The Alpha King's Hated Slave
The Alpha King’s Hated Slave Chapter 42

Coza started whipping his bloody back again.

He gave no reaction, but he could feel his own skin at his back ripping open with each stroke of the whip at the bleeding wound.

Then, he felt a weight on top of him. Declan had fallen on him, shielding his body with his. Declan is twenty two, when he was twenty-nine.

Declan, who’s always been ‘the pretty boy’ as the guards like to call him. They like to pick on him, but Lucien always shielded and protected him. No matter what he had to do to protect him.

Lucien had a lot of weaknesses back in captivity because he cared about all his people, but Declan was his greatest weakness.

Coza was furious, he started whipping Declan instead.

Declan’s hoarse shouts filled the air with each stroke of the whip but he never got up.

Lucien had tried to move…to protect Declan, but he couldn’t move his body. Lucien always tries to protect Declan just as much as Declan always tries to protect him.

Declan is no slave, he can’t take intense torture. Lucien always tries to protect him, but that day…he was unable to.

They whipped him so badly, Declan was almost unconscious when suddenly, King Cone’s arrival was announced.

Lucien wasn’t at the right frame of mind but he heard Cone asking what was happening. When Coza told him, he’d laughed at ‘Declan’s stupidity.’

Then, he’d ordered Coza to whip Declan some more and to f**k him.

“Let’s see how the tough prince can take it.” He’d added, laughing maniacally.

It was the last straw Lucien. His mind was shouting the words ‘NOOO!!’ but his mouth couldn’t talk. His body wouldn’t move from the ground no matter how he tried to move it.

Coza, who swings both ways, was all too happy with the command.

It gave him greater happiness because he knows that it’s a great way to hurt Lucien…to mess with Lucien. Hurting Declan.

Lucien could remember pleading with Cone for the first time in years. He begged Cone. It was a mistake, because it only gave Cone joy.

Cone had laughed at him, walked closer and dragged him by the hair, forcing his neck so back it almost crack, the metal from his collar bruising the back of his neck.

“Why don’t you watch?” He’d leaned closer to his ears and whispered, “Hear his screams and know that he’s being tortured right in front of you and you can do nothing to stop it.”

And his words had been right.

He’d laid there on the ground, his eyes watching it happen but he could do nothing to stop it. It had torn him apart.

It’s the first time he was unable to protect Declan. And that was the day they took the boy from him. The day, they bathed in his b***d.

Declan’s howls of pain was one he never forgot. Not only did Coza rape his body, the bloody monster used his knife to shred his already-bloody back open.

Coza had used his knife to design Declan’s back just to see how much b***d can follow the trail of his knife…

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Lucien shot up from the bed, his breathing erratic. Sweat poured down from his body.

The bad dream and memory had his black heart so tight in his chest, he gripped his chest with his hand just to stop the pain. It doesn’t work.

It was all fresh in his mind like it happened yesterday….like it happened earlier in the day at the courtroom.

All the pain he felt with each howl Declan let out as life was sucked right out of him, came right back to Lucien’s mind threatening to suffocate him.

All the pain he felt as he watched the life sucked out of Declan wrapped their invisible hand around his neck like the collar he wore for ten years, and choked him, cutting off his breath.

It was too much. It’s always been too much.

He closed his eyes and he remembered how they’d taken away Declan lifeless body afterwards, and they’d taken a crying Vetta too.

Vetta was brought back three days later. Declan never came back.

Lucien closed his eyes against the pain, but there’s no escaping a pain of that magnitude. Six years hasn’t wiped that pain away.

And the events of the day…wiped away the years. It left the pain naked and raw, they clawed at his mind.

He hurt. And rage filled him too. Coza was the first he’d killed when he had the chance…but Declan is still gone.

It hurts especially the events of his death. The shouts. The pain. The struggle. The fact that he died because of him.

The door handle clicked and his door opened. Lucien’s hand was on his head, he stared at the door from behind his hand.

Danika stood there. Her eyes swollen, her face wet with tears. There was fear in her eyes, but there was also pain. The same pain that mirrored in his eyes.

She came to him.

Lucien knew almost immediately why she took the courage to come to his room. She is obviously breaking apart. She wants to use one pain to substitute another.

It’s called trying to escape—survive—by feeling ‘a different kind of pain.’

He knows this because this is him.

She closed the door behind her and stood against it, her breathing erratic, her eyes swollen.

Silence filled the air. Only erratic breathings of two people who breathed the pain from a horror that rubs the soul.

“What are you doing here, Danika?” He asked after all.

She shook her head, her legs trembling. She doesn’t know how to say it…how to talk about it. She doesn’t know what she wants, but her body knows what it wants.

Shaky hands rose and went to her clothes, she started taking them off. One after another, she peeled off her clothing until she wore just skin.

She rose to her full height and stared at him. He said nothing, but his eyes held hers. Eyes that mirrored the same pain on hers held her.

Then, she lowered herself to her knee. “Master…” She called tearfully.

He got up from the bed and walked in measured steps towards her. He reached closer and stopped without touching her.

His eyes watched her carefully, taking in her visual aspect. The silence was tense.

“Why are you trying to mess with my head, Danika?” He g*****d at last, his voice hard.

Danika’s teary eyes searched his face. She doesn’t understand what he means. Her face spoke volume about her cluelessness.

His hand went to her jaw and he tilted her face up, to stare at her perfectly. “Your father already messed with my head to the extent all the right brain cells has been fried by torture. I have the same head as an insane man.”

Her lashes fluttered shut and tears slipped from the sides, following the trail of the dried tears on her cheek, but his hand on her jaw shook her slightly, forcing her eyes open.

He lowered his head to become eye level with her, “Now, I ask you again, why do you want to mess with my head?”

He pulled back then and took some steps back, his face unreadable. “Because, I wonder how a monster like Cone can birth the woman you’re showing the world? The woman you’re trying to make me see?”

She shook her head, at the loss of word. The question floated in their midst. On the air.

He averted his eyes, staring away from her. The silence stretched, he said nothing.

Even as his body reacted to the sight of her beautiful lush naked body…so white it’s almost pale…so flawless like a procelain, he said nothing.

Finally, his eyes bored into hers.

“If I touch you, I won’t hold back.” His voice was low like gravel and grated like sandpaper, it caused her shiver to work down her spine.

Her eyes met his, “I don’t want you…to hold back.”

Silence.

Then, he stepped back again. “Get on the bed, Danika.”