Bought by an alpha
1421 Words
Éline’s pov
My legs carried me faster than I thought possible, but the night seemed endless—every tree a blur, every breath a searing burn in my chest. I didn’t know where I was running to. I didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t there.
The ground beneath my bare feet was cold and unforgiving, sharp twigs slicing across my soles. My dress, torn and stained, snagged on branches and flared behind me like a ghost. My wolf, still buried deep within me, remained painfully silent. Empty.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the wind slapped the tears against my cheek.
My parents were gone. My home, destroyed. My world… shattered.
I stumbled into a clearing I’d never seen before. The moonlight spilled through the trees, casting an eerie glow over the tall grass. I collapsed in the center of it, finally allowing the sob to rip from my throat. The sound was raw, animalistic—too human to be wolf, too broken to be anything else. My adrenaline had run out by now and everything began to sink in.
I pressed my forehead to the ground and screamed into the earth.
Why hadn’t I done something? Why hadn’t I been stronger?
Why hadn’t I known?
I suspected something was off the past few days. I should have been ready.
I thought about the way my mother looked at me before she was shot. The way she mouthed Run. That single word would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I was still lying there when the faintest crunch of footsteps echoed from the trees.
I sat up, eyes wide.
Snap.
There it was again. Not from behind but the side.
I scanned the darkness, heart thundering. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
I rose to my knees, fists clenched. “I swear if you come any closer”
A shadow shifted.
Someone stepped out from the trees. Tall. Dark. Silent. Cloaked in something too rich for the woods—black leather, silver buckles gleaming. His face remained shadowed, but I could feel his gaze burning into me.
My breath caught.
Why did he feel… familiar?
I gasp as realization dawned on me. Maybe I’m wrong but I can’t shake of that feeling that he’s the guy in the woods. The one from the previous day.
His presence triggered something deep in my chest like a tug, a pulse that beat just slightly out of sync with mine. Foreign… but known.
He didn’t speak. He just watched.
“Did you do this?” I asked, voice trembling.
Still, he said nothing.
“Are you one of them?” I rose shakily to my feet, clenching my jaw. “Are you here to finish me off?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if studying me. Then, slowly, he turned and disappeared into the woods.
Gone.
Just like that.
I stood frozen for what felt like hours.
Was he real?
Or was I losing my mind?
When I finally started walking again, the forest felt colder. More sinister. My thoughts kept circling back to that face. Or lack of it. The cloak. The sensation in my chest. That familiarity.
But I didn’t have time to dwell. The rival pack had invaded our town. They would be hunting survivors.
I needed to find somewhere—someone—safe.
I kept walking until my legs gave out again. Until my body simply refused to go on.
The next time I woke up, I was in a cage.
Cold stone beneath me. Rusted iron bars. The scent of blood and despair hung thick in the air.
My head pounded. My wrists ached.
And my wolf… was beginning to stir. I could feel her. I was in utter shock momentarily forgetting the state I was in. This could definitely be laughed at. WHY NOW?!
I don’t know if I should be angry or happy. All I’ve ever wished for was to feel her, to be complete but she never came.
Boiling rage over rides me. Why now of all times. Maybe if she had been a bit early, just a bit—maybe I would have been able to fight back. Defend my family, my home. But I couldn’t do anything and it’s all been taken from me. I let myself cry until I fall into a deep slumber.
I am awoken by the wails of young girls and boys that are in the same conditions as me. We’re mostly girls, the boy are not up to ten. The girls are more than thirty. We’re all locked up in cages and in a moving van or what seemed like it. I wonder if they’re taking us to blue river clan and what they’ll do to us there. A shiver runs down my spine at that thought.
The blue river clan is a mysterious and most dangerous pack. Mysterious because no one really knows what goes on in that pack and dangerous because they’re capable wiping out an entire pack just like they did to ours. They’re involved in all sorts of illegal dealings. They’re the strongest and most feared. No one messes with them. Makes me wonder what our pack did to them to deserve such misery.
Whatever it is we did it still doesn’t warrant such in human acts! They spared no one. They didn’t care about the little ones.
I hate the blue river clan they took my mom away from me—griffin. I ball my arms in a fist.
After what felt like days, the van finally stopped moving. We all scrambled to the extreme of our cages like that was going to save us from the big bad guys. Vicious men.
What an irony of life. I’ve always wanted to leave our town and explore the world. Now I’d do anything to go back. Life has a way of making you question your choices.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs right now but I don’t even have that privilege.
Frustration. Anger. Pain. Sadness.
Everything. I want to cry and beg for help but I know no one is coming to save me. To save us.
We’re all doomed.
We were all taken into a ware house where men and women gathered.
In front of them was a stage. It took me a moment to realize what was going on. They were going to sell us?!
They lined us up like animals.
Bare feet on cold stone, wrists bound, clothes torn and stained from days of being dragged around like we were nothing. I kept my eyes on the floor because looking up meant meeting their eyes, and I couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not when I still had a shred of dignity left to protect, even if it was paper-thin.
The stage was makeshift. wood nailed together, high enough so they could see all of us. Judge us. Price us.
I was the fourth to be called.
Men barked out numbers. Some leered. Others raised their paddles without even looking at me. I felt stripped, not just of clothing but of dignity, of identity. Just another girl. Just another body.
“Three hundred!”
“Three fifty!”
“Four!”
Then suddenly—
A voice.
Calm. Cold. Commanding.
“That one. She’s mine.”
Everything stopped.
The auctioneer’s words died mid-sentence. The crowd—noisy, greedy, feverish—fell into an eerie silence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
I didn’t dare look up, but I could feel it. The shift in the air. The weight of a presence so suffocating, so dominant, it bent the atmosphere itself. It was like the world had tilted slightly toward him.
People started turning—slowly, nervously. Some gasped. Others stepped back without meaning to. There was no question in anyone’s mind who had spoken. His voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t have to be. Power like that didn’t need volume. It demanded obedience by simply existing.
Sold! The auctioneer declared without warning.
I lifted my chin, just barely, just enough to breathe through the heat rising in my face. I didn’t bother looking up to see who bought me. I didn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. But I’d never felt so exposed, so stripped down to nothing, standing there while strangers haggled over what I was worth.
Like I didn’t used to have a name. A life. A mother who kissed my forehead every morning.
And just like like that I became someone’s property.
- Writer
