Alpha’s Black Furred Slave Mate
Chapter 72

Sitting in a guest bedroom of the Roessler manor was never something Kamala thought was going to happen. She spent most of her life on the run until she was captured and put on the slave farm; then once she got out of the slave farm, she was on the run again. Being on the run was all she ever knew until she met Deonna once again. Once she and Deonna connected, she decided to stick around. She couldn't just abandon her dear friend and her friend's son. She needed to be here in case things went south; and knowing Marlon Roessler, anything could go south at any moment. Marlon might have freed the slaves and fought in a war to protect Deonna and Mateo, but he was far from being a trusted wolf. Regardless of what they do, she didn't trust any noble or royal. She only knew them to be greedy and ruthless. They were racists who fed off the misery of dark-furred wolves. Kamala knew this second hand.

She was born to 2 slaves that resided in a noblemen's home. They were able to hide the pregnancy well, but they found it more difficult once her mother gave birth. They had to do the birth themselves with only a couple of other slaves to help them. Once Kamala was born, they had to hide her well before the nobles found her.

Unfortunately, when Kamala was able to walk, he walked into the gardens of the noble home and was caught by a couple of maids. They alerted the master of the home, and they were ordered to death. Kamala's parents managed to escape with Kamala, and they lived life on the run.

Kamala hardly remembers what it was like, but she remembers the cold nights and the hunger pains. They had to keep a low profile so transitioning into werewolves was something they had to keep at a minimum. Plus, most of the woods were being guarded and property of other nobles and royals. If they transitioned into their wolf forms, their scent would be tracked almost instantly, and they would be killed on the spot.

They were on the run until Kamala was about 5 years old. They stopped for a rest in an area but didn't patrol the area well enough. They didn't know a young girl was hunting around the woods. She was no older than 16. She saw Kamala first and screamed; she had never seen a dark-furred wolf out in the open before and she didn't know what to think of it.

Kamala's parents were quick to come to her rescue; they tried to silence the panicked girl, but she was too frantic. That was a core memory Kamala had kept for years to come. The look of terror on that girl's face. Kamala felt awful for scaring her so badly and didn't mean any harm.

Before the girl could take off running towards her home, Kamala's mother transitioned into her wolf form and tore the girl apart. Kamala was terrified at what her mother has become. She's never seen her mother change into her wolf form before and the fact that she was in her wolf form and mauling that young girl to death. It was something Kamala could never get out of her head.

Her mother was covered in the young girl's blood; the girl's corpse was laid out in the middle of the woods for anyone to see. Her father was trying to figure out a spot to hide the girl before anyone sees, but they moved quickly because of Kamala's mother's scent. The wolf scent mixed with the girl's scent. It was too much.

But it was too late; before they could figure out where to hide the girl and where to go, they were already being hunted. Kamala remembered the terror of her parents as guards grabbed Kamala, chaining, cuffing, and bounding her around the neck. Kamala could hardly breathe as the chains around her neck nearly cut off her airwaves.

Her mother screamed and cried for them to release Kamala, but that only angered them. One of the guards took out a gun, something Kamala had never seen before. She had no idea what it was used for until it was used. They shot her mother in the head. Her father tried to run to his wife's rescue, but they shot him next.

Kamala was afraid she was going to be next. They looked her over; one of the guards walked closer to her. She could smell the rancid scent of beer on his breath as he bent down so he was at eye level with her.

"How old you, dirtball?" He asked; his voice kept low and sent a chill down Kamala's spine.

"5... I think..." Kamala stammered nervously; trying not to make eye contact with the strange man standing before her.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"K...Kamala," she stammered again.

Her entire body trembling in fear; she was breathing heavily due to not having enough air in her lungs to breathe steadily.

After a careful look over, he straightened his stance and looked at the guard that was holding onto her chains.

"Slave farm," he ordered the guard.

He didn't hesitate, he nodded and yanked the chains to a point where Kamala fell over and was being dragged by her neck. She began coughing and gasping for air; at that moment, there wasn't enough air in the world that could satisfy her. She saw one glimpse of her parent's remains: blood pouring out of their heads. That was the last time she ever saw them.

She's not even sure where they are buried.

Kamala sat in the guest bedroom with the memory flooding into her. She rubbed her bare arms; she was chilly. There weren't any blankets in this room; the bed was made of white sheets, but there wasn't a top layer. Like the maids had cleaned the room but didn't finish dressing the bed.

This was her new life; they have only been here for a few hours. Mateo was sleeping soundly in his crib next to the bed, while Deonna and Marlon were being reacquainted in his room. She could only imagine what they were doing in there.

She brushed the thought out of her mind because it was disgusting to her.

The idea of a nobleman and a slave together; wasn't something that was ever supposed to happen. Leave it to Deonna to make something like that happen.

She always said that she wanted to make a difference, and she's definitely making things different.

A tap on the door startled Kamala; she wasn't expecting to be speaking or seeing anybody tonight. Before she could stand to open the door, it was already opening.

She rolled her eyes; figured they wouldn't have the decency to wait for her to open the door herself. Why would they? She was only a slave to them. It's not like she mattered to them.

She was surprised to see Bob holding a big comforter at the door.

"Sorry to bother you," he muttered; though he didn't look sorry at all. "The maids said they were heading here to give you a comforter for the bed. Figured I'd take it to you instead and formally introduce myself."

Kamala rolled her eyes as she went to grab the comforter from him.

"No introduction necessary, Mr. Roessler," Kamala said, trying to keep her tone as formal as possible.

He frowned.

"Mr. Roessler is my father. Please, call me Bob," he said as he watched her place the comforter over the bed.

It was a pretty white comforter with little yellow roses stitched in the fabric and swirled around in a beautiful design she noticed around the manor. The design was also stitched into the clothing of Marlon and Bob as she noticed when she first arrived. "Mr. Bob Roessler, "she said with a smirk.

He grimaced at the name, but he didn't correct her anymore.

"I hope you don't think that seeming you are residing in this room, that it has become your bedroom," Bob told her as she neatened the comforter from its creases.

She frowned and glanced over at him; he looked a lot like his father. His hair was silvery and sleek; it reached around his shoulders, and he had it neatly tucked around his ear. It showed off his narrow features; he had a scruffy face, which was unlike Marlon who kept his face neatly shaved. It gave Bob a masculine look. His eyes were pools of blue with dark lashes.

She could tell that the ladies around town probably fell head over heels for him whenever he walked by. But Kamala wasn't one to be flattered by good looks.

"Of course not," Kamala told him as she sat down on the bed; she stared up at him and blinked a few times before asking, "Was there something else I can do for you?"

He broke eye contact, clearing his throat as she shuffled towards the door.

"No, I just wanted to welcome you and..." his voice trailed off.

"And to warn me to not get too comfortable?" She finished for him, catching his eyes again.

He pressed his mouth in a thin line.

"Exactly," he said quickly as he shut the door behind him.

Mateo stirred uncomfortably in his crib for a moment, yawning tiredly before falling back into his sleeping position. Kamala stared at the door that Bob just walked through; confused as to what the hell that was.