claim by the alpha

*CLAIMED BY THE ALPHA* *CHAPTER 1: The Funeral and The Promise* _∼ The rain didn’t stop for 3 days. Not during the funeral. Not during the burial. Not when I stood alone in the cemetery watching them lower my mom into the ground. Her name was Lila Carter. 42. She was my whole world. And now she was gone. I was 19. An omega. And I had no one left. Pack law was clear: _An unmated omega with no guardian becomes property of the nearest Alpha._ The nearest Alpha was Damon Blackwood. My stepdad. For 2 years. He didn’t come to the funeral. Said he had “board business.” I believed it. Because what else was I supposed to do? The house was empty when I got back. Mom’s shoes by the door. Her sweater on the chair. Smell of vanilla and lavender everywhere. And him. Damon Blackwood. 39. 6’3. Broad shoulders. Dark hair with gray at the temples. Golden eyes that never looked at me for more than 2 seconds. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. CEO of Blackwood Industries. And the man my mom married 2 years ago for “security.” He was in the kitchen. Whiskey in hand. Staring out the window at the rain. He hadn’t taken off his funeral suit. “Where were you?” I asked. Voice hoarse from crying. “Working,” he said. “You missed it.” “I know.” Silence. The only sound was rain on the windows and the ice in his glass. “I’m going to my room,” I said. “Abi.” I stopped. “Pack law says you stay here. Until you’re 21. Or until you’re claimed.” I laughed. Bitter. “By who? You?” He didn’t answer. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t bother you. I’ll stay in my room. I’ll be quiet. Like I’ve been for 2 years.” I walked away before he could see me cry again. --- *Night 4* I couldn’t sleep. Grief does that. It sits on your chest and whispers your name. 1:30am. I went downstairs for water. He was there. No shirt. Sweatpants low on his hips. Scar across his ribs. Hair wet like he’d just showered. Whiskey. Again. He was looking at Mom’s photo on the fridge. The one from our wedding. 2 years ago. Her in a white dress, laughing. Him stiff beside her. He never loved her. We all knew it. It was a marriage of convenience. Protection. Money. “You shouldn’t be down here,” he said without turning. “Neither should you.” “This is my house.” “It was hers too.” He turned then. Golden eyes met mine. I was in pajamas. Old t-shirt. No bra. Hair a mess. His jaw ticked. “Go to bed, Abi.” “Don’t call me that.” “What should I call you?” “Nothing. You never talked to me before. Don’t start now.” He set the glass down. Hard. “I’m your guardian now. Legally.” “I don’t need a guardian.” “You’re 19. You’re an omega. You need protection.” “From who? You?” That was a mistake. He crossed the room in two steps. Not touching me. But close. I could smell him. Pine. Storm. Alpha. And under it, grief. The same as me. “Watch your mouth,” he said quietly. “Or what? You’ll punish me? You’ll claim me?” The words came out before I could stop them. Stupid. Reckless. Grief-stupid. His eyes dropped to my neck. To my pulse. Omegas smell different when they’re scared. I smelled like vanilla and rain and fear. “Don’t say things you don’t mean,” he said. Voice rough. “I don’t.” “Good.” He walked past me. Brushed my shoulder. The contact sent fire down my spine. Bond. Even without a mark, the proximity did things. “Rule 1,” he said at the stairs. “Stay out of my way.” “Rule 2?” “Don’t make me regret letting you stay.” Then he was gone. --- *Night 7* The knock came at 2:13am. Not on the front door. On the house. Like claws on wood. I shot up in bed. Heart pounding. Growling. Low. From downstairs. I ran. The living room was chaos. 4 men. Big. Scarred. Eyes yellow. Rogues. And Damon. Shirtless. Bleeding from a cut on his arm. Fighting 2 of them at once. “Get back!” he snarled when he saw me. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because one of them had broken off and was coming for me. He grabbed my arm. Yanked me. I screamed. “An unclaimed omega,” he growled in my ear. “Lucky night.” Damon roared. He threw the guy he was fighting and crossed the room so fast I barely saw it. He ripped the rogue off me. Snarling. Claws out. “Mine,” Damon said. The rogue laughed. “She’s not marked, Blackwood. Pack law says she’s free game.” “Then I’ll mark her.” Time stopped. Damon looked at me. Really looked at me. And I saw it. Fear. Not for himself. For me. “Abi,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Before I could ask what for, his arm was around my waist. He spun me. Pinned me to his chest. And his teeth were at my neck. Pain. White hot pain. Then heat. Like fire under my skin. Like coming home and drowning at the same time. He bit down. Hard. Twice. The Alpha mark. I screamed. The rogues cursed. “Pack law,” one spat. “She’s his. For one year. Let’s go.” They ran. The second they were gone, Damon let me go. Like I burned him. He staggered back. Hand over his mouth. My blood on it. I touched my neck. Two perfect marks. His. Throbbing. Hot. “What did you do?” I whispered. “I saved you,” he said. Voice shaking. “You marked me.” “I had to.” He paced. Hands in his hair. “f**k. f**k. I’m your stepdad. You’re 19. I’m 39. This is illegal. This is—” “It’s done,” I cut him off. “It’s done,” he echoed. We stared at each other in the wrecked living room. Blood on the floor. Broken furniture. And between us, a bond that wasn’t there 5 minutes ago. “Pack law,” he said finally. “One year. You live here. Under my protection. Under my name.” “And after one year?” “You’re free. No strings. I sign the papers and you go.” He wouldn’t look at me. “Go to your room,” he said. “I’ll have the medic come check you.” “I don’t need—” “Go, Abi.” I went. In my room, I stared at the mark in the mirror. Red. Swollen. His. And the worst part? When he bit me, for one second the grief stopped. I wasn’t alone anymore. I was claimed. By the man who was never supposed to touch me. --- *The Next Morning* He wasn’t at breakfast. Clara, the housekeeper, made eggs. Didn’t meet my eyes. “Mr. Blackwood said to tell you there’s a meeting tonight. Pack meeting. You have to attend.” I nodded. The mark throbbed. At 8pm, Damon knocked on my door. Full suit. Tie. Hair perfect. But his eyes were bloodshot. “Ready?” “For what?” “To be presented. As mine.” He offered his arm. I didn’t take it. “Don’t touch me unless you have to,” he said quietly. “For show.” The car ride was silent. The great hall was full. 50 people. Alphas, betas, omegas. All staring. Damon walked in. Me half a step behind. The room went quiet. “Everyone,” he said. Voice that commanded rooms. “This is Abi Carter. She will be under my protection for the next year. As per pack law.” Murmurs. His mother, Elena, stood up front. 60s. Pearls. Smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well,” she said. “This is unexpected, son.” “She’s safe here,” Damon said. “That’s all you need to know.” Elena’s eyes dropped to my neck. To the mark I tried to cover with a scarf. Her smile got wider. “We’ll be watching,” she said. After, in his office, I broke. “You lied to them.” “I protected you.” “By lying?” “By claiming you,” he said. “It’s the only way.” He poured whiskey. “Rules,” he said. “New ones.” “I’m listening.” “1. You don’t leave without me. 2. You don’t talk to other Alphas. 3. You don’t tell anyone we’re not... real.” “And 4?” “4. In one year, this ends. You go. And we both pretend this never happened.” He drank. “Any questions?” “Yeah,” I said. “Why did you really do it?” He didn’t answer. Just stared at my neck. At his mark. “Because I couldn’t watch them take you,” he said finally. Then he looked away. I left his office. And touched the mark on my neck. Hot. Alive. Bound by his name. For one year. And I had no idea if I’d survive it. --- *END CHAPTER 1 -