The Alpha Who Buried Me Alive

Isabella felt the chains before anything else. Before the voices. Before the crowd. Before the cold stone pressed through her bare feet. The silver cuffs around her wrists were tight enough to make every small movement feel like punishment, like the metal was remembering her on purpose. She kept her head lowered. Not because she had no pride left. Because she had learned that pride did not protect anyone here. Above her, the underground hall was alive with noise. Low laughter. Sharp whispers. The kind of sound people made when they were watching something they believed had no future. “Lot Seven,” the auctioneer said, stepping onto the center platform. “Female omega. Rogue classification confirmed. No pack registration. No legal protection under council law.” A ripple moved through the crowd. Isabella stayed still. She had stopped reacting to words like rogue a long time ago. They were just names people used when they did not want to feel guilty. “Starting bid,” the auctioneer continued, “one hundred thousand credits.” Hands lifted immediately. Then more. Isabella’s fingers curled once before she forced them open again. She had survived worse than being priced. She had survived being forgotten. Still… tonight felt heavier. Like the air itself was holding its breath. As if something important had already arrived but had not spoken yet. “Five hundred thousand.” The voice cut through the room cleanly. The hall slowed. Isabella felt it before she understood it. Her chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with memory. She lifted her head slowly. At the far end of the hall, half swallowed by shadow, a man stood without moving. Luciano Moretti. Alpha of the Northern Dominion. The name alone made most people avoid breathing too loudly around him. He had not stepped forward. He had not raised his voice again. He did not need to. The space around him already shifted as if the room had decided where to lean. Isabella’s body reacted before her thoughts caught up. Something deep under her skin pulled sharply, like a thread tightening after years of silence. No. That connection was supposed to be gone. She had lived through five years believing it was gone. Luciano stepped forward. Only one step. The crowd instinctively lowered its gaze without realizing that it was doing so. Isabella hated that her eyes did not follow. He stopped at the edge of the platform. Not close enough to touch her. Not far enough to feel distant. His eyes stayed on her. And for a moment, Isabella forgot how to breathe properly. She had told herself many times that the past could not reach her here. That she had buried it deep enough to survive it. But Luciano, looking at her like this, made something inside her shift in a way she could not control. The auctioneer cleared his throat nervously. “Lord Luciano, we can continue standard bidding if you wish.” “Fifty million,” Luciano said. The hall went completely silent. Isabella’s breath caught. Fifty million was not a bid. It was a claim. Her voice came out before she could stop it. “Why?” It was soft. Almost lost under the weight of the room. Luciano finally spoke directly to her. “I already let you disappear once,” he said. “I will not allow it again.” The words struck her harder than the chains ever had. Because they did not sound like ownership. They sounded like someone who had been losing something for a very long time. Isabella let out a short, broken laugh that did not belong to humor. “You let me disappear?” she whispered. “You think I had a choice in that?” Something tightened in his expression, brief and restrained, like a fracture trapped behind glass. Before he could answer, another voice entered the space. Calm. Too calm. “Bidding interference is not permitted without council authorization.” A man stepped forward from the side rows before the silence could settle again. Black coat. Silver insignia at his collar. Hands folded behind his back like he had been waiting for this exact moment. His name was Matteo Rinaldi, Council Enforcer of Sector Three. He looked at Isabella the way people looked at dangerous things locked behind steel. “She is classified property under containment protocol,” Matteo continued. “Unauthorized purchase will be met with enforcement action.” The word property landed harder than anything before it. Isabella felt something inside her tighten sharply. Luciano did not turn toward Matteo immediately. His attention stayed on her. Then he spoke, voice calm but lower now. “Do not refer to her like that again.” Matteo smiled faintly. “You are emotional,” he replied. “That will be documented.” Luciano finally looked at him. For the first time, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Isabella saw it then. Not rage. Not chaos. Something colder. Control is beginning to fracture. “If you take another step forward,” Luciano said quietly, “you will not leave this room standing.” Matteo’s smile faded slightly. But he did not move. Instead, he tilted his head a fraction, as if listening to someone speaking directly into his ear. Isabella noticed the small device hidden beneath his collar. He was not alone. Someone else was watching through him. The realization made her stomach tighten. Then pain exploded beneath her skin. Her breath snapped out violently. Her knees almost buckled. Heat spread across the back of her neck so fast it felt like fire forcing its way through bone. Her hand flew upward instinctively. The mark surfaced beneath her skin. Faint at first. Then brighter. Like something ancient dragging itself awake after years buried in darkness. Gasps tore through the crowd. Several people stumbled backward immediately. A glass shattered somewhere near the upper balcony. Matteo stepped back for the first time. “This should not be possible,” he muttered. Luciano froze. Not from shock. Like something inside him had just been hit directly. Isabella swayed, struggling to remain upright. “What is happening to me?” she whispered. Luciano’s voice came out rougher now. “Isabella…” Hearing her name from him made the burning worse. The mark flared brighter beneath her skin. And suddenly, a man near the front row dropped to his knees so hard the impact echoed across the hall. “T-that mark…” he choked out, staring at her in terror. “Impossible…” The people around him immediately moved away. One woman covered her mouth. Another man lowered his head completely, refusing to look directly at Isabella anymore, as if even seeing the mark too long could destroy him. Fear spread through the room faster than sound. Matteo’s face lost what little color remained. “The bond was severed under council decree,” he said sharply. “It was confirmed irreversible.” Luciano still had not looked away from Isabella. “They lied,” he said. Isabella stared at him, breath uneven. “What are you talking about?” Luciano’s jaw tightened. When he finally answered, his voice carried something heavier than certainty. “The bond never ended.” The room shifted again. Not with noise. With dread. Isabella’s knees weakened. The mark pulsed harder. And then Matteo moved fast, pulling something from inside his coat. A small silver device. Urgency cut through his voice now. “She was never meant to awaken again,” he said. “If the bond completes, everything resets.” Luciano turned sharply. But it was too late. The device was activated. A violent wave of pressure exploded outward. Isabella’s vision fractured instantly. The mark burst into blinding light. And just before the world disappeared completely, Luciano’s voice tore through the chaos like it was fighting to reach her. “Isabella, stay with me.” Then the world went white.