The Alpha's Little Slave

Chapter 112: Walls of Silver

Elijah and I watched as Damon got ushered into the meeting room.

It hadn’t even been minutes before I had marked Damon did Alpha Natan send someone over to knock on the door. Apparently, Alpha Natan had somewhere else to be later on and thus, they had to rush with the meeting and could no longer afford such a long resting period.

Where he needed to be, Damon didn’t ask, and neither did I as it wasn’t my place to. However, one pointed look from Damon and I knew that we shared the same thought― it no doubt had something to do with Ironclaw’s recent silver sales.

Alpha Natan had once again leered at my body, his eyes lingering a tad bit too long at all the wrong places before giving Elijah and me permission to tour the grounds. He waved, and one of his werewolves approached us.

"Bring them around Ironclaw," Alpha Natan ordered. "Let it not be said that Ironclaw doesn’t know how to treat guests well. Who knows? Maybe you might love it enough to stay."

There were no prizes for guessing who he was addressing with his words. His leering gaze and lecherous smile made it more than obvious. I felt as though I was doused in oil and slime, and I desperately wanted a shower to scrub myself clean.

On second thought, a shower would be a terrible idea. Alpha Natan probably had them bugged too. I could only respond with a bland, polite smile. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"Might we begin our discussion?" Damon demanded, once again deliberately blocking me from Alpha Natan’s view.

From our bond, I could feel a wave of irritation crash into my body, mixing with those that I originally already had for this good-for-nothing pervert. It delighted me, to some extent, that Damon cared enough to prevent Alpha Natan from even looking at what he couldn’t touch.

"Of course, of course," Alpha Natan nodded agreeably, and the doors slammed shut.

"This way, Charlie Elijah, Miss Harper," the woman Alpha Natan had called over said, a faint pleasant smile hanging on her lips.

She walked ahead while Elijah and I followed closely behind, making sure to keep enough distance between us so that if we whispered, she might not be able to catch our conversation, especially if our surroundings were noisy enough.

"Something happened in there, didn’t it?" Elijah asked, his voice barely even audible as he kept his gaze straight ahead.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Between you and the Alpha," Elijah hissed. "I can practically smell―"

"Alpha Natan and Alpha Damon’s discussion should be done in less than an hour," the woman suddenly said, causing us both to jump in our skins. We turned our attention to her; she hadn’t even turned around as she spoke, casually bringing us around some of the spots around Ironclaw. "As such, I will keep the tour to the packhouse’s immediate compound."

"Thank you for the tour," Elijah politely responded, his voice quickly swapping back to an award-winning customer service tone.

"You are very welcome," the woman replied. "However, there is no need to thank me. I am just doing what the Alpha commands."

Elijah and I shared a look― that response didn’t sound very right, for some reason, and it seemed like Elijah agreed with me as well.

"I heard that Ironclaw dabbles in all sorts of metals," Elijah began, slowly enunciating his words while carefully watching the woman’s reaction. She didn’t seem to have any. "Rumors say that you live among silver?"

"That is correct," she breezily replied.

"Is it not taxing on your bodies?" I couldn’t help but ask.

This time, the woman turned back and cast me a nasty look. For a split second, I thought I saw a hint of hostility written in her eyes. It was gone when I blinked, replaced by a perfectly cordial smile.

"Of course not," she replied. I turned to glance at Elijah, who merely gave me a small shrug. The woman continued, "Silver is both a precious and powerful resource to Ironclaw. It is useful for trade and also highly effective in protecting the pack from possible intruders."

This time, I was sure I hadn’t mistaken it. There was a threat woven into her words. I turned my gaze to the people of Ironclaw right after she spoke. Just as I suspected, dozens of eyes were plastered on us, subtly watching our every move as we made our way through Ironclaw’s territory. It wasn’t at all curiosity that lingered in their gazes.

No.

It was hostility. We were not welcome guests here.

Even though Damon and Alpha Natan were having a discussion regarding a possible alliance, it was obvious that the people of Ironclaw weren’t exactly too fond of the idea. Perhaps, it was even too early to say that Alpha Natan himself was keen.

"I think I would prefer staying indoors after all," Elijah suddenly said. He made an act of fanning himself, smiling apologetically. "I’m not feeling very well. Thus, I thought it might’ve been the silver. Now that you’ve graciously explained, I think that might be it. Will it be alright if we return to the resting lounge?"

"Why, of course!" the woman chirped.

She turned and began to make her way back to the packhouse. It wasn’t that far― we hadn’t managed to make it too far out. She also seemed much happier that she was about to get her hands off us instead of having to give us a tour for the next hour or so.

The sentiments definitely went both ways― Elijah looked perfectly fine. He most likely just came up with that excuse so that we didn’t have to spend too much time with the people of Ironclaw. Who knew if we would get randomly mauled on the streets for being outsiders?

As we were led through the winding corridors of the packhouse, I mindlessly followed along. My mind couldn’t help but wander back to Blaise. How was he doing? Did Nicole manage to heal him yet?

Sighing, my hands moved to his mark, feeling the skin under my fingers. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest― if only he was here.

A distant chatter caught my attention, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up, and right as I did, I felt my blood freeze right in my veins. freewebnøvel.com

Across the corridor was a familiar man, following a guard dressed in Ironclaw’s warrior uniform. He had a lazy grin on his face, perfectly matching the look I last saw on him. With such striking white hair, he was difficult to miss.

Petral.