Chapter 14 Selected Slaves

**Valerie**
My scream was muffled into whimpers under his palm as the iron muscles around my waist tightened, making it even hard to breathe.
I struggled frantically, trying to get away from his grasp. But any attempt to win more spaces was in vain, he could impede my moves with very little efforts.
“Don’t move.” He warned with a manly voice.
I was stunned by the fear of his strength as I sensed the vibration of his chest when he spoke.
Then he adjust the position slightly and his hairy arm brushed over my cheek. The likely feeling of being touched by a real beast gave me goosebumps.
“Close your eyes.” He commanded.
Taking a last glance at our shadow under the gloomy moonlight before my compliance, I found this man was virtually giant with my figure being completely covered in his shape.
He could literally break my neck within snap of a finger.
Then he turned around abruptly, forcing me to follow his motion. I wobbled with no expectations of the sudden move before accidentally treading on his foot.
My heart was racing out of horror and I did want to apologize. But I couldn’t let out anything but muffled moans.
“Em…”
He tightened the grip of my waist to hold me up slight like clasping a naughty kid on the way home who didn’t want to leave an amusement park. His hot steady breath hit my ear rhythmically with the motions, sending goosebumps to the skin.
I wasn’t sure where he was going to take me to.
To my surprise, he didn’t walk far. After only a few seconds, he put one down near the doorway and released the strength on my waist.
But the hand was still on my mouth.
As he leant forward to give me a whisper, his deep rough voice made my heart flinch.
“Don’t turn around.”
I gulped and complied obediently.
“Go back to your room.” He commanded.
With a light push on my back, the strong hand on my mouth was relieved.
I stumbled forward.
Then I heard the sound of door closing behind me.
Not even daring to stay for one more second, I rushed back to my room, no longer caring making any sounds that might annoyed Mrs. Manson.
I was pretty sure the man holding me against him was neither the Alpha nor Mr. Lang. He was indeed much brawnier than any male creatures I had ever come up with, as my body couldn’t even move an inch within his grip.
Who was he?
Why would he be there?
And the conversation between those two sneaking servants.
What were they looking for? What’s the thing they claimed could destroy the Red Moon Pack?
My head was crammed with so many questions that I was unable to think anymore. With exhaustion and fatigue, I finally drifted off.
When my eyes opened the next morning, I realized I was in big trouble. The sun had already been shining brightly outside the window so obviously, I missed the wake-up call late for morning gathering.
I rushed downstairs in such a hurry that I hadn’t even got my hair braid properly. I was prepared for being scoffed and punished with excessive tasks by Mrs. Manson.
To my surprise, a familiar yell from Mrs. Manson didn’t come up. Walking down the staircase, I found all slaves and servants were standing in lines, bowing their head down to someone in front of them. I couldn’t see whom they were addressing to through the lineup but I unconsciously slowed my steps sensing an air of tension.
“Quick Val!” Someone called me in a hushed voice.
I saw Samantha was standing in the last row, tilting her head and signaling me to join with her.
Before I nodded, another one shouted out my name loudly.
“Valerie Davis!”
Evidently, it was Mrs. Manson.
I rolled my eyes in disappointment and exchanging a bitter smile with Samantha before replying reluctantly, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Manson.”
“You’re very late today! Come to the front!” She snapped with fury.
“Yes, Mrs. Manson.”
I stepped straight to the front row, bypassing Samantha and Benjamin, each of whom gave me a thoughtful and worried glance before lowering their heads back down.
I stopped at the far right of the first row. In front of me was the serious-looking Mrs. Manson who’s now scowling at me. But the fearful tension hanging over the lineup wasn’t caused by her. It was, for I had finally realized, from the presence of the man sitting on a vintage couch next to her.
He had a giant figure and a well build-up body. His long legs stretched out casually before the couch and his shoulders leaning against it was broad enough to almost cover the seatback. He propped his right elbow on the armrest, fingers resting on his sharp jaw.
He had slightly curly hairs in a rare shade of crimson, which would fit better for a popular school stud. But he had nothing resembling a cute boy. The front two buttons on his black shirt were carelessly loosened, revealing a trace of the horrible tattoo on his bulky chest in shape of some creatures’ claws. His face was handsome but expressionless.
My feet were glued to the ground and my heart stopped heating when he shot an icy apathetic glance at me with that inscrutable look.
“Don’t you dare being impolite to Mr. Drakos!” Mrs. Manson scoffed at me.
I dropped my head quickly before my stunned expression being caught by her.
Mr. Drakos. The third master.
How could he be here?
“Mr. Drakos. I’m terribly sorry for the rudeness of this slave! I’ll give her a lesson for sure.” Mr. Manson said in a new and rather flattery tone, before she nervously put forward the question, “It’s our honor to have you here, Master. B…but, may I ask what brought you here today?”
The man tapped the armrest with the tip of his finger in a frustrating rhythm, almost like counting down to declaring our death, before speaking, “The celebration will be holding here in four days. I heard we’re in short of proper staffs.”
“Uh…y…yes..” Mrs. Manson stammered. As though the man’s reply was utterly out of her anticipations, she sounded being freaked out. Steadying her voice hastily, Mrs. Manson continued, “But that would cause any problems, Mr. Drakos. We’ve reported the conditions to Alpha Xavier. It could be kindly sorted out by selecting a few best-performing slaves.”
“Slaves?”
“Y…yes. Two or three slaves would be sufficient to resolve the shortage, Mr. Drakos.” She hesitated before carrying on, “Actually, Scot and I have discussed on it yesterday and we selected a few to get trained further in the coming days.”
The man didn’t reply anything to Mrs. Manson’s speech.
All of the servants and slaves tensed up in this prolonged silence. I raised my head slightly, trying to steal a glance of the man. But our unexpectedly eyes locked together as he as he skimmed us all.
My heart almost stopped beating and I quickly ducked my head.
“Who are selected?” He asked.
“Err…I…I…,” Mrs. Manson seemed to be at a lost.
“Any problems?” The man sounded impatient this time.
“O…oh… a…absolutely not.” Mrs. Manson quickly replied with a stuttered voice, as if she spoke it too hastily to get the words pronounced properly.
“We’ve only picked two for now, Mr. Drakos. A boy called Benjamin Samuelson and a girl, Clair Jones. They did the best in their daily works and we believe they could perform reasonably better after proper training.” She stated.
The man suddenly stopped tapping the armrest. A shadow was casted over us as he leant forward and stood up from the couch.
He strolled back and forth in front of us in his leather shoes. Every time he stomped a step on the floor, my heart would flinch in fear.
“How about this one?” He asked.
“This one?” Mrs. Manson blurted out in a disbelief, “Mr. Drakos, did you mean this girl? I’m afraid she would too stupid and ignorant to take the job.”
“Is she so?” The man sneered, as those well-polished black shoes came into my vision.
Suddenly, he stopped right in front of me.
Before I came to the realization that they were actually talking about me, the man had already restrained my movements. He cupped my jaw tightly in his hand, pulling me closer and forcing me to behold him. Without any preparations, I stared into his eyes.
Those emotionless eyes were like permafrost that would never be melted by any of the heat sources on the earth’s surface.
His grip was so tight that I couldn’t help whimpering out of pain. I seized his arm with both hands trying to steady myself and ease the dreadful feelings.
“M…Mr. Drakos” I managed to called his name, wanting to plea.
“Don’t move.” He frowned discontentedly.
I widened my eyes and stopped struggling, looking at his face dumbly.
Until this moment, I was finally sure who he was.
He was the same stranger I encounter with on the terrace last night.
“She’s lively,” his lip corner curled as he made the comment, “put her on the list.”
“M…Mr. Drakos, I’m afraid Valerie isn’t a good choice at all, she’s—” Mrs. Manson replied hurriedly.
“I don’t want to repeat myself, Mrs. Manson.” The man cut her off abruptly and said with a severe voice.
Mrs. Manson nearly fell onto the ground as he shot a ruthlessly daunting glare at her.
“She’s selected.” He stated in full dominance and authority, as if uttering one final nail in my coffin.