There was only one probable explanation.

I was living in a dream, a funny and terrifying one. "N-n-northern wolves?"

"Yes," Cyrus said, then acknowledged the man in front. "Theo, has the crisis been averted?"

"Considerably so. We reached a compromise."

"They should know better than to mess with us," snarled Cyrus. "Greedy pests," he hissed.

"Who is she?"

"Ah, my new slave. I paid a fine price for her."

"Again? A fine price? For a human? Those lowly backstabbing creatures?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes."

"You have an obsession." The man named Theo gave a tight smile and let out an exasperated breath. "Let's hope this one survives," he whistled then turned to me. "And you are?"

"Agnes." I ignored the hand he had out to shake me. "What do you mean by your statement?"

"What statement?" He asked, his hands still hanging out, waiting for a handshake that was never going to come.

"Let's hope this one survives?"

"Oh, it was nothing," he responded airily. "And it is not polite to leave someone's hand hanging."

"Who am I to shake your hand?" I asked with a smile. "I, a lowly backstabbing creature. A human, shake the hand of someone as powerful and upright as you?"

Cyrus grinned but the grin was wiped away almost immediately and he shot me a look that would have frozen a furnace. "You are to regard everyone with respect," he hissed.

I raised my brows at him. "I was being respectful. Who am I to shake his hand?"

"That was very sarcastic," Cyrus hissed. "Apologize right away."

"I did not do anything wrong," I said defiantly, raising my chin. "I will not apologize."

His grip around my wrist tightened and in a voice that left no room for disobedience, he said. "Apologize, now."

*+*+*+*+*+*+*

"What the hell is this?" Cyrus spat out the seventh tea I had made for him. He had complained of the first one being too bitter, and then the second being too sweet. Then the third had a tangy taste. He kept on finding faults in the tea I had made for him. "Do you not know how to make tea?"

"Maybe if I was prepared for slavehood or I had one of your former slaves teach me the recipe for your tea this wouldn't be happening!" I snapped at him angrily.

It had not been up to an hour since I arrived here that I was being subjected to a lot of work. He had not even given me time to settle down at all. My bags had been carried to only the heavens know where.

"Do not speak to me in such a rude tone," he said in a cold voice that sent chills down my spine. "Control your smart mouth," he hissed.

I pursed my lips and gave the politest smile I could muster. "I apologize, Master. I shall learn to speak appropriately."

"You did not mean it."

Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh. "Why should it matter if I mean my words or not?" I asked. "After all, I am following your instructions."

"You should serve me as though you want to."

"News flash, I don't want to! I was sold into becoming your slave, so my behaviour should not surprise you."

"I was under the impression you were well-mannered."

Snorting, I picked up the tray that contained the teacup. "I shall make you another one your majesty."

Then something occurred to me. With the way everyone seemed to cower in fear around him and lower their heads as he passed, was he a king? I have only called him 'Your Majesty' sarcastically. "Are you the king here?"

Cyrus gave me an evil side eye before he responded. "I am the Alpha of this pack. So yes, you can say I am a king."

"Kings are usually old," I shrugged. "You are pretty young."

"Get me another tea."

"Of course," I walked away, rolling my eyes. When I got to the massive kitchen, I poured the contents of the tea into a waste pot and sighed.

"Do you need help with that?" A girl smiled walking into the kitchen. She did not seem to be a maid based on the aura she gave off. "Cyrus can be difficult and picky when it comes to what he consumes."

"Who are you?" I asked, intrigued by her. It was also strange that she had called him Cyrus.

"No one of importance," she grinned. "Let me teach you."

I watched as she gathered the leaves and mashed them in a pestle together with honey. Then she added a squeeze of lemon into it and transferred the content to a bowl of hot water. After this, she stirred it well and strained it into a cup. "I'm sure you just boiled the leaves in hot water, added lemon and honey and that was it."

"Yes," I answered. "But what difference does it make?"

"Quite a lot." She placed the cup on a tray and handed it to me. "Go ahead. Cyrus hates to be kept waiting."

I smiled at her and walked as quickly as I could back to the study where Cyrus sat. He observed the tray in his front with a raised eyebrow and picked up the cup.

He scrutinized it slowly as he had done before and sniffed it twice, before placing it on his lips and taking a sip. "Adequate," he mumbled and drank the rest of it with a satisfied smile.

I smiled back, relieved that he had not sent me to make another one and also internally grateful for the strange girl who had helped me out.

His expression of satisfaction was soon replaced by an unreadable look. "You were not the one who made this tea, were you?"

"Should it matter?" I asked. "It was drinkable."

"If there's one thing I dislike, it is when I assign a duty to someone and they reassign it to another person.�

"Oh please," I scoffed. "The job was done. You had your tea the way you liked it. Why should it matter who made the tea?"

"I am telling you that in future, I will not tolerate such." It was when he said this, that I noticed he had taken off his tailcoat and his shirt was unbuttoned. I looked away quickly.

"Oh please," I scoffed. "The job was done. You had your tea the way you liked it. Why should it matter who made the tea?"

"I am telling you that in future, I will not tolerate such." It was when he said this, that I noticed he had taken off his tailcoat and his shirt was unbuttoned. I looked away quickly. 

"Oh, how nice!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with sarcasm. "Maybe in the future, you should get someone to train me to do certain tasks that I am not used to doing."

"What have I told you about respect?" He stood up coolly and walked to my front. I took a step back and he moved forward. "I am the Alpha of this pack. Your master," he hissed. 

With shaky legs, I moved backward until I was against the wall. Previously, I had a comeback for everything he had to say but suddenly, his aura felt too intimidating and I could not respond. 

He leaned against me, his angry eyes boring deep into my soul, daring me to defy him. I whimpered slightly, trying to shrink into the wall behind me. 

His gaze softened a bit and his eyes dropped to my lips. Instinctively, I bit on it and avoided his eyes, swallowing hard. I could feel the warmth emanating from his body and my eyes traveled to the lines of abs on his stomach and the v shape that went down his trousers.

Something strange stirred within me as I observed his physical features. I wanted to reach out and use my fingers to trace his body. Those were urges I had never felt before. 

"What are you staring at?" His voice was husky as he asked this question and his eyes were clouded by something that I could not fathom. 

He did not give me room to answer. His fingers were on my lips and he dipped his head, his lips only inches away from mine. Realizing how compromising our position was, he cleared his throat and stepped away from me.

"Get lost."

*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Cyrus demanded me to be by his side every time. 

I had thought that as his slave, he would exclude me from certain things. Like when he had political conversations with people but that was not the case. 

"Their government will pay a fine if any strays are caught here. A heftier fine if they should attack the humans amongst us. I seriously wonder why these wolves can't stick to eating animals and decide to go for humans.

“It is a cowardly move,” Cyrus agreed. “Imagine attacking defenseless creatures.”

There was a bit of silence before Cyrus spoke again. 

"The same goes for us does it not? If there's a stray wolf in their lands."

"Yes," Theo sighed. "It took a long time to agree. The argument was that a stray Northern wolf was more dangerous than a stray Southern wolf."

Cyrus snorted. "We won't be dangerous if those greedy bastards did not steal our slaves and kill them just to taste human meat."

"I suppose so."

"Another thing," Theo said. "One of their men needs your blood for healing."

"Why would I give them?" 

"We are trying to avoid a war here Cyrus," Theo groaned. 

"Which wolf did he try to kill? That is the reason right?"

"He didn't try. He and Ava got into a squabble and she scratched him. His blood is contaminated with the chemical she uses to manicure her nails."

Cyrus chuckled. "Then Ava should give him her blood."

"She's being difficult as always. Please."

"Fine," Cyrus rolled his eyes. He pulled out a golden dagger from his pocket and stabbed his finger, allowing blood to drop into a wine glass. "That should do."

I was amazed at how the blood suddenly stopped flowing. 

"I believe we are done here." Cyrus stood up and then turned to me. "I am going to hunt. I shall be back in a few hours, make sure a bath is prepared for me by then."

Cyrus's POV

I had no intentions of hunting but I did not want to be in proximity of Agnes for a while. It had only been three days since we met, and a day of her being here, and somehow she had managed to stir feelings that I had not experienced in a very long time. Feelings that I had not experienced in a hundred years.

I tried to play off the sparks that had been between us earlier in the study. During my meeting with Theo, I tried my best to ignore her presence and act like it had never happened but a part of my subconscious could not get her off my mind. There was something about Agnes that intoxicated me. 

Could it be her smell? Or the way her * shaped blue eyes called me. Or was it the way her pouty lips moved when she spoke? Or the grace with which she walked? I had no idea. 

I walked away from the castle as briskly as I could, shooing the guards who tried to follow me away. I needed space and time to clear my mind from her. 

The evening breeze was cool against my skin as I walked towards my garden. On getting to the gates, I pushed them open and walked towards Agatha's grave standing in front of a fountain. 

It had been a long while since I had visited her grave and a wave of guilt washed over me as I remembered the feelings that I had experienced today. I felt guilty, as though I had betrayed Agatha for feeling that way about another woman. 

After Agatha's death, all forms of romantic feelings or feelings of lust left me. Despite the constant pressure of the elders to find a mate or wife who would give me an heir, I could not stomach romance. 

She was the only woman I had ever loved and I had prayed for years for the moon goddess to bring her back to me but my prayers had not been answered. Since then, I had given up hope and told myself to only cherish memories of her. However, those memories were painful to recall because of how it ended so I stopped visiting her grave. It was too painful for me to do so. 

"Forgive me," I whispered, plucking a rose from a nearby flower and laying it on the ground gently. "Forgive me," I whispered again. 

Agnes POV

Cyrus did not return until hours later. At first, I had been bored to death and roamed around the palace, trying to explore places of my own. I had initially considered escaping from this place but it was not worth it. We had spent two days on the road and I was sure it was not a journey I could make on my own if I intended to return home. 

From what I had speculated, there was no safer place here than the palace. The neighboring city belonged to the Southern Wolves and that zone was not human friendly. Stepping one foot in there meant I was going to die and never see my siblings again. They were the only family I wanted to return to. 

Midway into my wandering, I stumbled upon a large building that happened to be the library and I had picked up a book that told the story of how werewolves came to be. I had been so intrigued by reading about their history, culture, and ceremonies that I did not notice how much time had gone by. One thing that intrigued me the most about the wolves was how most of them had a soulmate also known as 'mates'. They were not like us humans who had to search far and wide to find the perfect match. Theirs was sent straight from their goddess which I found beautiful. 

At some point during my reading, I wished I was a werewolf.

When I looked out of the window and saw how pitch dark it was outside, that was when I came to my senses and ran back to Alpha Cyrus quarters. I exhaled in relief when I saw that he was not yet back and prepared a bath for him. 

Just as I was done, he waltzed into the room. He regarded me with emotionless eyes as he took off his shirt and I swallowed hard, looking away. 

"Has my bath been prepared?" He asked in a cold voice. 

I nodded, unable to speak for some reason. 

"Good."

I stood in the middle of the room, waiting to hear his call of complaint from the bathroom about the water either being too hot or too cold but there was none. He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, still drenched in water and a towel hanging lazily on his waist; exposing a dangerous v-line. 

He sat in front of his vanity table and after more minutes of silence, he finally broke it. "Do I have to tell you that you are meant to get me ready for bed? I need my hair toweled dry and my skincare routine prepared."

I wanted to be smart with him and tell him I was not briefed about anything here so he could not just assume what I was supposed to do but I kept quiet, seeing that he was in a bad mood. 

A part of me wanted to know what caused the sudden soreness in his mood. It was not as though he was particularly jovial before now, but there was an obvious change in his mood.

The curious part of me could not resist asking. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" He asked with a sigh. 

"Your mood—"

"Is none of your business," he snapped. "The things you need are in that drawer."

"Right," I muttered, opening the drawer. I pulled out a towel and wrapped it around his head, gently massaging his scalp and allowing the fabric to soak up the water from his hair. Then when most of it had been soaked up, I took a comb and went through the strands of hair. When that was done, I dropped the comb and wrapped his hair in another towel. 

"What next?" I asked him. 

"I feel tense, help me with a shoulder massage."

"Okay," I answered. I was not sure how to give one but I decided to try. Gingerly, I placed my fingers on his shoulders and applied a little bit of pressure, moving in a circular motion. 

He placed his hand on my shoulders suddenly and I froze. There seemed to be a strange crackle of great intensity as his hands touched mine. I looked at him through the mirror, and I could feel something strange moving in my tummy. 

There was a strange voice inside me, whispering something I could not particularly hear. It seemed as though something was blocking the voice from speaking up.

His hands traveled up my arm slowly, sending an oddly delicious feeling between my legs as he slowly brought my fingers down to his bare chest. My heart throbbed and I could feel as though there was a form of connection between the two of us. Like something was binding us.

I watched him through the mirror and as if under a spell, he stood up and faced me. Spinning me around, I found myself being carried and gently placed on the vanity table. He stood between my legs, sending heat waves through my thighs and his right thumb parted my lips slowly. His hands dropped to my neck and drew slowly as he painfully seduced circles with them. He leaned in closer, our noses rubbing each other and his lips only mere inches away from mine. His left hand was on my thigh, inching upwards very slowly.

Something within me whispered again but I could not decipher what it was saying. 

"You're human." His hot breath fanned my face. It was a statement but it seemed more like a question to me. 

"Yes," I answered shakily, wanting more. I needed to satisfy that hunger that he had awakened in me.

"And my slave..."

"As of three days ago, yes." My voice had become a breathy whisper.

"This can't be." A look of confusion appeared on his face as he looked at me. With a sigh, and in a strangled voice, Alpha Cyrus said. "I can't accept you as my mate.”