Sold to the Ruthless Alpha

Chapter 4

The SUV rolled to a stop inside the massive compound, and the second those iron gates slammed shut behind us, I knew there was no going back. The clang echoed like a judge’s gavel. Everywhere I looked, wolves (actual pack members) were staring at me with pure venom. Some in human form leaned against the walls, arms crossed; others paced in wolf form, hackles raised. The air was thick with their scents: wet pine, raw meat, and that unmistakable undercurrent of shifter aggression. My skin prickled.

Ethan didn’t waste time. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the back seat so hard I nearly tripped on the gravel. My cuffed wrists made it impossible to catch my balance properly. The cold night air hit me like a slap, carrying distant howls that made my wolf whine inside me.

And then I saw him.

Zyran was waiting in the doorway of the huge stone packhouse, lit from behind like some dark king. Those golden eyes found mine instantly, and the mate bond slammed into me, hard. It felt like someone had hooked a chain around my ribs and yanked. Pain, heat, want, hate, all of it crashing together until I could barely breathe.

He stepped forward slowly, every movement deliberate. God, he looked even more dangerous than I remembered: taller, shoulders broader, that dark hair falling just enough to make him look wild. When he got close, he didn’t say a word at first. Just circled me, slow, like he was memorizing every inch. His fingers brushed my arm (barely a touch), but it lit me up like a match to gasoline.

“Welcome home, little traitor,” he finally murmured, voice low and rough. “Miss me?”

I lifted my chin, trying to ignore how my pulse was racing. “This isn’t my home. And you know exactly why I ran.”

His smile was sharp enough to cut. “Oh, I know. And I’m going to enjoy reminding you why you never should have.” He reached out, thumb tracing my jaw for a second (possessive, obsessive) before he nodded at Ethan. “Take her to her room.”

Ethan hauled me inside. The doors shut with a heavy thud, and just like that, I was trapped.

They put me in what should have been a guest suite in some fancy hotel: huge bed with silk sheets, velvet curtains, even a chandelier. But the second the door locked, I saw it for what it was: a very pretty cage. I went straight to the windows. The glass looked normal until I pressed my palm against it and felt the faint hum of magic. Wards. Unbreakable. The door was reinforced oak and steel. No way out.

I paced for what felt like hours, my wolf restless under my skin. The bond kept tugging at me, low and insistent, like a voice whispering give in, go to him. I hated it. Hated him. Hated how part of me wanted to listen.

My mind kept flashing back to New York: the noise, the crowds, the way I could disappear into a sea of humans and pretend I wasn’t tied to an alpha who wanted to own me. That freedom felt like a lifetime ago.

A knock pulled me out of it. The door opened just enough for a tray to slide in, carried by a she-wolf with razor-sharp cheekbones and a glare that could peel paint. She set the food down (steak, still bleeding) and sneered.

“Eat. Alpha says you need your strength.” The way she said Alpha dripped with worship, and warning.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” She leaned in, voice dropping. “Just so you know, the pack hasn’t forgotten what you did. You’ll never be Luna in our eyes.”

The door slammed. Great. Day one, and I already had enemies delivering my dinner.

Later (much later) the lock turned again. Zyran walked in without knocking, shirtless, skin still glistening from a shift or a workout. The sight of him hit me like a punch. The bond roared.

“Settling in?” he asked, all mock politeness.

“It’s cozy,” I shot back, folding my arms. “Love the bars.”

He laughed, low and dark, and closed the distance between us. “You sold me out, Lythia. Gave my enemies everything they needed to hit us hard. All to protect your family.” His hand came up, fingers wrapping loosely around my throat (not squeezing, just holding). “Was it worth it?”

I swallowed against his palm. “Yes. I’d do it again.”

“Liar.” His thumb stroked my pulse. “I feel you. Right here.” He pressed harder for a second. “You’re fighting it, but you want this as much as I do.”

“I want you to let my parents go. I want you to burn.”

His eyes flashed. “Careful. Keep talking like that, and your punishment will be creative.” He leaned in until his lips almost brushed mine. “Or maybe you’d like that.”

I shoved at his chest (useless, he didn’t budge), but he stepped back anyway, smirking like he’d won something.

“Sleep well, mate. Big day tomorrow.”

He left. The lock clicked. I stood there shaking, palm pressed to my throat where his hand had been, the bond burning hotter than ever.

**Ethan’s POV**

I watched Zyran leave her room, jaw tight, eyes practically glowing. Man’s losing it over her, and everyone can smell it. The whole packhouse is buzzing: half the wolves think bringing the traitor back as Luna is insane; the other half are just waiting to see if she’ll break or if he will.

He’s already got the elders scrambling for wedding prep: flowers, vows, extra guards at the borders. Dawn ceremony. No delays.

One of the scouts mentioned picking up a faint trail earlier: some lone wolf sniffing too close. Has to be that friend of hers, Vincent. I’ll tell Zyran soon. Right now, he’s too focused on her to care about anything else.

She’s locked away up there, alone. And he’s down here running an empire. Funny how the strongest alpha I’ve ever known is completely undone by one woman.

Night finally fell, and Zyran went back to her room one last time. I heard the raised voices through the door.

“The wedding’s at dawn,” he said, calm as death. “You’ll stand with me in front of the pack. It’s done.”

“I’m not marrying you,” she fired back. “This bond doesn’t mean I belong to you.”

His laugh was dark. “Keep telling yourself that.” A pause, then quieter, “Refuse, and your parents stay in the cells. Accept, and maybe I’ll make it worth your while.”

Silence. Then the door opened and he stepped out, expression unreadable. Lock clicked.

Inside, I’d bet anything she’s touching the spot on her skin where he last touched her, feeling the bond pull like gravity.

Tomorrow’s going to change everything. For better or worse.