The Alpha's Claim

*************

"In a few days, she'll be out of our lives for good."

I gripped the plate tightly, my knuckles whitening as I scrubbed it under the lukewarm water. The voice in the hall was unmistakable: my stepmother, Lycril, discussing something in hushed tones. Her words cut through the air, and an odd chill traveled down my spine.

With each passing day, my body felt weaker, the bruises multiplying, as though my skin had become a canvas for the fury of those I called family. My mother's love had shielded me once, but her death had left me defenseless. Now, in my own father's house, I worked day and night as if I were less than human, scraping by to earn even a roof over my head.

The murmur of voices drew me closer, curiosity pulling me despite my fear. Setting the plate down, I dried my hands, tiptoeing to hear more. I needed to know-needed some understanding of why my life felt more like a punishment.

"Think he'll take her right away?" Lycril's voice dripped with satisfaction. "It's about time we made something of her."

My breath hitched. Made something of me?

Then, Richard, my father's deep, gruff tone: "Once he sees her, it's his call. And then we'll have enough to clear the debts."

Debts? And him? Who was he talking about? A sick dread twisted in my stomach. My pulse quickened, and I pressed myself against the wall to stay hidden.

But I wasn't alone.

"Well, well, sneaking around again, are we?" Enzo's voice slid through the silence, his gaze heavy with that unsettling, possessive gleam.

I tried to pull away as he cornered me, my body recoiling instinctively. "Enzo, please-"

But he grabbed my wrist, his grip strong, pulling me closer until his breath was hot against my cheek. "Just look at you," he whispered, his hand tracing the edge of my jaw. "Maybe I should be the one to take you off their hands."

My skin crawled. His eyes roved over me, igniting a disgust so deep I wanted to scream.

I yanked myself free, fury sparking in me just long enough to land a hard slap across his face. The sting in my palm was worth it as shock flashed across his face, but it vanished quickly, replaced by a snarl.

"Such a little wolf without claws." He spat at me, eyes blazing, and I could see it-the revenge glinting in his gaze. He would make me pay for that.

As though summoned by the noise, Lycril stormed out, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "And you," she snapped at me. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the kitchen?"

I tried to explain, but she was faster. Her hand struck my face, a slap that left my cheek burning and my head spinning.

"She was eavesdropping," Enzo said, his smirk returning. "Maybe you should teach her what happens to snoops."

Without warning, Lycril grabbed the edge of my hair, yanking me to the floor. "It's time you learned to stay out of things that don't concern you," she hissed, reaching for her favorite horsewhip. I could see Enzo's smirk deepening, and even Amanda lingered nearby, a cold satisfaction in her eyes. They all wanted me to suffer.

I struggled, desperate to break free, but they held me down. I couldn't breathe, could hardly see past the pain as she brought down the whip across my back. I bit my lip, determined not to give them the satisfaction of my screams, even as tears stung my eyes.

Then, my father's voice cut through the haze of pain. "Enough," he commanded, his presence looming in the doorway, his eyes cold and calculating. But the relief I felt was short-lived.

"Lie her flat on the floor," he said, his tone almost bored. "We don't want her to look too bruised. We're sending her to the NorthRidge pack in a few hours."

I froze, the words chilling me to the bone. NorthRidge pack?

I'd heard of it, of the infamous Alpha Xavier. Stories of his brutal conquests, his ruthlessness toward enemies, the chilling fate of those who crossed him-all of it was legend. And they were sending me to him?

My father crouched down beside me, his hand clamping onto my chin as he forced me to look into his cold, unfeeling eyes. "You're going to serve him, Freya. This is your chance to be worth something."

The horror settled in, its weight suffocating me. I choked out a plea, my words trembling. "Please, don't send me there. I'll do anything... anything, just don't make me go-"

But my words were futile. Lycril's laugh cut through, high-pitched and mocking. "You'll leave tonight, Freya. The Alpha is paying handsomely, and we'll be free of you."

My father released his grip, shoving me back. I crumpled onto the floor, the broken pieces of myself lying in their shadows. My head spun, the realization sinking deeper. This was my fate-to be handed off, traded like an object.

As I lay there, my cheek pressed against the cold floor, I could hear them, their voices fading as they left me alone.

But just before they disappeared completely, Lycril's words echoed: "Let's hope she lasts the night. They say he doesn't go easy on his new servants."

The darkness closed in, my pulse a slow, terrified beat. And somewhere, deep in that darkness, a whisper of resolve stirred.

Somehow, I would survive. And when I did, I would make them pay.