Sold to the Cursed Alpha

Chapter 2

Growing up without parents had shaped Stella in ways she didn't like to think about. The old Alpha, Drake's father, had told her that her folks died during a border skirmish with rogues. He'd been decent enough, letting her stay in the pack-house, even sending her to the omega school down in the valley.

Then he died, and everything changed.

Drake took over, and within months, he had pulled her from school. Said she needed to earn her keep if she wanted to stay. The jobs got worse: cleaning, scrubbing, serving. She had caught him watching her sometimes with this look that made her skin crawl. But then he'd blink and turn away as she disgusted him.

What he didn't know, what was that nobody knew, was the mark on her shoulder blade. A silver crescent moon wrapped in black thorns, about the size of a silver dollar.

The pack's old healer had seen it once when Stella was twelve and nearly had a heart attack. Told her to keep it hidden, that marks like that meant trouble. Dark magic, curses, things that got wolves killed.

So Stella kept it covered. Always. As the door swung open, Cassidy stepped in with a smile on her face, one that sent shivers through Stella's spine.

"You really thought you had a chance?" Cassidy laughed, the sound grating. "Look at you. You're nothing. A pathetic little orphan who scrubs toilets. Ryker would never choose someone like you."

Stella lowered her head, it was obvious that Cassidy was aware of her and Ryker.

She stepped closer, and Stella smelled the expensive perfume, saw the perfect makeup, the designer clothes. Everything Stella would never be.

"Clean yourself up," Cassidy said, flicking her hair. "You look like hell. And if anyone asks why you're crying, you better come up with a good lie. Because if they find out the truth..." She smiled. "Well. We both know how that ends."

The door slammed shut.

Stella sat there, hugging her knees, feeling like she'd been gutted. They'd known. For months, they'd known and let her hope, let her believe—

Kira whimpered in her mind, wounded and confused.

When she finally dragged herself out of the storage room, Maya was waiting by the kitchen entrance. "New assignment," she announced with way too much glee. "You're on bathroom duty. All of them. East wing, west wing, training facilities. Better get started."o

"What? But I—"

Maya's hand cracked across her face. The slap echoed in the empty hallway.

Stella's cheek burned, eyes watering from the shock more than the pain.

"Don't talk back," Maya hissed. "Just do your job."

The bathrooms were disgusting. Stella spent hours scrubbing toilets, washing floors, trying not to think about how far she had fallen. Trying not to feel the bond with Ryker pulling at her chest, a constant reminder of what she couldn't have.

The next week crawled by. Cassidy seemed to be everywhere, always with some new accusation. A broken mirror here, a stained tablecloth there. Somehow it was always Stella's fault. The other pack members started avoiding her, whispering when she passed.

Ryker never looked at her. Not once.

Then came the morning everything went to hell.

Stella walked into the kitchen and immediately knew something was wrong. Maya stood there with this weird expression, holding a set of crystal glasses the expensive ones Alpha Drake's mother had brought from Europe decades ago.

Without warning, Maya hurled them at the floor near Stella's feet.

Glass exploded everywhere.

"You clumsy i***t!" Maya screamed.

"I didn't—"

Cassidy appeared in the doorway like she had been waiting just around the corner. "Maya, what happened?"

"She broke Alpha Drake's mother's crystal! The whole set!"

"No!" Stella backed up, hands raised. "I didn't touch them, I just walked in—"

"Liar!" Cassidy's face twisted with fake concern. "Those were priceless. Alpha Drake's going to be furious."

Maya grabbed Stella's arm, nails digging in. Cassidy moved to her other side. They dragged her toward the pantry, away from the main kitchen where anyone might see.

"You've been nothing but trouble since you got here," Maya snarled. "Time someone taught you a lesson."

The first punch caught Stella in the stomach. She doubled over, gasping. Then came another, and another. She tried to fight back, but they were both stronger, better fed, not worn down by weeks of brutal work.

"Stop," she wheezed. "Please—"

A growl froze everyone in place.

Ryker stood in the pantry doorway, his expression dark. For one stupid second, Stella thought he had come to help her. That the bond meant something after all.

"What's going on here?" His voice was cold, authoritative.

Cassidy's face transformed instantly. She held up her hand, showing a small cut on her finger barely bleeding. "Ryker, thank goddess. Stella threw broken glass at me. She's out of control."

"That's not—" Stella tried to stand, but failed. "That's not what happened—"

"Enough." Ryker's eyes finally met hers, and they were empty. Nothing. "Take her to the cells."

The world stopped.

"You can't be serious," Stella whispered. She was bleeding. Actually hurt. And he was—

"Now," he ordered Maya and Cassidy.

They dragged her through the packhouse, down the stairs, into the basement where the holding cells were kept. The air smelled like mildew and despair. They shoved her into the farthest cell—barely six feet square, with a thin blanket and a bucket in the corner.

"Enjoy your stay," Cassidy said sweetly. "Maybe this'll teach you some respect."

The door clanged shut.

Seven days.

That's how long she stayed down there. No one came except Maya, once a day, with stale bread and water. No one asked if she was okay. No one cared.

Stella lost track of time. The darkness pressed in from all sides. Kira grew quieter each day, her presence fading. The bond with Ryker ached constantly, a wound that wouldn't heal.

On the seventh day, footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Maya appeared, looking way too pleased with herself. "Get up. Alpha Drake wants to see you."

Stella struggled with her feet, legs shaky. When had she ate? Yesterday? Two days ago?

"He's got news," Maya continued as she unlocked the cell. "You're being transferred."

"Transferred?"

"To the Shadowfang pack. Up north." Maya's smile was vicious. "Alpha Kieran needs a mate. Well, more like he needs someone to breed him an heir before his curse kills him. You know how it goes with his family—every Alpha dead before forty, usually taking their mate with them." She grabbed Stella's arm, yanking her forward. "Cassidy convinced Ryker it was the perfect solution. They get rid of you, secure an alliance with Kieran, and you get to play house with a cursed Alpha who'll probably kill you within a year. Win-win, right?"

The words didn't make sense at first. Then they did, and Stella felt her knees give out.

"No," she breathed. "No, they can't—"

"Oh, they can. And they did." Maya dragged her toward the stairs. "You really thought you mattered? That you could compete with Cassidy?" She laughed. "You're nothing, Stella. You've always been nothing. At least this way, you're useful."

Alpha Kieran. The cursed Alpha of Shadowfang. Everyone knew the stories of how every leader of that pack died young, violent deaths. How their mates rarely survived them. How Kieran himself had gone through two potential matches already, both dead within months.

And now Stella was being gift-wrapped and sent to him like some kind of sacrificial lamb.

The mate bond with Ryker pulsed weakly in her chest, a reminder that he had done this. Chosen this. Chosen to send her to her death rather than accept what they were.

Maya shoved her into a small room off the main hall. "Clean yourself up. You look like garbage. Alpha Kieran's arriving tomorrow to finalize the arrangement."

The door locked behind her.

Stella stood there, staring at her reflection in the dirty mirror. Hollow eyes, bruised face, matted hair. This was what her life had become. This was what her mate thought she deserved.

Something inside her cracked.

Not broke, just cracked. And through that c***k, something else emerged. Something that had been sleeping her whole life.

The mark on her shoulder blade burned.