Fated and Chained to the Beastly Alpha King

CALYRA VEYNE Calyra huddled and crawled down the altar towards her mother's body, with pain torturing her heart, with tears blurring her vision and bile hurting her throat; she couldn't reach her when the sentinels of the moonspire started dragging her body, and her blood painted the marble floor red. "No!!!" Calyra screamed when she finally gained her voice, but her throat was locked with an ironclad collar. Therion looked down at her. "What will a High King do with a Dark Flame? I am cursed; why don't you stay so far away from me?" Calyra gritted her teeth with utmost rage, but Therion merely looked down at her with amusement. "You are a special one..." He said as he trailed his fingers through her auburn hair, "Pretty, pure... It's been a long time since my beast have been fed a good meal. You will do just fine." He said mockingly with a perverted smirk, and Calyra scoffed. "High King Varos is not your beast. He is the king you can never be... You pathetic usurper." Calyra spat with burning rage within her. She undoubtedly struck a nerve on Therion, as his eyes burnt golden with a barely restrained rage; he thought all history books that talked about Varos as a king had been banned and burnt down, but a daughter of a coastal Alpha had been secretly reading books written by Varos' secret loyalist and propagandists. "Little princess, so you are one of the propagandists?" Varos bent lower, closer to Calyra, his breath hot against her face, which terrified her to death. She knew nothing about this century-old history; she didn't even know enough about Varos, but she reckoned his name would pull a hair off Therion's skin, and it did more than that. "The Varos that you dearly so revered, a century-old buried beast, he will feast on you tonight." Therion smirked with a vicious smile. "Seize her!" He growled, and the delta guards sprinted toward her and shackled her legs and hands and dragged her by the collar around her neck like an animal. She was thrown into an iron cage-like carriage and transported to the Haralth Tower. The memories of her mother continued to punish her: the screams, the panic, how her father had stabbed her. She wished that monster had never been her father; she would make him suffer the most excruciating pain imaginable. Calyra sobbed throughout the journey in the freezing cold and blamed herself for her mother's death; if she was a moon flame, if she wasn't cursed as a dark flame, Lysa would still be alive. She could see the giant gate of the Haralth tower opened, and she knew her life had moved from fire to lava. She couldn't bear giving in just like that without having a fight. As the cage was opened by one of the Delta guards, Calyra sprinted forward, and the Delta guards stoned her with his sword sheath, and she tumbled down the rough floor whilst she yelped in pain; her private core still hurts like crazy between her thighs, and the other Delta guards laughed mockingly. "Where do you think you are going, wench?" A resounding slap came across her face from the guard; she was too stunned by the sound that rang in her head. Soon another delta came from a distance: "Alpha Therion wants her in the Nine Courts hall now." Calyra was pushed into the chandeliers' lit, majestic throne room, with nine mighty stone pillars forming a circle, each with a throne present for these Alphas, in total debauchery indulgence. With throngs of female sex slaves around their bodies, some of the Alphas were filling their monstrous-looking cocks into the mouths of the females as they gagged; she noticed some of these slaves had their teeth all pulled out, with only gums in their mouths thrusting around their mighty phalluses just to improve their pleasure and experience. They were something lower than a sex slave; they were sex objects. The moment she entered the room, their gazes all washed upon her; one of the Alphas removed his long and thick cock and started masturbating whilst he fixed his gaze on Calyra. Calyra immediately turned her gaze towards Therion, whose high throne was right in the middle; a slave was on her knees gagging on his phallus as he drank from his glass wine goblet. "What do you want with me?" Calyra growled, and one of the Alphas stood up and walked up to her, hurling a resounding slap on her cheek, and she immediately tried to turn to him, and another resounding slap came across her left cheek; she was temporarily blinded as tears welled in her vision. "When will you realise you don't talk when you haven't been spoken to; fucking Dark Flame?" The Alpha said as he kicked her rib till she fell to the floor and her nose started to bleed. "Enough, Alpha Gomer. What will you want with her?" Calyra heard Therion's voice call whilst her body writhed in pain. "I want to taste the heat between her thighs, the warmth of her cunt before she's tossed to the beast dungeon," Alpha Gomer growled, his voice thick with craving. "You have my permission..." Calyra heard Therion say with a smirk, and her heart dropped as her gaze was fixed at him; she saw the glint of satisfaction, and then he added, "All of you can have her," he added, not breaking eye contact. Calyra's heart dropped when about five of the Alphas approached her. Calyra was afraid, very afraid. What strength does she have against Alphas? Five Alphas of the Nine Courts, for that matter; she couldn't fight back. Alpha Gomer crouched behind her and forced apart her squeezed thighs. She couldn't move. Hands held her down. Fingers explored her naked flesh. Her heart was beating like a drum-as tears poured from her eyes like rain, no matter how hard she tried not to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Gomer's other hand slid down between her open thighs, and he slipped a single finger into her sheath-still raw, still bleeding from the wound of disflowering. Pain wracked her being. He swirled the finger inside her tightness, thrusting it slowly as he stroked himself with his long phallus as he grinned at her with a depraved smirk. "Is she tight?" another Alpha asked with a deadpan smirk. "Very tight. And warm. And wet, Alpha Padain," Gomer said approvingly, sinking his finger deeper into her. Calyra cried bitterly. Their hands were everywhere, violating every part of her exposed flesh. One finger was still forcing its way in. Another cupped her breast, causing all sorts of dirty, sullying pain. She kept shifting, flinching, seeking relief-but her skin met only slaps and smacks in return. "Stay still!" snapped the uneasy Alpha Padain. Calyra was utterly repulsed. They were like vultures, devouring her dead body. In that moment, she wished she were dead. "We have the Beast ready for the game." A servant came to report to Therion, and then he raised his hands, and their ravaging hands seized from Calyra's body. "To the game..." Therion said, and they howled in excitement, tossing her to the ground like she was a rag; she truly felt like one. She lay there, unmoving, as the Alphas marched out-laughing, snarling-heading toward whatever fresh horror awaited at the "game". Calyra stared after them, dazed, and wondered: what cruelty could possibly top what they'd already done to her?