NEW BOOK NOW AVAILABLE - 172 Chapters!!!

Slave to the Wolf King is now updating daily on Webnovel! You can find it here: https://www.webnovel.com/book/slave-to-the-wolf-king_29708011308334405

Or search under the title or author name "Aimee Lynn Lane."

Here's a free sample of the opening:

1. All Hail the King

"Beware those who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves."

- Gospel of Matthew 7:15

*****

~ JESSE ~

The guards tipped us out into the room like puppies out of a bag.

I landed heavily on rough stone, scraping my knees and palms, hissing against the pain. But they'd freed my hands and ankles before they shoved me in here, so, with my heart thudding in my chest, I scrabbled to pull down the blindfold that was over my eyes and get my bearings quickly.

Dark room. Stone walls and ceiling. Warm lights. Cold air. Damp. Shadows my eyes couldn't penetrate—and more shadows behind us I wished they couldn't.

Left and right, women shrieked and sobbed, hitting the floor, some rolling, one planting face-first into the rock and laying there, unmoving.

Behind me, a cluster of guards filled the doorway, with more spreading out along the wall. They didn't carry weapons, but they didn't need to. They were all well over six foot and huge with it. Strong and rugged… feral. Brows and jaws heavy, and bodies that moved in that fiercely controlled way the wolves had that was riveting and terrifying at the same time.

So, when a low voice muttered, "Really? This is the best you could do?" and the guards shrank like they wanted to disappear through the wall, I whipped my head back around to see who was capable of scaring these monsters.

Then I couldn't breathe.

The back of the room was swathed in deep shadows so that at first it was difficult to make anything out. But as I blinked and tried to breathe, slowly he became clear, walking towards us out of the dark like an apparition manifesting out of hell itself.

He stood easily as tall as the guards, his shoulders just as broad and draped in thick fur from an open vest that fell almost to his knees. His chest was bare revealing warm-brown skin, the wide, flat planes of his pecs, and rippling abs so defined they cast their own shadows.

He stood staring down his nose imperiously at everyone in the room, one side of his upper lip pulled up in smug derision, and yet, somehow the ugly expression only emphasized the razor edge of his jaw, the full lips, and the dark hair that fell in loose waves around his face and to dust his collar at the back.

But that wasn't what made my lungs deflate.

His eyes glowed.

Incredible, stunning eyes, a blue so deep and shining it should have felt like staring into the waters of a tropical ocean. And yet those eyes were coldly cruel. Arctic waters, deep and flickering with shadows. Yet, glowing like moonlight through a sheet of ice.

Like all humans, I'd heard myths about the Wolf King and his packs—mostly the kind that were whispered at sleepovers or around a campfire. But as I watched him materialize out of the darkness, it was suddenly clear that those were not stories at all.

This man was very, very real.

Something deep and primal screamed that a predator was stalking me. Pushing to my feet, ready to run, I was forced to watch him because there was no room to move, stumbling back a step as he advanced on us, the dull, warm light that bathed half the room from lanterns on the walls finally falling on him, cutting hollows into cheeks shadowed by stubble and revealing him more clearly.

In the shadows he looked almost tribal—all leather and fur, with three necklaces at his throat.

But in the light, the perfect cut of his pants became clear, the sheen of soft, durable leather, the thick lushness of the fur around his shoulders, and intelligent disdain in those eyes that scanned each of us with such impatience…

This was no animalistic warrior.

Beast he might be, but he was a King. He exuded a fiercely masculine presence. A weight, as if the air around him was thicker. And a tingling, fascinating glimmer of power, light on the horizon that flickered in the corner of your vision, but disappeared when you turned to see it.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

And my guts trembled.

The creak of leather and rustle of heavy weights moving behind us told me the guards were all bowing, or offering some kind of acknowledgement to him. But he ignored them, instead scanning each of the women—there were eight of us—his expression growing more and more contemptuous with each passing moment.

"What the fuck is this mess?"

"They're from the poor neighborhoods, as you requested," one man, presumably the leader of the guards, offered tentatively.

Male. I had to remind myself, they called themselves males, not men.

Then the guy's words sank in and I bristled.

Indeed, they were not men. Taking women like commodities, herding them like sheep.

When I'd been thrown into their arms I'd been certain I was about to die.

Or worse.

It had taken hours of pretending to be asleep or catatonic with fear, to catch enough snippets of conversations between the guards to understand that they were wolves. And that I was one of what they called a Reaping.

That none of them would touch us, as long as we obeyed.

Not because they were honorable thieves, or had any scruples. But because we had to be untouched. Because we'd been chosen for the King.

I'd hoped I had that part wrong.

Clearly I didn't.

A snarl ripped through the room and the King bared his teeth.

The women around me cried out, or sobbed, all of them curling in on themselves, turning back and forth, shrinking from the King, but unwilling to get closer to the guards behind us, either. They turned impotent circles, shaking and crying. One even wailed like a child.

SILENCE.

I jolted as the word echoed inside my skull just as clearly as his voice had echoed in the tall chamber around us a moment earlier, an eerie thrust of power with it.

And the room obeyed.

All of it. All of us. Every one.

The noises from the terrified women stopped as if someone had muted the television.

I'd already been quiet, but I felt the conviction settle in my chest. I would not speak. My jaw clenched of its own accord, and any words on my tongue faded like smoke on the wind.

Then he looked around, those incredible eyes glittering with frustration and something I couldn't identify, and it was as if the air shifted.

Four of the women were still on hands and knees, bodies convulsing with tears, shaking with terror. Two had made it to their feet like me, but remained hunched. Cowering.

And one still lay unconscious where she'd fallen when the guards dumped her in the room.

The King shook his head slowly, then sighed, as if he carried a great weight.

"There's no need to cry. You have nothing to fear," he crooned. And then he smiled and the world tilted.

Power wafted off of him like a rich perfume, rippling as he moved and I felt myself changed.

My body thrilled.

He was King. He was male. He was everything I had ever wanted. The earth answered his voice and the sky stormed at his bidding.

Awed and breathless, everything within me ached to throw myself at his feet.

I wrestled it with the corner of my mind that understood that something was happening, something outside my control. That the thoughts suddenly clamoring in my head, admiring his beauty and strength, hadn't started in my mind.

And yet… I wanted him. Wanted to slide hands up his torso, curl fingers into his hair. I ached to hear that deep voice hushed in my ear, to feel those hands on my body.

My mind overflowed with images that stole my breath.

Images of him in the dark, our bodies entwined. Images of him in the light, standing over me and staring murder at any that would harm me. Images of him smiling, laughing, sultry and sweet, then dark and demanding, eyes glowing and breath hot—

I blinked, more terrified than I'd been even when the guards took me because while they might have forced my body, this man—this male—could control my mind?

I felt the desire to kneel before him like a hand planted between my shoulder-blades, yet no one was close enough to touch me. I shook with it, watched the woman to my right who'd made it to her feet, drop to her knees, then bow herself, face almost to the floor, as she crawled towards him, eyes shining and jaw slack.

He watched her come, tipping his head, though his expression remained blank. And then she reached a trembling hand toward the toe of his boot, her breath heaving in her chest like she was seeing the face of God.

My knees almost gave, my body wanted to give in. I wanted to tear her away from him and put myself in her place—

Please, I begged God. Please… I can't…

The King's sneer returned and he glided back a step, out of the woman's reach.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Nothing in the room had changed, and yet everything was different.

The women around me all froze, blinking, as if coming out of sleep.

I shook my head, more scared than I had ever been in my life.

That power he held… that compulsion… the intensity of it. Dear god, if he'd held that thrall a few more seconds I would have fallen to it as well.

We'd all heard the stories of his unquestioned authority, of his influence over others. But what I had just seen wasn't persuasive. It wasn't even intimidation. That was control.

He possessed others?

A cold chill prickled, like death breathing down my neck.

I looked at the women around me and saw it in their eyes… even as their minds cleared, even as they shuddered and breathed again… they'd stopped crying, stopped struggling. Even as their fear returned, something in them was drawn to him. Their eyes flicked to his face again and again, and they worried at their clothing as if they were suddenly self-conscious. A piece of that had stayed with them. A piece of them now belonged to him.

They had given in.

I began to tremble uncontrollably, my head screaming, my heart pounding so loudly it was all I could hear, drums beating in my ears.

I would not be a puppet to any man—any male—ever.

I could not lose myself to this!

When his eyes fell on me and he smiled so I could see the predator in him. I flinched.

Then he shifted his gaze to the others and I slumped.

"Now that we're all a little calmer… Welcome to the Sifting," he said, his voice low and gravelly as he scanned each of us in turn. One of the women sighed. "Before this day is done, one of you will be my mate."

He sounded like the idea made him want to vomit.

2. A B*tch in Heat

~ CASIMIR ~

I was horrified.

When I'd told Ghere to order the Reapers to find women from the poorer side of the human city, I had imagined the wicked types. The women who embraced their fate and it made them bold. Instead I'd been sent a box of poorly bred puppies suitable only for drowning?

What the actual fuck?

"God help us," one of them murmured.

I snorted.

"I assure you, God abandoned this place long ago," I drawled.

The woman looked at me, shocked. It was the one at the center who'd stayed on her feet. She'd been staring around the chamber in horror, murmuring to herself, clearly forgetting that we wolves enjoyed heightened senses.

She remembered now.

The guards laughed, but the women's eyes snapped down to her feet. She dropped her chin. Her hair, a rich mahogany brown, the kind that would spark red in sunlight, fell around her face in long waves, though it was messy and matted now.

She was a thin little thing, though there was evidence of muscle under those terribly fitting clothes.

Then—noting the tear at the neckline of her shirt—I started paying attention. Which made me scan the others and grind my teeth. The Reapers clearly hadn't been gentle.

I cursed again. None of the women were even clean. I saw torn shirts, ripped jeans, even bruises. And one of them had hit the floor and remained there, as if she were already dead.

"Who is responsible for this shitshow?" I growled to Ghere below the hearing of the humans.

The male stepped up to my side, responding in kind so they wouldn't hear us. "Khush led this foray," he muttered.

"Order ten lashes. I asked for women who'd met darkness, not poorly freighted dolls."

"Consider the restrictions, Casimir: those who are virgins at this age are likely more timid in their approach to life."

"Timid? These women are helpless." Some of them, including the one who'd stared at me, looked malnourished. I was tempted to simply send them back and tell the Reapers to try again—with more stringent instructions on who and how to select targets. "Are they even fertile?"

"Impossible to know for certain with virgins, of course. But we know they all cycle regularly," Ghere provided.

I shook my head. "Look at the bruises on that one."

"I believe some of them fought—"

"I don't give a shit, Ghere. You want me to believe the guards couldn't control these frail birds without tearing their clothes?"

The male hesitated, obviously wanting to correct me, but unwilling to risk my ire.

I rolled my eyes and gestured at him to speak—I wouldn't punish him for raising truth, if he had it. But how the fuck was I supposed to name a mate from among these pitiful creatures without walking straight into yet another failure?

But Ghere must have read my wave to proceed as the signal to begin the rite, because he stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Ladies, I know the day has been difficult, but I assure you, you are safe here. The King Himself, Casimir Augustus Klane, is here to greet and assess you. Despite our, er, unconventional beginning, I hope you understand that it is a great honor to stand here today. The King of Wolves seeks a mate. A human mate. You alone have been selected from among your kind for his consideration."

I was considering very little. If this was the best the human race had to offer, we were all in much deeper trouble than I had imagined.

"A mate?" the same woman asked quietly. "I thought… the stories said he was already mated?"

Ghere opened his mouth to reply, but I spoke first. No point avoiding the truth. "She died," I said baldly.

"May… may I ask how?" Her eyes were wary, but accusing. She was brave, this one. The others were all staring at the floor, though two of them seemed to still be at least partially in the thrall of the compulsion, because their eyes were glazed, and one was loosening a button at her throat.

I raised a brow, partly-amused, partly-impressed. "She suffered a mental breakdown and killed herself," I said with a warning smile. The woman blinked. "Being the Wolf King's mate comes with many privileges. But few humans are strong enough to live in my world. Hence, the Sifting."

Ghere leaped in then, as if he was afraid I'd give away too much. "Of course, we will provide everything you need to advance in this process. The King only wishes to identify which of you is most likely to thrive."

Thrive? These women didn't know the word existed. I stopped listening as Ghere continued to explain the process of the rite, the tests and challenges, and their role in them.

I was fast determining that this entire idea had been a poor one. These women didn't even have the physical strength to live here, let alone to keep up with me. Chances that they'd be capable of enduring the inevitable trials to come were miniscule.

The women's eyes grew wider as Ghere explained the wealth and opportunity that would be afforded to them, as well as the expectation of delivering an heir, and a second child to ensure the succession of the throne.

The two who hadn't shaken the compulsion began to shiver and stare at me with hopeful eyes.

I'd barely touched them with the power, but their minds were so weak, they were already more than half mine. It was pathetic.

"…our main concern is for your wellbeing," Ghere went on kindly. "The King's power relies on his utter domination of the packs. But especially those highest in the ranks of the hierarchy… which includes his mate. I am aware that your human society does not function similarly—but please, understand… the power you felt from Casimir when you entered was only a taste. He is the most potent ruler the wolves have enjoyed for centuries. You will not need to worry for your safety or provision. Our King is… formidable."

One of the women who'd given over to the compulsion shuddered and clutched a hand to her chest.

Holy fuck. Weak didn't cover it.

"Actually, Ghere, I think this has been a mistake," I said abruptly, interrupting him. "I don't believe my mate is here."

I began to turn away, muttering to him under their hearing. "These minds are far too weak. It's a waste of my time. We need a new pool."

"But, look, Casimir!" Ghere grabbed my sleeve, pulling me back to face them. "They're receptive, see? You've always said that a willing partner is worth more than someone who must be… urged."

It was true. I had. But only when their commitment rose from strength in themselves. Not wounded puppies who rolled over and showed their bellies to the Alpha with tails wagging.

I could see that the two women who'd never fully released from my power were beyond willing. They were already halfway in love. Which was our entire problem with these humans. This would not do.

"The position of Queen requires three things," I snapped impatiently. Let them hear the terms and reject them, then we could move on and find a new group of women. "Firstly, the ability to bear heirs. Secondly, submission to me as King and Mate. And third, acceptance that I will not offer love. Love is a sacrifice of self. My power relies on dominance. It weakens when I yield to another. I cannot offer it and remain King."

I was growing impassioned, so I stopped for a moment and took a breath, dropping my voice for the women who were all listening avidly. I met their eyes one by one until I landed on the warm-haired beauty who'd spoken up.

"My Queen will receive anything material she wishes. But she will submit to me, and I will not bow. She will share my bed, my power, and my wealth. She will not share my heart."

I'd been glaring down at them, impatient and determined. I lifted my chin and waited, but none of them spoke.

Good.

Too weak—or perhaps, strong enough only to see that they had frail hearts in desperate needs of the affirmation of a male's—

"What happens to the others?" the mahogany-haired one asked quickly. "You have eight women here. What happens to the other seven when you… when you choose?"

I smiled. "I assure you, mate or not, by the time the sifting is complete, all of you will desire to stay here with me. And if I find you appealing, I will not turn you away." Though, looking at this lot, most of them would be thrown back to their own world. I wasn't interested.

Ghere nudged me, but the two who'd already given themselves both looked ecstatic.

The one whose hair was so rich and warm frowned at the floor, her eyes flitting back and forth as if she searched her mind, her lips moving though she made no sound.

She was a strange little thing—courageous to speak to me without permission. She might be fun to break if she turned out to be strong-willed.

Ghere was dry-washing his hands, looking at each of the women in turn, clearly nervous about the direction this had taken. I wasn't sure why.

He cleared his throat. "As you've heard the King explain—"

"Are you violent?"

I turned back to the woman with a flat smile. "Show me a wolf who isn't. And I am the King of the others. What do you think?"

Her throat bobbed. The tear in the neckline of her cotton shirt offered a fleeting glimpse of plump cleavage. My cock twitched.

"I meant… I meant with women… um, Sire," she said uncertainly. "With your Queen. You said you have to dominate, that she has to submit. What is she submitting to?"

An image flashed in my head of that day just weeks ago when my second mate had killed herself. I'd had my toys, one of them by the neck.

I smirked. "I don't make a habit of leaving bruises," I said, letting a dark promise seep into my tone. "But they've been known to happen."

The woman flinched and I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I take no sexual pleasure from violence. I am a wolf, not a beast. A loyal, submitted female has no reason to fear me."

It was, perhaps, a stretching of the truth. But the woman looked relieved.

I was intrigued. Of them all, she'd shown the strongest spine when I compelled them. Not that that was any guarantee. The last two had been the strongest in their bunches as well, and look where that had gotten me.

Dark frustration washed through me again as I looked over this group of thin, dirty women and I shook my head. "Ghere, this is pointless—"

"I'll volunteer," the mahogany-haired one said quietly.

"You see," Ghere nudged my side nervously. "One offers to be sifted already. I'm sure the others will as well. There is no need to—"

"No," she said, then licked her lips and stepped forward. "I volunteer to be your mate."

3. Fascinating

~ JESSE ~

As I'd listened to the King's pompous tirade, it had become clearer and clearer to me that it was not just bad luck that I was here.

The question was, would I step out of the flames of one man's making, and straight into another? Or was this truly an opportunity for escape?

"I will be your mate… if you'll have me."

The King's eyes narrowed.

His servant's brows rose and he raised his hands. "Oh, I don't think you understood—"

"Why?" the King asked, his voice deep and skeptical. But I didn't miss the glimmer in his eyes. I'd surprised him.

I swallowed hard and prayed I'd understood all of this correctly. "I think… I know, I can give you what you want. And in exchange, you can give me what I need."

The King's brows rose then. "How very presumptuous of you. But I will take the bait: What is it that you want?"

"I propose… an exchange."

"Of what?"

"You take me as your mate and you keep me safe like you promised. Away from my world and… and anyone I knew. When I bear you an heir, you give me a house somewhere remote. Somewhere no one can find me. A couple of servants to run it and enough money to live modestly. You can have your family, and I can have solitude. And… and safety."

His eyes narrowed again. "Why would you offer yourself to this? To me, when I have not compelled you to do so?"

I hesitated, but couldn't find any reason to hide the truth. "Because you're the first man I've met with the power to free me from all the others."

The King stared at me as if I'd confused him. He tilted his head, his eyes pinning me to the floor. I was terrified he was about to unleash that power on me and steal me from myself.

I couldn't let it happen.

"I have terms, though," I blurted.

The King looked indignant—also a little amused. "You think you're in a position to set terms?"

I hurried on, praying he'd listen. "No violence. At all," I said, swallowing the pinch that was rising in my throat. "If I'm going to get pregnant, I can't be hurt. And… until I'm pregnant, you only have sex with me. No one else. You give me every chance to… to bear you the heir." The King snorted and fear jittered through me. "If you do, I'll submit. Truly. You won't have to use that… that power. I will do anything you say. I'll give myself to you. Willingly. Like… like a slave."

The room was silent except for our voices so at that word I could hear him suck in a breath. Flames flickered in his eyes—fire beneath the ice.

"Slave?" he rumbled.

I nodded, hands clenched at my sides, praying. Because it was better to humble myself than to be forced to it. I couldn't let him steal my mind. I had to keep myself. I knew if he used that awful power on me, I would lose myself completely with time.

"You said… you said your power was about dominance?"

"Yes."

"Well, surely, if someone gives themselves willingly… That must offer you more power? More than if you have to… make them?"

His face went open with shock, his brows rising as if they'd climb into his hair.

"You promise me a home after you have your heir, and that you'll never hurt me, or use that… that power on me. And I will give you everything you've asked. If I don't, well… it sounds like I'd be dead anyway."

He was still gaping, but as if he'd caught himself doing it, his eyes suddenly hooded and his mouth snapped shut. "That you would," he muttered.

I nodded. "So… what do you have to lose?"

*****

~ CASIMIR ~

It was a fascinating proposal.

The moment she'd said she'd give herself to me willingly, my cock had twitched. Then, when she named herself a slave… my power surged. Even now, it raged in my veins as if it could reach through my skin to take her.

It was impossible, and yet, it couldn't be denied. Her choice to submit sent power coursing through me.

What would it do when she actually gave over?

Without compulsion?

I'd never thought… never even considered…

Fascinating.

I had to work not to swallow like a boy at his first mating. "And if you defy me?" I asked, indulging myself, because all I wanted was to know what she'd say—and see how it affected my power.

She raised her chin. Her expression was sad. "I won't defy you. I'm sacrificing myself to you. But in the end… in the end it's your choice. If I ever say no… well, it's not like I could fight you. Or your power. I'd be trusting you to… to keep your word."

"You can't actually be considering this?" Ghere hissed at me below the humans hearing, through unmoving lips. "What about the rite?"

"The rite hasn't worked for us so far," I snarled back.

Her eyes hadn't left me.

She was too small, too thin, too wiry—though I suspected all of that would change if she was properly fed. And yet…

When our eyes locked, a jolt of desire and a correlating wave of power washed through me.

A slave. She would make herself my slave? Willingly?

"Do we have an agreement?" she asked, her voice shaking as if she were losing her courage.

"We certainly do."

Every wolf in the room gasped, but I couldn't have cared less what they thought.

I didn't take my eyes from hers—hazel eyes, I realized. Brown at the center, bleeding to a soft, gray-green at the outside of the iris. I inhaled, picking out her scent from the crowd, drinking it down.

She would be my mate.

She would be my Queen.

She would choose to be my slave.

I physically shuddered. God, I was going to come.

Without breaking eye contact with her, I snapped my fingers. "Take the others away and bring the Cleric," I muttered.

Ghere bowed stiffly, then gestured to the guards, who immediately gathered up the other women—shrieking, crying, some pleading for me.

But I barely heard them.

As the room filled with the noise of moving bodies, of guards muttered orders, and women's cries, my new mate's eyes widened.

"Cleric?" she asked hesitantly. As if she were afraid of the answer.

I frowned. "Did you think we would conceive the royal heir out of wedlock?"

***** 

Look up now, right here on Webnovel!