Sold

Six days had passed since the ceremony and there was total silence from Draco. Dahlia carried on with her life as usual but the fear of what would come next was like a dark cloud looming over her head.

Every knock on her door, the sound of carriages outside, or music playing in the halls made her more paranoid as the days passed.

She slept with a dagger underneath her pillow in case anything went wrong and she needed to save herself but nothing happened, there was radio silence from her brother.

The days went by like clockwork until finally, on the seventh day, she was summoned to the king's quarters.

Her judgment day had arrived.

As usual, the servants she walked by gave her a slight bow and a look of pity. Just like her, they all suspected what Draco would decide to do with her now that he was the Alpha, but they could do nothing to save her from the devil's clutches.

Dahlia opened the doors and saw Draco sitting on the throne. The room was empty with just the two of them left to talk.

"I'm sure you know why I called for you." Draco started, "It's time for you to go to where you belong."

"And where would that be?" Dhalia asked, trying to mask the panic in her voice.

"Zrika. This kingdom no longer needs you so I'll be sending you off to the Zrika kingdom... as a slave."

Dahlia's heart dropped after hearing the words come out of Draco's mouth. She had already prepared herself for anything, especially being sold as a slave but not once did she think her brother's wickedness would prompt him to sell her to Zrika of all places.

"Zrika? Why Zrika of all places?" Dahlia asked, not caring about the fact that she was questioning the alpha.

"Why wouldn't I send you there? Zrika is a wonderful kingdom, I'm sure you'll love it there." Draco laughed.

Dahlia felt like wiping the smug look off Draco's face and kicking him off the throne for his unwanted sarcasm.

The kingdom of Zrika is known for its brutality and an alpha who bears intense hatred for the other packs, most especially Kayer, and yet her brother was willingly sending her there.

As if making her a slave wasn't enough, he wanted her to be a slave for a kingdom that hates their people, a kingdom that calls them witches.

"Why do you hate me this much Draco? What have I ever done to make you want to do this to me?" Dahlia finally asked the question that had been on her mind for years.

"I have no reason to hate you. Your existence just makes me sick and irritated." Draco spoke with no remorse.

He looked like a complete stranger and not the young boy who used to follow her everywhere and look up to her. Everything just changed overnight and Draco started showing hatred for her with no apparent reason and that crushed her.

"You never used to be like this. What happened to you Draco? I'm still your sister- your flesh and blood." Dahlia finally started spilling what had been on her mind for as long as she could remember.

"Don't call yourself my sister ever again, you lost that right years ago. You are dead to me Dahlia and the sooner you accept it the better." Draco's cold stare intensified as he spoke, "The arrangements have been made and you'll leave by sundown, go prepare yourself."

It was finally clear to Dahlia that there was no hope of Draco ever changing, he had already made his decision and she had to deal with it. 

With a heavy heart, she gave him one last bow and walked out of the room. The intensity of the pain she felt was incomparable. Her feet felt heavy as she made her way back to her room. 

There was an unspoken sadness oozing out of everyone she walked by. It was as if they were all mourning but yet again, nothing could be done about it.

Her time of being in the Kayer kingdom was over.

Dahlia looked out the window to the garden where she spent most of her childhood playing. She would always be found reading a book underneath the large tree in the center, her favorite place to be.

Her once happy place now looked sad and distant, she couldn't even remember the last time she stepped foot in the garden she loved so much. A lot had changed but she was still stuck living in the past, afraid of facing reality.

It was an hour left till sundown. Twenty years of her life were spent in that castle and she was being kicked out with only an hour left to say goodbye to the place she grew up in.

No matter how attached she was to the castle, the truth of the matter was that she didn't live her best life there. Alas, a house isn't a home.

On her bed was a sackcloth placed there by one of the servants. It was a regular brown dress made of sack, a maid's dress, and a sandal made of straws.

Of course, her status had changed, she was no longer royalty but a slave and had to dress as one. 

A common story that Dahlia read about was a rags-to-riches story but now she was living the same story but in an opposite way. No matter how hard she looked at the situation, Dahlia couldn't even call her story riches-to-rags because there were no riches she enjoyed, just pain and sadness. Since the death of her parents, she was living like a slave but now, she officially had the title of one.

Her story remained the same, from rags to rags.

Dahlia removed all the jewelry from her body, the pearls on her hair, and the long blue dress she was wearing and neatly returned them to their rightful spots. She put on the sack dress and the straw sandal before braiding her hair in a simple style.

By the time she was done, the sun was down and it was time to leave.

Dahlia gave her childhood room one last look before walking out. There was nothing dear to her there, nothing she wanted to carry with her as a keepsake, and nothing she wanted to remind her of where she was coming from.

She left there empty-handed, ready to start afresh even if it meant she would do so as a slave.