Betrayed by My Alpha, Bound to the King

Ayesha moved silently through the packhouse, almost like a ghost. She was quiet, obedient, and remained unseen. She kept her gaze lowered, followed every command, and nodded when spoken to. Yet, beneath that calm compliance, her mind was always active.

She secretly slipped food scraps, dried fruit, bread crusts, bits of meat, beneath her mattress, hiding them carefully. She packed gradually: an old cloak, a flask, a thin blanket, an extra shirt for Lyra, and a worn satchel. The dagger Levi had given her was small but sharp enough to kill if used correctly.

She took brief walks into the forest with Lyra, pretending to gather herbs. However, each outing involved hiding a bundle beneath the roots of the old ash tree beyond the eastern fence.

They had no fixed destination or guarantee of safety, but anywhere was preferable to here. She preferred risking encounters with wild rogues and starvation over the confines of this life. 

Out there, she and Lyra stood a chance to escape, to survive, to be free. Even the uncertainty outside seemed more humane than this imprisonment. She instructed Lyra on the steps to take when the moment was right, teaching her how to remain silent, hide effectively, and run precisely when commanded.

Ayesha was waiting for the perfect moment, a moonless night when Ronan and Luciana were distracted. Once the timing was right, they would disappear.

Yet, fate didn't wait for perfection; it suddenly shattered her plans...

A sharp, familiar scream echoed through the corridor. Ayesha's blood ran cold. The tray in her hands dropped, spilling soup onto her feet, but she paid no attention. Without hesitation, she dashed toward the source of the sound, her skirts swirling around her legs.

She recognised that cry.

"Lyra," she whispered faintly. Her niece's scared voice drew her in like a magnet.

She turned into the punishment hall and froze.

Lyra was kneeling, trembling, with her small arms wrapped around herself. A tall warrior loomed over her, belt lifted high, prepared to strike.

"NO!" Ayesha yelled. Without thinking, she hurriedly threw herself across the room, her body crashing into Lyra's at the moment the belt descended. 

The lash struck her shoulder, and pain burst through her. Yet, she stayed still. She held Lyra close, protecting her from harm, her body trembling with rage.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ayesha shouted, her teeth clenched in pain.

The warrior froze, startled, as the belt hovered in midair. 

Then the real threat appeared in the hall: Luciana. Graceful and composed, her taunting smirk made Ayesha's stomach twist. Two high-ranking daughters followed her, sneering, while a guard with an amused grin flanked her on the right.

Luciana's lips twitched into a smirk as her eyes settled on Ayesha. "Well," she said smoothly, "isn't this quite the spectacle?"

Ayesha remained still, shielding Lyra. "Why is Lyra being hit? She's-"

"She was found in the storage room," Luciana interrupted. "With a piece of dried meat. What does that tell you, omega?" 

"She was probably hungry," Ayesha responded quickly. She knew her niece well. Luciana likely set a trap for Lyra. "She probably thought it was allowed. I've taught her the rules; she knows not to steal-"

"And yet," Luciana said calmly, "she did." 

"She didn't mean to," Ayesha pleaded, aware she could not defend her niece if everyone was afraid of Luciana. No one would likely testify on her behalf. "Please, don't hurt her." 

"I beg you," Ayesha whispered, bowing her head low. She understood Luciana's intentions well, so it was wiser to submit rather than risk harm to her niece.

A tense silence settled over the room, as if it held its breath.

Finally, Luciana moved forward, her heels echoing on the cold stone floor.

"Here in this house," she stated, her voice chillingly cold, "disobedience comes with a cost."

"She violated the rules-"

"Please look into this more closely," Ayesha's voice wavered as she held Lyra closer to her chest. "I'm certain it's just a simple misunderstanding." 

Luciana looked bored. "Theft is theft. And she's the thief."

"I'll do anything," Ayesha gasped. "Anything. Just… don't hurt her."

Luciana turned to the warrior. "Hold the child." The man stepped forward.

Lyra screamed.

"NO!" Ayesha shouted, tightening her hold around the girl. "Don't touch her!"

Luciana's eyes narrowed, losing patience. "Disobedient omega," she muttered.

She moved forward, raised her hand, and slapped Ayesha across the face, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

Ayesha didn't shout or cry out. Instead, she pulled Lyra closer to her. Her cheek ached, and her vision blurred.

"Your place is at the bottom," Luciana sneered. "And if you forget that again, I'll ensure there's nothing left for you to protect." Her eyes shifted to Lyra with a threatening look.

Ayesha felt her throat tighten. She kept her body between Lyra and the threat, her mind desperately searching for an escape. Suddenly, she bowed deeply, bringing her forehead to the ground. 

"Please, I implore you. Punish me instead. Have mercy on the child. I failed to discipline her, so let me take the punishment for her."

Luciana's eyes sparkled with amusement. She seemed to relish the moment. "I see. Since you're pleading for it, then… it's you who will do it."

She turned to her guard. "Prepare the knife."

Ayesha's breath caught. Luciana slowly turned, smiling at her like a cat trapping a mouse. "We'll take one finger, as a reminder of what happens when rules are broken, whether by a child or a traitor's blood."

The warrior drew his sword. Ayesha's stomach twisted, and her instincts urged her to fight- to seize the blade, strike, or run. But she couldn't act on them yet.

Not now…

Lyra whimpered beneath her, and Ayesha remembered: this wasn't just about escaping. It was about patience, timing, and survival.

She swallowed her fury, pride, and fear, then raised her hand. "If it must be someone," she whispered hoarsely, "then let it be me."

Luciana's eyes flashed with cruel satisfaction. "How noble." She signalled. "Hold her."

Two warriors gripped Ayesha's arms.

She didn't struggle. Didn't scream. She only looked at Lyra and whispered, "Close your eyes."

The child obeyed immediately, burying her face in her knees. Ayesha looked forward again as the blade approached her hand. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, but her face stayed calm.

The blade was lifted.