted chicken thigh from a platter, tearing into it with his teeth. The grease glistened on his lips as he chewed nonchalantly as he surveyed the room.
"As you all know," Trent announced, his voice cutting through the murmurs, "Darius my friend couldn’t pay his debts." He paused, his gaze locking onto Darius, who stood, his fists clenched at his sides. "And that’s why I’m here. To take what’s owed."
He gestured toward us maids, lined up like statues, our heads still bowed. "These servants," Trent continued, "will now serve the Warborn pack. My men will escort them. Don’t worry, they’ll be back in a few days. We just need their... services for a bit."
He waved a hand dismissively, and his warriors moved toward us. Amelia, standing beside me, spoke to me in a whisper. "Don’t mess things up, you’ve done enough." Her voice was barely audible as I smiled to her words. It was obvious she was already getting a fear that I would cause a scene. Just then, the warriors bound our wrists with coarse rope, tying us to one another in a line. I glanced at Alpha Darius who and then the triplets, Zane, Cade, and Kael who still sat on their thrones. Zane’s lips twitched into a smirk as his eyes met mine.
Leaving here, I’d say, was a relief. At least I would finally get to stay for at least a day without their troubles.
The journey to Warborn was a nightmare. They forced us to walk for days, the rough ground injuring into the soles of our feet. The ropes chafed our wrists, leaving angry red marks. No food, no water, just the relentless rain and sun heating down on us and the occasional grunt from Trent’s warriors as they tugged us forward urging us to move faster. Trent rode ahead on his horse, dragging a line of exhausted maids behind him. We rested only twice, brief pauses that felt more like torture than relief because we weren’t even given the opportunity to go urinate or drink some water from the river we passed. During those two-day intervals, they untied us just long enough to collapse onto the hard ground, our bodies aching, our throats parched. Amelia on the other hand didn’t stop worrying about me, considering the fact she looked exhausted too. "We’ll get through with this," she muttered. I nodded, too tired to speak, but her presence encouraged me.