CHAINED BY THE ALPHA

BIANCA'S POV

"Why would a lovely damsel like you be heading to a hellhole like Dartmoor Island?"

The captain's voice pulled me from my trance. I stood at the edge of the railing, watching the dark waves crash against the hull.

The sharp wind struck my ankles. I shivered.

"I simply have no other way to go," I whispered. "I don't have options."

I tried to keep my voice steady, but the dread was overwhelming. Tears threatened to spill, hot and stinging against the cold sea spray.

The captain, an old-school human with a thick white beard, studied me.

His eyes dropped lower. He wasn't looking at my curves. He was staring at the jagged scar that ran from my neck down to my chin.

I pulled my coat tighter.

"You seem like the sort that is running from something," he said, his voice rough but not unkind. "Everything about you screams fear."

"Fear is all I have left," I replied.

He turned his gaze toward the horizon, where a dark landmass was rising from the mist.

"Dartmoor Island is pure heaven if you like chaos," he muttered. "It's been a long time since I docked there. Not since the uprising."

"What happened?" I asked.

I needed to know. This was going to be my new home. My prison.

"It used to be where Calabria sent their worst. Dangerous criminals. Shifters. Vampires. The superintendents held them down for fifteen years."

He paused, spitting into the ocean.

"But the detainees coordinated. They went after Port Louis. Now? The inmates run the asylum. It is a dangerous place to live, girl. I advise you to turn back. Come back with us."

I shook my head slowly.

"There is no life for me in Calabria. Not anymore."

"You could choose a different island," he pressed. "Anywhere but Dartmoor."

"I am a shifter," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "I don't expect you to understand."

A rogue without a pack was nothing. Worse than garbage. At least on Dartmoor, no one would ask why I wasn't protected by my family.

Dartmoor was the last resort for people who had nothing left to lose.

"Alright," the captain sighed, scratching his beard. "Best advice? Travel west. Find the Centro Villa. They are the only reasonable people left."

"I'll see to that."

"Excuse me, Miss."

A sailor called out to him, and the captain walked away, leaving me alone with my ghosts.

I looked back at the water, and suddenly, I wasn't on the ship anymore.

My mind dragged me back to the moment that broke me.

THREE DAYS AGO........

It was my twenty-fifth birthday. It was supposed to be the start of my life.

I remembered the morning clearly. My human mother and my wolf-shifter dad smiling at me. The cake. The target practice with Clara.

I was happy.

Sure, my dad didn't have high status because he mated with a human. The pack whispered that he had "weakened" the bloodline. They called me a mutt.

But I had shifted. It took me until my twenties, much later than the purebloods, but I had a wolf. I belonged.

Or so I thought.

We arrived at the Mating Ball just before the full moon rose.

The air was thick with anticipation. Every unbonded wolf was waiting for that snap. That pull.

And then I saw him.

Jack Gilmore. The Beta's son.

He walked in with three of his friends, looking like a god among mortals. Olive skin. Long brown hair.

Our eyes locked.

Lightning.

It struck me so hard I nearly stumbled. My wolf howled in my head.

He was mine. The most attractive man I had ever seen was mine.

I walked toward him, a blissful smile stretching across my face. I waited for him to close the distance. I waited for him to pull me into his arms.

Instead, his lip curled.

Disgust. Pure, unadulterated disgust.

I froze.

"The mate bond?" Jack laughed, a cruel, barking sound. "You? You're not even a purebred."

He waved his hand in the air as if wafting away a bad smell.

"I don't see this happening," he sneered.

Behind him, his friends started to snicker. The sound grated on my ears.

"Jack?" I whispered. "I... I'm your mate."

"I won't get myself into this! Never!" he yelled, his voice booming over the music.

The room went silent. Everyone was watching.

"Jack, please," I tried to defend myself, but my wolf was already whimpering. She knew. She felt the rejection coming before the words left his mouth.

He stepped closer, towering over me. His eyes, which should have been filled with love, were cold and dead.

"I can't risk producing another mutt in my bloodline," he spat. "I would rather not mate with you."

He took a breath, raising his voice so the Alpha on the balcony could hear.

"I, Jack Gilmore, reject you, Bianca."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I didn't just fall. I crumbled.

My knees hit the marble floor with a sickening crack. I clutched my chest, gasping for air. It felt like someone had reached inside my ribs, torn out my heart, and crushed it in front of me.

"Pathetic," Jack muttered.

Tears poured from my eyes like waterfalls. I opened my mouth to scream, to beg, but all that came out was a broken sob.

Jack just looked down at me, made a sickened face, and turned his back.

BIANCA'S POV

"Get this filthy thing out of my sight!"

Jack pointed a shaking finger at me, then at my parents. His disgust was palpable. It rolled off him in waves, suffocating me.

My father stepped forward, his chest heaving with rage.

"Watch your tone, boy," my father growled.

But it was a hollow threat. Jack was the Beta's son. My father was just a low-ranking wolf who dared to love a human.

Jack's lip curled, and he took a deliberate step back, as if proximity to me might contaminate him. The crowd pressed closer, their whispers rising like a swarm of hornets.

Some faces showed pity. Some showed satisfaction.

They'd been waiting for this moment-waiting to see the half-breed finally put in her place.

My mother's hand found mine, squeezing so hard my bones ground together. Her human warmth was the only anchor keeping me from collapsing.

My best friend, Susanne, rushed forward. She grabbed my arm, her eyes blazing. I could see the curses forming on her lips.

I shook my head.

"Don't bother," I murmured, my voice dead. "It's over."

"What is happening here?"

The voice boomed across the square, silencing the music and the whispers.

The crowd parted. The Alpha approached.

He was a giant of a man with a shaggy beard and eyes like cold flint. He looked at me like I was a stain on his polished floor.

"I will not accept her as my mate," Jack stated, puffing out his chest. "She is a defect."

My wolf whimpered inside me, retreating to the darkest corner of my soul. Even she couldn't protect me from this.

I wiped my tears, daring to look up at the Alpha. I hoped for mercy.

"So, you refuse to mate with this... mutt?" the Alpha asked, his voice bored.

"I won't," Jack answered decisively. "I reject her."

The mate bond, already fragile from his rejection, shattered completely. Pain exploded through my chest, white-hot and merciless. My knees buckled, but Susanne caught me before I hit the ground.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Why, Moon Goddess? Why give me a mate just to let him destroy me?

"Then there is no place for the crossbreed in our pack."

The Alpha's words hit me harder than the rejection.

Exile.

My father lost control. He pushed past the guards, screaming.

"Why? On what basis are you dismissing my daughter?"

"I have tolerated your weak bloodline for too long," the Alpha sneered. "You brought this animal into our clan. She is neither human nor wolf. And if she is not worthy of her fated mate, she is worthy of nothing."

"She is my daughter!" my father roared.

"She is an abomination," the Alpha countered, his voice dropping to a lethal growl. "She leaves by sunset. Or she dies."

I touched the jagged scar on my cheek. The reminder of the time I fought marauders at the Flintwood Sugar Plantation. I had bled for this pack. I had fought for them.

And now, because I wasn't "pure," I was garbage.

PRESENT DAY

The ship slammed against the wharf, jolting me back to reality.

The memory faded, but the pain remained. It always did.

I grabbed my knapsack. It contained everything I owned in the world. A few clothes. A little money and a broken heart.

Three weeks at sea had done nothing to heal the wounds. If anything, the isolation had let them fester. Every night, I dreamed of Jack's sneer. Every morning, I woke to the phantom ache of a severed mate bond.

I stepped onto the rotting wood of the dock.

Dartmoor Island. The forbidden gem of the South Pacific. The dumpster for the unwanted.

The port was empty. The buildings were hollow shells, reclaimed by creeping vines and moss. It was quiet. Too quiet.

"Travel west," the captain had said. "Find the Centro Villa."

The captain's words were still on my mind. His advice reminded me not to expect much from the island's occupants.

He'd also warned me about something else-rogues. Dartmoor was a refuge for the rejected and the exiled, but not all of them were looking for redemption. Some had embraced their darkness.

The port buildings stood void, and the street I followed north was congested with vegetation.

Hopefully, soon I would find the street that extended west to the Belmont pack. I hoped they would accept me and wouldn't discard me like my former pack had done.

I hoped the Belmont pack would be different. I hoped they wouldn't care about my scar or my mixed blood.

Maybe I could just live alone in an isolated area.

The sun was already setting , painting the sky in shades of blood and crimson. I needed to find shelter before dark. The captain's final words echoed in my memory: "Whatever you do, girl, don't be caught outside after nightfall."

I had been walking for ten minutes when the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

My wolf stirred. I sensed something strange, danger was looming.

The hedges to my left didn't just rustle. They exploded.

Seven men emerged from the brush.

They wore ragged black vests and khaki shorts, dirt smeared across their chests. They didn't look like the "reasonable people" the captain had mentioned.

They looked like hunters.

I froze as they circled me. I sniffed the air.

Shifters.

But these weren't civilized pack wolves. Their eyes were yellow and wild, and their smiles were full of sharp, predatory teeth.

The leader stepped forward, blocking my path. He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my chest.

"Well, well," he licked his lips. "Look what the tide washed in. Fresh meat."

My hand moved to the silver knife hidden in my belt. The blade was small, but it was all I had. My wolf rose to the surface, ready to fight even if we couldn't win.

The leader's nostrils flared. He tilted his head, trying to figure out my next move.

"Wait." He leaned closer, inhaling deeply. "You're not pure wolf."

The others tensed, growls rumbling in their throats.

"Half-breed," one spat.

The leader's smile widened, showing too many teeth. "Even better. No pack to miss you. No one to come looking."

He reached for me.

That's when the gunshot cracked through the air.

BIANCA'S POV

I froze.

Panic clawed at my throat. It wasn't just that they were shifters. It was the look in their eyes.

Hunger and lust.

I took a step back, feeling a sudden weakness in my feet.

"She's a nice catch," one of them sneered again, licking his lips.

His tongue dragged across his bottom lip slowly, deliberately. The others chuckled, a sound like gravel scraping against bone. They weren't just threatening me-they were enjoying it.

I realized my mistake too late. Dartmoor was a prison island. Most of the convicts were male. A woman-even a scarred, rejected one like me-was a prize.

I'd been on Dartmoor for less than twenty minutes.

I tried to retreat, but the hedges behind me rustled. Two more men stepped out, blocking my path to the port.

Trapped.

My wolf snarled, urging me to shift, to fight. But I was outnumbered and exhausted from the journey. Even at full strength, I'd never faced odds like these.

"How fascinating," the leader purred, stepping closer.

He was big, with a thick mustache and biceps the size of tree trunks. The words "El Paso" were inked into his skin.

He looked at me like I was a meal he couldn't wait to devour.

"Stay back!" I yelled, dropping my backpack.

My hand found the silver knife at my belt. I pulled it free, the blade catching the dying sunlight. It was a pathetic weapon against nine shifters, but it was all I had.

I calculated the odds. Nine male shifters. One half-breed female who barely knew how to fight.

I was screwed.

"Ooh, she's got claws," one of the men mocked, his voice dripping with amusement. "I like them feisty."

"Don't be like that, sweetheart," El Paso laughed.

He reached for me, but a low growl vibrated through the air, stopping him cold.

The sound came from everywhere and nowhere, resonating in my chest. It was primal. Ancient. The kind of growl that made even predators remember they could be prey.

A truck roared up the road, screeching to a halt. Two men jumped out.

The air shifted instantly.

The first man was massive, shirtless, with elaborate dark tattoos covering his chest. He looked like a war god carved from marble.

But it was the second man who stole the air from my lungs.

He wasn't as bulky as the tattooed giant, but he radiated power. He had wavy hair and a face so handsome it hurt to look at him. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes a piercing amber that seemed to see straight through to my soul.

Everything about him screamed danger. Authority. Alpha.

My wolf stirred. 'Pay attention', she whispered urgently, practically clawing her way to the surface.

I couldn't look away from him even if I wanted to. Something invisible pulled at my chest, like a hook lodged between my ribs.

"Logan," the tattooed giant cheered, cracking his knuckles. "Nice seeing you here."

"I can't say the same," Logan the leader of the gang surrounding me spat back. "This is my catch."

The wavy-haired stranger ignored Logan completely. His eyes locked onto mine.

He froze.

His mouth parted slightly, shock flooding his features. He stared at me, his gaze burning into my soul. He didn't look at my scar. He looked... right at me. Into me. Like he could see every broken piece I'd tried to hide.

For a heartbeat, the world fell away. The threatening rogues. The tattooed giant. Even my fear. There was only him and the inexplicable electricity crackling between us.

I flushed, wanting to hide. I didn't want him to see me. I was broken. Rejected goods. Why was he looking at me like I was something precious?

"That lady," the wavy-haired man said.

His voice was deep, commanding. It wasn't a request. It was an Alpha command that resonated with power.

It sent shivers down my spine, and my wolf practically purred in response. Traitor.

"Hand her over," he ordered.

Logan laughed, but it sounded nervous. Even he could feel the shift in power. "I saw her first. She's mine."

"Yours?" The wavy-haired man took a step forward, his eyes flashing dangerously.

The amber in his irises began to glow, his wolf rising to the surface. The temperature seemed to drop, and every rogue took an involuntary step backward.

"Mine!" Logan roared, desperation bleeding into his voice.

Chaos erupted.

"Take her to the truck!" Logan screamed at his men. "Go! Now!"

Logan shifted mid-air, his bones cracking as he turned into a massive wolf, throwing himself at the newcomers to buy time.

I didn't get to see the fight.

Two of Logan's goons grabbed me, their fingers digging painfully into my arms.

"No!" I screamed, kicking and scratching. "Let me go!"

I drove my elbow into one's ribs, heard the satisfying crack, but the other backhanded me across the face. Blood filled my mouth.

"Shut up, bitch!"

They didn't care about my struggle. They tossed me into the back of the truck like a sack of potatoes.

My head slammed against the metal floor, stars dancing in my vision. Pain exploded through my skull, and for a moment, everything went white.

"Drive!" one of them yelled, slamming the doors shut.

The engine roared, and the truck peeled away, leaving the wavy-haired man behind.

Through the haze of pain, I heard something that chilled me to the bone-a roar of pure rage that didn't sound entirely human.

I scrambled to the back window, looking out as we sped away. My vision swam, but I forced myself to focus.

Through the dust, I saw the wavy-haired man rip a wolf apart with his bare hands. Blood sprayed across his chest, but he didn't stop. He looked up, his eyes locking on the retreating truck.

Even at this distance, I felt his gaze like a physical touch.

He roared-a sound of pure fury that shook the trees. Birds scattered from their perches. The ground itself seemed to tremble.

He was coming for me.

But as the truck turned a corner and darkness swallowed me, I realized something terrifying.

I had escaped one monster only to be stolen by another. And on Dartmoor Island, no one heard you scream.