The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Selene's POV

Right in front of me, lounging like a king, was Alpha Lucian. His sharp eyes were half-lidded, his lips curved in a slow, fake smile. But it wasn't him that made my stomach twist with sickness.

It was Kael.

Seated beside his brother, Kael had a half-naked woman curled up on his lap—a beautiful blonde who looked drunk on pleasure and wine. His hand was gripping her lower body tightly, and her chest was exposed, pressed against his face while he… latched onto her like a starving animal.

She moaned softly, her fingers tangled in his hair, her hips squirming as if begging for more.

I couldn't move. Then Kael's cold grey eyes met mine. My blood ran cold.

I looked down instantly, my entire body stiff with shame and fear. Why did I look? Why did I come here?

I should have run.

Before I could gather myself, a hand gripped my wrist and yanked me forward. I lost balance and fell again, this time at the feet of Lucian.

He leaned forward, smile never leaving his face. "Don't mind the rudeness," he said softly. "My brother prefers things raw."

My heart hammered.

"But you don't need to worry," he continued in that same gentle tone, brushing a strand of my hair back as if he were kind. "He's busy tonight… so while you're here, why don't you serve me some wine?"

I didn't move.

His voice was calm, pleasant even. But every word he spoke crawled like poison under my skin. I didn't believe a single one. That smile of his—it wasn't kindness. It was his psycho nature.

Lucian might dress like a gentleman. He might use soft words and never raise his voice. But I knew better.

This was the same man who had smiled while gripping my arm and marking me as a slave. That moment was burned into my memory. The tight grip, the cold eyes behind a warm smile. The fear I felt then had never left me.

And now, here I was, kneeling at his feet, afraid to even breathe wrong.

When I didn't respond, Lucian's fingers brushed against my chin, lightly nudging me again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to gather the strength to move, but before I could do anything, a harsh, mocking voice rang out from behind me.

"Alpha Lucian, it seems your slave isn't trained. Took her a whole century just to pour you wine."

Laughter followed.

Lucian chuckled, still wearing his mask of patience. "She's still new," he replied smoothly. "She's learning… slowly."

The man who had spoken is a wolf with a sharp jaw and eyes full of wickedness, he snorted. A woman was sprawled lazily across his lap, his hand roaming her body without care.

"Send her to me, I'll train her in a single night," he said, chuckling as he took another drink.

Disgust hit me like a wave.

I couldn't bear to look. I turned toward the small table beside Lucian, my hands shaking as I reached for the wine bottle. My fingers barely managed to lift it. I focused only on the task. Pour. Don't spill. Don't shake. Don't draw attention.

The glass trembled slightly as I filled it.

My eyes remained downcast, my mind screaming to run, but my body… frozen in fear.

In a room full of monsters wearing silk and smiles, I realized I was completely alone. I took a careful breath, trying to keep my hands steady as I approached Lucien with the glass. My fingers trembled slightly from the weight of a hundred eyes burning into my back.

"Your drink… Alpha Lucien," I murmured, eyes lowered as I extended the glass.

But just as he reached out, the man seated on his left nudged him — whether by accident or intent, I didn't know. The glass slipped from my hand. A sharp gasp caught in my throat as the drink spilled straight onto Lucien's pants.

Laughter erupted around the table instantly.

A smirk curved the lips of the man who caused it. "What a clumsy little slave," he sneered. "Why don't you help the Alpha clean it… or is this how you serve him now?"

I could feel my face heating, not from embarrassment, but from fury, it was deep, twisting, helpless fury inside me as i looked at his smug face. My fingers curled into fists, nails digging painfully into my palms. I knew what this was. They had brought me here not to serve, but to be humiliated. 

But I wouldn't give them that satisfaction. That's what they wanted ...for me to lash out, cry, collapse. I wouldn't. I'd behave as if none of this mattered. Maybe then they'd get bored of their sick games.

I reached for the napkins on the table, keeping my head down, willing my shaking hands to remain still. I leaned forward slightly, bringing the tissue to his pants, just trying to wipe the mess and move on...

But that same man, the one who smirked, snatched the napkin right out of my hand.

"Not like that," he said with a cruel glint in his eyes. "Lick it clean. Just like the little slave you are."

My breath caught in my throat. What…?

My head shot up, eyes wide. Had I heard him right? He couldn't be serious. My stomach turned violently, bile rising to my throat at the very thought.

Lucien sat there, as if the moment didn't even concern him. No anger. No defense. His face was unreadable and emotionless but his amusement was clear in his slightly raised brow. Worse, he shifted his legs apart slightly… as if to make it easier for me to reach the damp spot on his thigh.

What kind of twisted fantasy is this? I felt sick. my thoughts spinning, the pressure in my skull growing.

"No…" I whispered, my legs moving on their own, just a single small step back. An unconscious refusal. My body simply rejected the command, even if my mouth couldn't.

"Refusing me?" the man growled, his voice filled with rage.

Before I could even react, he moved behind me, a hand wrapping around my neck and squeezing. My knees buckled instantly as my breath was cut off. I let out a choked scream, struggling under his grip.

His sick delight lit up his face as he shoved my head downward, right toward Lucien's thigh.

"Go on then, bitch," he spat. "Start licking."