The V'rek King Human mate

Lena's Point of View

“Wake up!”

A loud voice echoed in my ears, followed by a harsh bang against the metal cage. Slowly, I opened my eyes to the sound of the cell door creaking open. A V’rek soldier stormed inside, grabbing people from their sleep. There were about twelve of us crammed into the cell.

Some prisoners stumbled as they were dragged from the floor, but the soldier didn’t care. Instead of helping them to their feet, he struck them with his electric whip.

Hurriedly, I stood up and got in line, making my way toward the door to avoid the same fate. This had become our daily routine, though some still hadn’t adjusted—probably the newer slaves who had just been brought in.

I had been sold to the V’rek a few months ago, handed over by my uncle and his wife in place of their daughter. I wasn’t hurt by it. In fact, I felt relieved. My life with them had been a nightmare. It was almost a blessing to be enslaved by the V’rek rather than continue living with those I once called family. On Earth, it has become law that each household must give one person as a slave to the V’rek every year. It didn’t matter whether it was a son, daughter, father, or mother.

My parents had died in the war against the V’rek, leaving me in the care of my uncle and his wife. But my life with them had been no better—if anything, it was worse. Being a labor slave for the V’rek wasn’t ideal, but at least I no longer had to deal with Sara and her mother’s constant torment.

After the V’rek conquered Earth three years ago, humanity became their slaves. Anyone who dared to defy or challenge them faced a miserable death. The V’rek would chop up the bodies of those who rebelled and hang their heads on the towers of their palace for all to see. They even recorded it and broadcasted it to every device as a grim warning of who would be next.

Since then, humans have been nothing more than playthings to them—killed, used or raped however the V’rek pleased.

I shuffled out of the cell, joining the line that had already formed. It was a long, seemingly endless line of weary bodies, each one a shadow of the person they once were. The narrow dungeon hallway was dimly lit by a few weak lamps mounted on the stone walls. The light wasn’t nearly enough to see clearly, but the eerie glow of the sigils on the V'rek’s silver skin provided additional illumination, casting a ghostly shimmer over everything. I kept my head down, careful not to meet their eyes. This was how I had survived so far—keeping to myself, doing whatever task was demanded, and staying out of trouble.

We were prisoners in the dungeons beneath the V’rek king’s magnificent castle. None of us had ever set foot inside the actual castle, save for a lucky few who were selected to work within its gleaming walls. Those slaves were treated better than the rest of us. They didn’t sleep in the suffocating darkness of the dungeons or subsist on the sour scraps of food that barely kept us alive. Instead, they had cleaner quarters, better food, and a fleeting glimpse of the outside world.

“Move it!” A V’rek soldier bellowed from the front of the line, his voice like gravel grinding against stone.

Without hesitation, the people at the front of the line started moving, the rest of us shuffling along behind them. When we emerged from the suffocating shadows of the dungeon into the blinding brightness of the day, the sunlight hit us like a slap. We all instinctively raised our arms to shield our faces, unaccustomed to the intensity of the light. After so long in the darkness, it felt like the sun was trying to pierce straight through our skulls. I squinted, trying to adjust, but it wasn’t easy. You can’t blame anyone for being sensitive to the sun after living in the dark for so long.

“Keep moving!” another V'rek soldier barked from behind, his voice sharp and cruel. I didn’t turn around to look, but I heard the sound of heavy boots approaching, followed by a loud scream.

The noise forced me to glance back. One of the V’rek soldiers had cornered a man at the back of the line and was beating him mercilessly. The man was on his knees, sobbing, pleading for mercy, but the V’rek was relentless. His massive foot—only three thick toes with sharp, black nails—stomped down on the man’s body. The V’rek’s nails were as sharp as blades, and with a sickening crunch, one of them pierced the man’s skull. When he lifted his foot, the nail dragged a part of the man’s brain with it, blood and gray matter dripping onto the ground.

“Fucking human brain,” the V’rek hissed, spitting on the man’s lifeless body before kicking him aside. “Pathetic.”

It was a brutal, revolting sight, but hardly new to any of us. We had seen worse, and we would see worse still. Death was a part of our existence now, an ever-present shadow that followed us everywhere. No matter how many people were slaughtered, the rest of us kept moving, numb to the horror because stopping meant dying.

As we walked, I realized we weren’t heading to the fields where we were usually taken to work. The familiar path was nowhere in sight. Instead, the towering silhouette of the V’rek king’s castle loomed before us, it's dark spires stabbing into the bright sky.

“Can’t you move faster?” one of the V'rek soldiers yelled, his electric whip cracking in the air. The people behind me stumbled, tripping over each other, and fell forward, knocking into me. The line shattered into chaos as people scrambled to get up, but the V’rek soldiers showed no mercy. The one closest to me swung his whip, lashing us with ruthless efficiency.

When the electric whip struck my back, pain shot through me like lightning. I felt my entire body convulse, every nerve ending igniting in agony. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but a whimper escaped before I could stop it. The sting of the whip burned through my skin, and I knew there would be marks later—if I lived long enough to care about them.

“Get up, you pathetic humans!” a V'rek snarled, his face so close that I could feel his hot, rancid breath on my skin. His saliva sprayed my face as he shouted, his voice thick with disgust.

Slowly, I lifted my head and glared at his twisted, hideous face. His features were deformed in a way that matched the cruelty in his heart. For a moment, my fists clenched in rage. If I had a weapon in my hand, I would have gladly slit his throat and watched the blood of his kind spill onto the ground.

“What are you staring at, human?” he growled. His voice carried the threat of more violence, and I quickly lowered my gaze, not wanting to provoke him further. I was already in pain, and I knew better than to challenge them. They were too many, too strong, and I was just one human among many.

“Nothing,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

“Get your sorry ass up. You look too disgusting for my cock to fuck even if I wanted to,” he sneered, and the other soldiers burst into laughter, their cruel amusement echoing around us.

I didn’t react. There was nothing funny about their crude insults, and I had learned long ago that fighting back only made things worse. I stood up slowly, my body aching, and forced myself to keep moving. They would lose interest in me soon enough, I hoped.

“Move it!” the V'rek soldier barked again. Those who had fallen scrambled back to their feet, and we resumed our slow march toward the castle.

It took us nearly forty minutes to reach the imposing gates of the V'rek king’s castle. The massive structure loomed above us, casting a long shadow that seemed to stretch for miles. As soon as we arrived, they separated the men from the women, herding the men to the side while leading the women inside.

The gates creaked open as the V'rek soldiers shoved us forward, their laughter ringing in the air like the twisted chime of death. I kept my head down, even though my instincts screamed at me to look around. I had never been this close to the V’rek king’s castle. I had only seen it from a distance, it's dark spires always looming like the shadow of a predator watching us all from above.

Inside, the contrast was striking. The darkness and filth of the dungeon seemed like a distant nightmare compared to the polished floors beneath our feet. Everything shimmered, as if made from some kind of metal that absorbed and reflected the dim light that filtered in through the narrow windows high above. Intricate carvings of symbols and figures I didn’t recognize lined the walls, and though beautiful, there was something ominous about them.

A sense of dread weighed down on me the further we were led inside. The air here was stifling, thick with the scent of something metallic—blood, perhaps. My skin crawled with every step, but I forced myself to keep my gaze down, ignoring the elaborate decor that would never belong to people like me.

Then we stopped at another huge metal gate but this one was made with rear gold. The gate snapped out and we were herded into what seemed like a vast chamber, the first thing that hit me was the sheer silence. It pressed down on us, thick and heavy, as though the very walls demanded our submission but despite all it was more shining and elegant than the rest path we have passed through.

The V'rek guards were quiet now, their jovial brutality replaced by cold, rigid discipline. They guided us to stand in different single lines and I was placed at the front as soon as they were done. I slowly lifted my head to glance at where we were when I saw him…the V'rek king.

I had heard rumors about him—whispers in the dark dungeon that painted him as more than just a ruthless ruler. Some said he was the embodiment of their god, the most powerful of their kind, while others believed he was something even worse. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me before I even fully took him in. His eyes, dark and cold, seemed to pierce through flesh and bone, and his posture was that of a predator—relaxed, but ready to strike at any moment.

He sat on a throne of black metal that gleamed like oil under dim light, towering over the room and over us like a mountain of death. The V’rek king’s skin was unlike the others; his silver hue was darker, marred by ancient markings that glowed faintly. His long, clawed fingers tapped the arm of his throne, the only sound in the room.

“I want her,” he said, pointing a finger at me.