BOUND TO THE ALPHA

Chapter 1 – Sold to the Alpha The scent of blood clung to the air like smoke—thick, stale, and heavy. Amara Quinn stood at the edge of the wooden stage, trembling. Her bare feet pressed against the cold, dirt-crusted floor, her body covered in nothing but a thin gray shift that clung to her like a second skin. She wasn’t shaking from the cold, not entirely. Fear had settled deep in her bones. The crowd below watched her like a pack of vultures—men with greedy eyes and cruel mouths, all waiting for the bidding to begin. "Lot thirty-seven!" the auctioneer barked, slamming a staff on the stage. "Omega female. Untouched. Twenty-one. No recorded powers. Good breeding stock. Bidding starts at one hundred gold." Amara flinched at the word stock. Like she was some kind of livestock—meat to be sold, used, then discarded. A chuckle rose from the crowd. "She doesn’t look like much. Probably breaks easy." "Maybe. But that face will make the dying worth it." Laughter followed. Amara kept her head down, fists clenched at her sides. She wouldn’t cry. She’d already done enough of that when her pack cast her out for being a “defective omega.” No shift. No bond. No future. Only this. "Two hundred," a man grunted. "Three-fifty!" "Four hundred!" Then a voice cut through the chaos—deep, calm, and final. "Five hundred." The crowd went silent. Amara's heart skipped. That voice didn’t sound like the others. It was cold, yes, but not crude. It was... commanding. All heads turned toward the back of the room, where a tall man stood cloaked in black. Shadows clung to him like loyal hounds, and the torchlight did nothing to reveal his face. But even hidden, his presence filled the room like thunder before a storm. "Five hundred," the auctioneer echoed, eyes wide. "Going once... going twice... Sold!" Amara didn’t breathe as chains clinked and heavy hands grabbed her arms. Someone hissed a warning in her ear, but she didn’t hear it. She was too busy staring at the man in black. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched. Like he already owned her soul. --- The ride to his estate was silent. Amara sat across from him in the dark carriage, wrists still shackled, trying not to look directly at him. But it was impossible not to. He radiated power, the kind that made even the shadows obey. He hadn’t spoken a word to her. Hadn’t even looked her way since she was handed over. Still, she couldn’t help asking, “Why did you buy me?” The horses’ hooves clattered against the road, the silence stretching thin. Then, he spoke—low, rough, dangerous. "You looked like you hadn’t given up." Amara blinked. That was all he said. And somehow, it scared her more than silence. --- His estate sat deep in the forest, far from any city or village. The gates were black iron, towering and spiked, opening to a stone mansion that looked more like a fortress than a home. The staff didn’t speak. The halls were cold. Every step echoed like it didn’t want to be heard. Lucian Blackthorn—because she finally knew his name—led her to a small room on the third floor and opened the door without a word. "This is where you’ll stay," he said. "You leave when I say. You speak when I say." "And if I don’t?" she asked quietly. He turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Then I won’t stop the curse from doing what it wants." Amara’s blood chilled. He shut the door behind him. --- Three days passed. He didn’t visit her. Didn’t summon her. Servants brought food but didn’t talk. Amara didn’t try to escape. She wasn’t stupid. Whatever lived in those woods outside wasn’t human. And besides… she wasn’t sure what she was safer from—what was outside or the Alpha who had bought her. On the fourth night, the silence broke. It was a howl. Long. Ragged. Not just angry—but pained. Amara jolted from the bed and crept to the window. Moonlight bathed the gardens in silver, casting shadows through the trees. Something moved beyond the hedges—fast, large, wild. She slipped out of her room, heart pounding. Curiosity or stupidity, she didn’t know which one drove her, but her bare feet led her to the back of the estate and out into the night. The air was cold and thick with the scent of pine and earth. And then… she saw him. Lucian. But not like before. He was on his knees, shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin. His body twisted, contorting in ways that weren’t natural. His back arched as a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest. Fur began to ripple over his skin. His fingers bent, nails growing into claws. His mouth bared sharp, animalistic teeth. She gasped. His head snapped toward her, eyes glowing gold in the dark. "Leave," he snarled, his voice half-beast, half-man. Amara stood frozen. "You don’t know what I am," he growled, dragging himself backward, fighting the change. "I don’t care," she whispered. And she meant it. Something about him, about this moment, felt bigger than fear. Like fate. He stared at her like he’d never seen a person before. His body trembled violently as he fought the shift, but his eyes stayed locked on hers. "You should be afraid of me," he said, his voice cracking. She took a slow step closer, breath hitching. "But I’m not." And just like that—his control snapped. He lunged. Not to kill. But to claim. --- Amara stumbled backward, heart slamming against her ribs as Lucian’s massive frame crashed into the ground just inches from her. His breathing was heavy, wild. His claws dug into the earth, and his eyes—still glowing—held something terrifying. Something possessive. Something primal. She opened her mouth to scream. But before she could say a word, his voice broke through the growl. "You’re mine now, Amara."