Chapter 2 Nancy Was Ordered

''I thank you all for your attention, sitting to listen to me'' Dad expressed joy while holding his packet of cigarettes.

"The person you see here is my daughter, and not just my daughter, but my only daughter. I hold her in high esteem. She's all that I got and should be treated with honor and dignity"

Nan is very obedient. That's what we call her. Nan." Dad tells the Wolf Master. "She does what you tell her to do, she never disobeys."

He ruffles my hair, the action more rough than affectionate.

"Her wolf is fully submissive, an Omega if ever there was one." He pulls me into his side, making me feel like the best on earth.

Even though I'm no Omega and Dad knows it, I keep my mouth shut. Now is really not the time to stand up for myself.

"Nancy can cook, clean, and hunt, and she has a good head on her shoulders,"

Dad continues. "Worth her weight in gold, this one." Usually, I'm the useless screw-up, so you can't blame me for being shocked that Dad is suddenly singing a different tone, gold, this one."

He changed his narrative and feelings towards me, and I was really wondering. Though to please him, he was saying all!

DMC doesn't seem to like what he's hearing either, or maybe he's just fed up with listening. He was busy facing the ground and acting like I was not relevant to him, but something else.

He's actually getting more pissed off by the second, which doesn't even seem possible. His entire body is shaking, as if it takes considerable effort for him not to go in for the kill.

"Is she ready now?" he growls and gives me the once-over. I shudder and draw my arms closer to my sides, trying to look smaller, more submissive. The wolf equivalent of "please don't hurt me; I'll do whatever you say."

"She's worth much more than seven thousand dollars, so you're actually getting yourself a real bargain," Dad adds, and my eyes widen.

Seven thousand dollars? How in the hell did he manage to get indebted to such a giant sum? I look between Dad and DMC and some of what's happening starts to make sense.

Dad got himself into a mess, and now he wants me to clean it up. He mentioned cool, cleaning, and hunting, and it's not like he ever does any of those himself.

Seven thousand dollars, though? How long would I have to work for DMC to settle that kind of debt? Months or years? It is perplexing, and I can't imagine the role I will play that will make me pay off such debt.

I'm pretty good at math, so I try to work it all out in my head. I get paid minimum wage at the diner, and I doubt DMC would pay me any more than that.

So I'd have to work around two thousand hours, and if I put in forty hours a week, that would be... crap, I have no idea. I can't count on the spot like this! Not with DMC growling at me and ready to strike.

All I know is that it will take a long time. A whole year if I may say? Or even two years, maybe much longer than that? Seven thousand dollars! Plus, what would happen to my small business at the food stand?

I can't do both! Will Dad make me quit my business? How do I handle the situation at hand? Just that he sold off some lands given to him on pledge, and used the money for frivolities.

The owner was on his neck, and he went and borrowed money at a high interest rate but could not pay as when due. Dad did not calculate well.

He is such a lackadaisical kind of person. His way of life has put him in trouble. "What would I want her for?" DMC asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Housekeeper? Slave? She doesn't care," Dad responds. "She'll do whatever you tell her to. She's a hard worker, so she'll earn her keep, and then some." DMC says nothing, and Dad sighs. "Look, I could probably sell her for much more than that if I want to."

I gasp as the shock of what Dad is saying begins to sink in. He doesn't want me to work for DMC. He wants to sell me to DMC on the grounds of arranged marriage or contract marriage! Sell me! Like I'm a piece of property, is that even legal?

"Maybe this is all just a bad dream. Any second now, I'll snap out of it and realize I fell asleep doing homework. I pinch my hand, desperate to wake up, but the nightmare only keeps getting worse.

Just give me a couple of days and I'll get you your money." Dad laughs. "How hard is it to sell a young girl? She's a virgin too, you know. Or I think she is?"

Dad gives me a questioning look, but I just stand there, horrified. This can't be happening! "If I take her," DMC growls, "you will have no say in what I do with her. You will never see your daughter again. I will make her my own, except that the debt is cleared in the agreed-upon time. She is standing as collateral.

You'll never speak to her, write to her, or have any contact with her until all conditions are met! Is that understood?" DMC takes a step toward Dad and us, and tightens his hold around my shoulder.

"Of course" He nods, the scent of triumph replacing the hope and worry that I smelled on him earlier. "She's all yours."

"Very well." DMC growls. "I will forgive your debt in due course."

"I knew you'd see things my way," Dad smirks, and I shudder.

This is not happening. Dad did not just sell me to someone! Is this a joke? Did he get one of his buddies to play along so he could have a few laughs at my expense?

I wouldn't put it past him, but DMC looks pretty serious, and somehow I can't see him as one of Dad's beer-drinking, card-playing friends.

I know Dad doesn't like me, but he's still my father! I never imagined he would do something so despicable.

Furthermore, I thought that if I could stand him until I finished high school, I'd get out of here, away from this run-down house and this awful small town.

If I'd known Dad was going to sell me and make me someone's slave, I would have run away years ago. The deed is done already. I have been sold off without my knowledge. It's so incredible and pathetic.

Suddenly, I just want to get as far away from this nightmare as possible. I need to shift, to escape... to run and never stop. I try to pull away from Dad, but he's holding on to me with an iron grip.

Furthermore, I fight against him and almost break free, but DMC grabs my other shoulder. His grip isn't painful, but it's strong, and he has no trouble holding me in place.

"Nancy," DMC spits out, and I hate the way he makes the beautiful name my mom gave me sound. "If you try to run, I will track you down, and it won't be pretty for you or your father."

DMC growls, and I freeze, his menacing glare making me tremble. His arm is still on me, and I shudder in disgust.

"You will go to your room and pack your things," DMC orders and lets go of me. Dad does too, and it takes everything I have to force myself not to make a run for it. "If you try to leave, I will hear you. If you attempt to escape, I will punish you.

I don't respond. It's all too much. Dad just sold me to a violent, scary, pissed off Wolf. I can only hope that I'm going to be a housekeeper and not something disgusting, like a sex slave. He may not be bad looking for an old guy, but still. Gross!

I can't handle this. I just can't. Furthermore, I start to shake my head, but then DMC shouts the order, "Do what you're told. now!"

His voice is laced with authority, and instinct propels me up the passage to my bedroom. I pick up my duffel bag on autopilot and begin to pack up my stuff before I have time to process what's happening.

Dad told me that Dons, and occasionally Betas, can have this sort of it over Wolves; that it can be hard, or even impossible, to disobey them.

I just never believed him because it sounded so far-fetched. I figured he was exaggerating, or maybe just making the whole thing up to mess with order, but if I'd known this was for real, I would have taken the training a lot more seriously.

I take deep breaths and clear my mind the way Dad taught me, and the effect of DMC's order starts to dissipate. Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to climb out the window and run. I'm fast, both in wolf and human form, after all the practice I've had running from Dad.

The man may be in horrible shape, but his wolf is lean and strong. It's weird how that works, but we have to exercise in both forms if we want to stay in shape.

Still, Dad and I are rogues, so we're much weaker than other Wolves. That's why no pack has ever wanted us. Even if I can outrun Dad, I'm probably a snail compared to DMC.

Plus, he's expecting me to run, so he's ready to give chase. Once he catches me, he might kill me on the spot, beat the crap out of me, torture me, or worse. As he warned me, it won't be pretty.

If I'm going to escape, I need to bide my time. If I act weak and obedient, DMC will lower his guard. Then, when the time is right, I will make a run for it. I just hope it won't be too late. I will definitely find my way out of his home, and in no time I will carry out my plans adequately. Many will be shocked at what I will do.

Suddenly, I just want to get as far away from this nightmare as possible. I need to shift, to escape to run and never stop. I try to pull away from Dad, but he's holding on to me with an iron grip.

Furthermore, I fight against him and almost break free, but DMC grabs my other shoulder.

His grip isn't painful, but it's strong, and he has no trouble holding me in place.

"Nancy," DMC spits out, and I hate the way he makes the beautiful name my mom gave me sound. "If you try to run,

I will track you down, and it won't be pretty for you or your father." DMC growls, and I freeze, his menacing glare making me tremble. His arm is still on me, and I shudder in disgust.

"You will go to your room and pack your things," DMC orders and lets go of me. Dad does too, and it takes everything I have to force myself not to make a run for it. "If you try to leave, I will hear you. If you attempt to escape, I will punish you.

I didn't respond. It's all too much. Dad just sold me to a violent, scary, pissed off Wolf. I can only hope that I'm going to be a housekeeper and not something disgusting, like a sex slave. He may not be bad looking for an old guy, but still. Gross!

I can't handle this. I just can't. Furthermore, I start to shake my head, but then DMC shouts the order, "Do what you're told. now!"

His voice is laced with authority, and instinct propels me up the passage to my bedroom. I pick up my duffel bag on autopilot and begin to pack up my stuff before I have time to process what's happening.

Dads told me that Dons, and occasionally Betas, can have this sort of DMC over Wolves; that it can be hard, or even impossible, to disobey them.

I just never believed him because it sounded so far-fetched. I figured he was exaggerating, or maybe just making the whole thing up to mess with order, but if I'd known this was for real, I would have taken the training a lot more seriously.

I take deep breaths and clear my mind the way Dad taught me, and the effect of DMC's order starts to dissipate. Suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to climb out the window and run. I'm fast, both in wolf and human form, after all the practice I've had running from Dad.

The man may be in horrible shape, but his wolf is lean and strong. It's weird how that works, but we have to exercise in both forms if we want to stay in shape.

Still, Dad and I are rogues, so we're much weaker than other Wolves. That's why no pack has ever wanted us. Even if I can outrun Dad, I'm probably a snail compared to DMC.

Plus, he's expecting me to run, so he's ready to give chase. Once he catches me, he might kill me on the spot, beat the crap out of me, torture me, or worse. As he warned me, it won't be pretty.

If I'm going to escape, I need to bide my time. If I act weak and obedient, DMC will lower his guard. Then, when the time is right, I will make a run for it.

I just hope it won't be too late. I will definitely find my way out of his home, and in no time, I will carry out my plans adequately. Many will be shocked at what I will do.