What Belongs to the Alpha

Sandra’s POV My people were screaming; the sound echoed an agonizing symphony. My heart beat loud and fast in my chest as I raced through the charred remains of my pack’s village. Smoke burned my eyes, but the agony was nothing compared to the guilt raking my soul. I was running. Fleeing while my pack was being butchered. The night filled with a piercing howl. A dying wolf. My parents. My legs just buckled — grief pierced me like a blade and I was undone. No. They couldn’t be dead. They were warriors. Strong. They promised to protect me. But the bodies I had passed along the way told me otherwise. A vice-like grip closed down on my wrist, suddenly. I grimaced as I was pulled back in violent force. “Where do you think you’re going? a deep voice sneered. I fought, but more hands seized me — one, two… six warriors circled around me, their eyes gleamed like wolves who had cornered their prey. Luca’s men. Viral ones from the rogue Alpha's strongest fighters. This is the man behind the m******e. I was the target all along. “No! Let me go!” I thrashed, kicking and clawing, but they pulled me through the wreckage. They littered the ground, blood-soaked bodies and the burnt flesh made me gag. When we came to a big black tent I knew who was waiting inside. Alpha Luca. Before I had even entered, his presence was choking. And when I did — when I finally encountered the menace who had taken everything from me — I froze. He perched on a throne-like chair, golden eyes shimmering under the dim lanterns. A hunter who had just made his kill. “There she is,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. His lips curled into a smirk. “My little lamb.” I shivered. "You belong to me now." My stomach twisted in horror. “No, please—” “You don’t need to beg.” Luca chewed on a fingernail, looked at me from the side, elbow on the table, head there, chin on the fist. “At least, not yet.” “Please… I don’t want to die like this.” My voice broke. Luca laughed — a hard, vicious noise. “Oh, Sandra,” he said, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Who said anything about wanting to kill you?” Tap tap tap tap—before I could absorb his words he snapped his fingers. "Take her away." The journey was torture. Two hours in a small, dark carriage with my wrists tied, fear eating me alive. My body hurt by the time we arrived at Luca’s mansion, but my mind was more injured. I was pushed out of the carriage, falling on the marble steps of the grand estate. The sight took my breath away. It was beautiful — soaring spires, elaborately carved stone facades, and gold-plated chandeliers visible through the giant windows. A place fit for a king. Or a tyrant. “Move it,” one of the guards shouted, pushing me ahead. And I hardly had time to take in my surroundings before I was dragged through dark hallways that smelled of polished wood and expensive cologne. Then—a slap. It hit hard and sudden, snapping my head to the side. I gasped in pain as my cheek stung. “Wake up, you good-for-nothing wolf,” the warrior growled. I swallowed my scream, my body frozen in fear. They took me into a huge bedroom. The door clicked shut behind me. I was alone. I gasped in snatchy breaths, hugging my arms around myself. This was real. My pack was gone. My parents were dead. And I was a prisoner of the man who had destroyed my life. The door burst open. I started, my breath seizing in my throat. Luca stood there. Tall, powerful, terrifying. His black top molded to his chiseled body, his amber orbs boring into me with unnerving focus. He stepped inside and poured himself wine, as if the time of day mattered, as if he had all the time in the world, and silence considered itself between us. “So tell me, Sandra,” he said smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. "How old are you?" The abrupt question made me recoil. "I-I am..." “Speak,” he barked, his voice cutting like a knife. "Eighteen, sir," I whispered. "Good." Another sip. Then, casually — too casually — he said: "Strip." My breath stalled. Did I hear him correctly? When I didn’t move, his eyes darkened. "I said, strip." I felt myself struck by panic, like a bolt of lightning. "P-Please... I can’t do that..." Luca sighed. “Do not test my patience, little girl.” He got to his feet, moving over to a wardrobe. Something was in his hand when he turned back. A whip. My stomach dropped. I panicked and scrambled backward, pressing myself so deep against the wall that I felt myself choking with fear. Luca grinned, his hand striking the whip on his palm. "Listen carefully," he said. "You will not scream. You will not beg. “If you disobey me, I’ll break you until you’re one step away from death—but just enough to keep you alive.” The air hung thick in the room. He stepped closer. I tried to run. But there was no place else to go.