Sold To The Demon Alpha

Late, Hungry and Utter Humiliation

I stared at it, not understanding at first. It wasn’t there in the morning when i check.

Then it suddenly dawned on me.

Someone had been in my room, taken my dress, and destroyed it.

I was still staring at it when the first howls began echoing across the pack grounds, calling everyone to the white moon celebration

"No. No, no, no."

I panicked, holding the dress with trembling hands, staring at the dark stain that spread across the bodice like a wound. My mother's dress. The only beautiful thing I owned in this world, and someone had destroyed it.

But I knew who. Of course I knew who.

Clara.

My cousin. My tormentor. The golden girl who had everything I'd ever wanted and still found ways to take more. She was the only one who knew about this dress, the only one I'd been stupid enough to trust with my secret. Last month, when she'd caught me trying it on in the laundry room, her eyes had gone cold with want.

"That should be mine," she'd said, fingering the delicate fabric. "You don't deserve something so fine."

I'd tried to explain that it was my mother's, that it was all I had left of her. But Clara had just laughed.

"Your mother's dead. What does she need with party dresses?"

Her own mother, my aunt, had promised Clara something even better for her eighteenth birthday. A dress made of silk and pearls, fit for a future Luna. But apparently that hadn't been enough. Clara wanted this too, just because it was mine.

My hands shook as I gathered the ruined dress against my chest. There had to be a way to fix it. There had to be.

I ran down the narrow hallway to the cleaning room, my bare feet slapping against the cold stone. The space was cramped and dark, filled with buckets and brushes and bottles of harsh-smelling soap. I grabbed what I needed: vinegar, dish soap, a basin for warm water.

The stain was old, probably hours old by now. Yet I scrubbed until my knuckles were raw. The fabric was delicate, meant for gentle handling, but I had no choice. I worked the soap into the stain, watching brown water swirl down the drain. Some of it came out. Not all, but some.

By the time I finished, the moon was almost up. Through the small window, I could hear music and laughter drifting from the celebration grounds. The white moon party was already half over, and I was still here in my torn work dress, smelling of vinegar and desperation.

I held up the dress to the fading light. The stain was mostly gone, you'd have to look close to see it now. It would have to do. It wasn't like I had anything else.

I changed quickly, my fingers fumbling with the delicate buttons. The dress fit perfectly, just as I'd known it would. I'd spent weeks adjusting it to my smaller frame, taking it in at the waist, hemming the skirt. In the dim light of my room, I almost looked beautiful.

I brushed my dark hair until it gleamed, pinching my pale cheeks to bring some color to them. This was it. My eighteenth birthday. The night I'd dreamed about for months.

The celebration was in full swing when I finally emerged from the pack house. Lanterns hung from the trees, casting everything in warm, golden light. The smell of grilled meat and fresh bread made my stomach clench with hunger. I'd been so focused on the dress that I'd forgotten to eat lunch, and breakfast had been nothing but kitchen scraps.

I stood at the edge of the crowd, watching. Everyone looked so happy, so carefree. They danced and laughed and raised their glasses to the white moon hanging fat and bright above us. I felt like a ghost haunting my own celebration.

The buffet table stretched along one side of the clearing, loaded with more food than I'd seen in months. Roasted lamb and honey cakes and wheels of cheese that probably cost more than I'd make in a year. My mouth watered just looking at it.

I made my way over, trying to be invisible. Maybe if I was quiet enough, quick enough, no one would notice me taking a plate. I was pack, after all. Technically, I had every right to be here.

I picked up a plate and started filling it, my hands shaking slightly. A slice of lamb, still pink in the middle. A chunk of fresh bread. Some of those honey cakes that smelled like heaven.

"...and now, to celebrate our young adults who join us as full pack members tonight..."

The MC's voice boomed across the clearing, but I was too focused on the food to listen properly. When had I last had meat that wasn't gristle and fat? When had I last tasted something sweet?

I reached for another honey cake and froze. The talking had stopped. The music had stopped. Everything had stopped, and in the sudden silence, I could feel eyes on me. Hundreds of eyes.

I turned slowly, still clutching my plate. A path had formed through the crowd, leading from where I stood straight to the center of the celebration. Everyone was staring at me with expressions I couldn't read. Some looked curious. Some looked disgusted. A few looked almost afraid.

"Did someone call me?" I asked though no one answered.

The plate slipped from my numb fingers, shattering against the ground. Food scattered everywhere, the lamb, the bread, the precious honey cakes now crushed in the dirt. I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

Afraid of making more mistakes, I walked forward because I didn't know what else to do. My legs felt like they belonged to someone else. The crowd parted as I moved through them, whispers following in my wake.

"Is that really her?"

"Look at that dress. Where did she get something so fine?"

"Probably stole it."

The scent hit me halfway across the clearing. It was like nothing I'd ever smelled before, pine and leather and something wild, something that made a presence stir restlessly beneath my skin. It pulled at me, drew me forward like a rope around my chest.

Is that my wolf?

Getting excited, I followed the scent without thinking, my feet carrying me faster now. The crowd was getting thicker, the scent stronger. Whatever it was, whoever it was, I needed to find them. My soul was calling out, reaching for something I didn't understand.

I pushed through the last line of people and stopped dead.

Steve Martinez stood in the center of the clearing, tall and broad-shouldered in his ceremonial clothes. The future Alpha. The most powerful, most desired man in our pack. And he was staring at me like I was something that had crawled out from under a rock.

"Who the f**k are you?" he asked, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent crowd.

The question hit me like a slap. He was looking at me, really looking, like he'd never seen me before in his life. Like I was a stranger who'd wandered into his territory uninvited.

Fear crashed over me in waves. Fear and excitement and a terrible, desperate hope that I tried to crush before it could take root. The scent was coming from him. That wild, perfect scent that made my wolf sing.

No. It couldn't be.

Gasps erupted from all around us. Someone beside Steve, Marcus, stepped forward with his face twisted in disgust.

"Oh hell no," he said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "No f*****g way."

He looked from Steve to me and back again, and I saw the exact moment he understood.

"She's your mate?" The words came out like an accusation.

I took a step back, my face draining of color. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I looked around desperately, searching for an escape route, but the crowd had closed in around us. We were trapped in the center of their attention, two animals in a cage.

"No," I whispered, but my voice was lost in the murmur of shocked voices. "I... this isn't..."

I looked at Steve, silently begging him to say something. To deny it. To laugh it off as some kind of mistake. But he was just staring at me with the same disgusted expression, like I'd personally offended him by existing.

"This must be some sort of misunderstanding," I managed to say, the words tumbling out too fast. "There's been a mistake. I'm sorry, I'll just..."

"Damn right it's a mistake!" Marcus's voice cut through my stammering like a whip. "You conniving little b***h. What did you do?"

He shoved me hard, and I went down, my knees hitting the packed earth with bruising force. The beautiful dress tore as I fell.

Steve looked away in disgust, like he couldn't bear the sight of me.

"You have some f*****g nerve," Marcus continued, his voice rising. "Showing up here, trying to steal what isn't yours. Trying to seduce our future Alpha."

He kicked me in the ribs, and I curled around the pain, gasping.

The whispers started then, spreading through the crowd like wildfire.

"Did she really try to seduce him?"

"How is that even possible?"

"Dark magic. Has to be."

"I saw her running through the woods this morning. She must have been meeting with a witch."

"To think she'd try to steal her own cousin's mate..."

Each whisper was worse than the last. I wanted to defend myself, to tell them they were wrong, but the words wouldn't come. Marcus beckoned to the guards at the edge of the crowd.

"Lock her up," he ordered. "Dark magic is forbidden in this pack. She needs to be punished."

"Stop."

Steve's voice cut through the chaos, calm and cold. Everyone froze, waiting for his judgment. I looked up at him hopefully, desperately. Maybe he'd see reason. Maybe he'd remember that I'd never done anything to hurt him, never done anything but admire him from a distance.

But he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed somewhere over my head, like I was beneath his notice.

"She's not worth it," he said simply.

"But Alpha..." Marcus started.

"There's no evidence she used dark magic," Steve continued, his tone bored. "And even if she tried to... influence me somehow, it would never work. I'm not blind."

The crowd laughed at that. Appreciative chuckles that made my cheeks burn with shame.

"I will never accept her as a mate," Steve said, his words carrying across the silent clearing like a death sentence.

More laughter. More whispers of approval. What a wise Alpha. What a kind leader, to be so merciful with someone so beneath him.

I wanted to disappear. To sink into the earth and never have to face any of them again. The mate bond that I'd felt so strongly just moments ago now felt like chains around my chest, pulling tighter with each cruel word.

Through my tears, I saw Clara approaching.