Sold To The Devilish Alpha

Sophia's POV. "Father, please!" I desperately cry out, my voice carrying a mix of fear and helplessness. Waves of unease wash over me, knowing all too well what will transpire when she indulges relentlessly in alcohol. "You useless child!" he barks, his words accompanied by the forceful flinging of the bottle, narrowly missing me. A powerful flinch courses through my body, the fear of being struck seeping into my being. I ran my way cautiously through the room, trying to evade his presence so as to avoid being his target. "All the ladies in the village have found their mate, while you remain worthless," he spits out with an expression of pure revulsion. And he is right. At the young age of eighteen, it is common for she-wolves to find their soulmates, yet here I am, still without one. Doubts linger, whispering that perhaps I am destined to never find love. Am I merely an unworthy omega, undeserving of even a sliver of affection? In this moment, I yearn for my mother's presence. She would have encouraged me to hold onto hope and remain positive, assuring me that good things come to those who are patient. But now, that well of optimism within me has run dry. I am overwhelmed, feeling utterly incapable of braving this alone. "Don't make me repeat myself, you foolish girl!" he shouts, ripping me from my contemplations. Fear courses through me, and I cannot deny it. Slowly, he retrieves his belt from his pants, inching closer to me. Instinctively, I let out a sharp yelp, desperately attempting to flee. Yet, my efforts prove futile as I stumble and collide with the vase, causing it to shatter upon impact, and I fall, helpless. With an evil grin on his face, he advances towards me, tightly gripping the belt. "Please—" I manage to utter before being abruptly interrupted by the relentless strike of his belt, causing me to scream out in anguish. Desperate cries for assistance escape my lips, echoing through the empty spaces, but relief does not come. He proceeds with his torment, while I am left to endure the excruciating pain, feeling a numbness envelop my senses. Time loses meaning, the minutes stretching into eternity, until he finally pauses, lowering himself to the ground beside me. Gazing at me, he takes a piece of the broken vase, clumsily carving a deep scar into my delicate neckline. As blood begins to slowly trickle, I emit a muted, pained whimper. "You will forever remain a worthless piece of nothing, just as your mother was," he sneers, before stumbling away, propelled by his intoxicated state. I gasped for breath, sprawled on the ground, my tears falling freely as I watched him walk out of the room without a shred of remorse for me, his own flesh and blood. His indifference cut through me like a knife, leaving a deep sense of abandonment and despair. Summoning every ounce of strength left within me, I mustered the courage to stand up and make my way to the washroom. There, I clean up the evidence of my sorrow, and prepare for the chores that awaited me. My body ached with the weight of emotional and physical pain, but I couldn't afford to give up. Limping towards the courtyard, I decided to go and meet Mrs. Smith, the only person in my life who showed me genuine kindness. Her unwavering attention and care provided a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak existence. She alone understood the torment I endured at the hands of my cruel father. "Sophia, my dear child, are you alright?" Her gentle voice quivered with concern as she caught sight of me, returning from milking the cows. My lips trembled uncontrollably as I collapsed into her warm embrace. The weight of my anguish overcame me, and I broke into inconsolable sobs. Mrs. Smith held me tighter, offering me a brief respite from the pain that consumed me. "What is it?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine worry. As I found the strength to speak through my tears, I revealed the scar that marked the cruelty of my father. The wound, reopened by my recent emotional turmoil, began to bleed once more, prompting Mrs. Smith to react with a mixture of fear and concern. "Oh, my dear, what has happened to you?" Her distress was palpable as she took hold of me and guided me to a nearby spot in the courtyard. She swiftly fetched a bucket of water and a clean cloth, leading me into her small personal room. Seating me down gently, she urged me to lie down. Solitary tears streamed down my face as I watched her gather an assortment of healing herbs, her experienced hands moving with precision and care. "Don't worry, my child. I promise you, everything will be alright," Mrs. Smith reassured me softly. "But first, tell me what happened." I winced as the warm water caressed my wounded skin, awakening a myriad of emotions within me. My quivering lips struggled to form the words, but through a haze of tears, I managed to express the depth of my hatred. "I despise him, with every fiber of my being." "Don't say that dear, he is still your father--" I cut her off with a hiss, "Father you say? That man has no ounce of humanity left in him. He doesn't deserve to be called a father in fact" Mrs Smith understood that there was no point in creating an argument as she knew all that I'm saying was right. She sighed, "It'll be okay" She said as she always does. If only her words could come true. I need to leave, this village, my father and all the pain he has caused me, I needed to start afresh but how? How will I do that? "You're not having thought of running away, are you?" Mrs Smith asked with a smirk lingering on her lip. Dang it! She knew me too well. "I'll help you. It's about time"