Sold To The Cruel Alpha: His Omega Mate

CHAPTER THREE

Alina’s POV

I stumbled back from the forest road to our home. I was now a mess; my hair was pulled out of its plait and into my face, and my eyes filled with tears, red and blotchy. I sniffled softly as I climbed up the stairs and opened the door. I was distracted and didn't notice my uncle and aunt in the sitting room until it was too late.

"There she is letting out all the hot air," she sneered. I stiffened, closing the door quickly behind me. My uncle Albert was the alpha of our pack; he was a short, broad man with a sharp nose and narrow eyes and an abusive character. His wife was no better than he was; she was tall and blond, beautiful in all the traditional ways, but as cold as the frost.

Neither of them liked me. My father was a disgraced warrior, and my mother couldn't make the cut for childbirth, giving birth to an omega with no wolf. It stung, but it was the truth. Every member of the pack met their wolf on a full moon by their fourteenth birthday.

For me, it was different. I had stood there beneath that full white moon and felt nothing, no pang of recognition to my true self, no crawling in my skin as fur broke through. I was an anomaly, a wolf who could not shift, and in a world that did not understand difference,I was less than nothing.

"Good evening, Alpha," I whispered, and he hissed, turning away from me. I frowned. They may not have liked me, but they didn't normally pounce on me as I walked through the door.

"I hear you couldn't secure a mate; you're defective in that area too," my aunt muttered, and I winced. Of course, the news had gotten back to them.

"You just plan to sponge on us for the rest of your life, don't you?" she continued, her eyes blazing with rage and annoyance. I had nothing to say; all I wanted to do was pull away. My uncle had said nothing so far, which was strange. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end. I had to get away from here; it didn't feel right to remain here.

I started to draw away, inching towards the door. Out of nowhere, a group of men crowded the room; they were guards, big, giant men who crowded her against the door.

"What's going on?" I asked, and my uncle ignored me, looking at the men.

"Take her out," he ordered, and they dragged me by my arms. I struggled against them, but their grip was firm and tight, strong as they pulled me to a car and tossed me into a cage. I banged against the locked door. My uncle came to stand in front of me, his wife by his side.

"You think we'll get a good price for her?" she asked. My blood froze in my veins. I paled, staring at them frantically, trying to decipher what they meant. He looked at me and nodded.

"She's fertile; that should make her fetch us a good price, plus she's royal blood," he offered, and she grinned and murmured something in his ear, and both of them laughed. My eyes widened, with surprise. They were planning to sell me, to give me out to people that would do whatever they wanted to do with me. I started to shake, my arms shaking. I stuffed into one another, hoping to stop the tremors, but they just went on and on. The car moved along the bumpy road, and each time we entered and came out of the car, jostled and pressed in, I hit against the cage bars, grunting at the pain each time I did.

We arrived at the slave market. It had started off after the war, when people wanted to sell off war prisoners, weak omegas. Now that it was the largest slave market in the territories, I could see people littered across the floors: girls like me, beautiful girls, some in simple dresses, others in nothing but their underwear, all displayed to the buyers who wanted them and to the men who'd use them.

I shivered as they pulled me out of the cage. I stumbled against the door, wincing at the pain. They dragged me along, my uncle leading the charge. He stopped in front of a burly man who looked me over and huffed, and the battering began. I watched them, my heart sinking within my chest. He was doing it. I wanted to beg him not to, but I wondered what use that would be. He would never keep me; I had no use; I was not a complete werewolf, and without a mate, I would never be a complete part of the pack.

I straightened my shoulder as both men looked at me, my uncle with disdain and the trader with amusement. He gestured to a few other men who met the guards holding my hand and took me from them. They led me away to a small room, handed me a dress, and stood there watching me. They were not leaving the room, which meant I had to dress where they were.

I stepped into the other dress, then pulled off my mother's dress, and they chuckled at me.

"Little Princess looks good," one muttered, touching my breast. I shivered, shifting away from his wandering hands. Another of the men slapped his hands.

"Don't touch the merch," he muttered. I pulled my dress up; it was small, short, and sheer pink. It could be beautiful, but the fact that I will be standing in front of people I don't know as they watch me scares me.

They take me to a stage, dumping me on it. I watch the already loud crowd; they all just seem to stare at me for a long while, going a bit silent. Then the crowd moves on. I can see my uncle in the crowd; he keeps conversing with the trader looking in my direction. He smiles, and I shrink into myself. I didn't think I could stand looking at him and knowing that he would give me up for a few bucks, but then it wasn't that far-fetched.

Men stood in front of me, looking at me. Some women joined in, but soon they walked away. I kept wondering why, and then I saw him. He had an aura about him, walking slowly to me, his face blank of all expression. Behind him, a couple of men followed. The trader abandoned my uncle and rushed to him, who was he to command such attention? He caused the sea of people to part like a river; he strolled to me and paused right at me. I froze.

He was tall, taller than most of the men I knew, and broader too; his hair was a dark and shiny black that flowed below his neck, and his eyes were an ice-cold black that seemed deep with no ending to their depths.

Beside me, one of the girls whimpered, a name being whispered among the crowd: Mario Rodrick. I started to think that he was a powerful alpha, the bloodiest and most violent alpha, and the youngest one too.

He had taken over the Red Raven pack at a young age of sixteen, and he had gone on to make his pack the biggest and baddest so that crossing him in a battle like the one started all those years ago would always be thought about twice.

He said nothing, just stared,his gaze running over me. From my head to my toe, he reached his hands and touched my skin, across my chest, my breath hitched in my throat. I didn't want to go anywhere with this man; he didn't look warm, he didn't look nice. I wondered just how bad it would be to live with him—a man as violent and as hard as he was would be like. But then he said something—that touched something deep in me. He looked at my uncle.

"How much, I want her!”