On The Alphas' Bed

On The Alphas' Bed.

Chapter 1

Amber Whyte.

"Prepare yourself and gather what is left of you, Amber. You have been traded to a vegetable Alpha to become his Breeder. His escorts will arrive shortly. You don't belong here anymore."

The bombshell dropped with an air of finality.

My fate flashed before my eyes and my heart shattered into millions of fragments.

Pale as a ghost as blood drained from my face in horror, my eyes drifted to my father, hoping for a change in his judgment.

Probably a chuckle to conclude that this was a prank.

Our eyes met.

My chest tightened. The air in my lungs hissed like steam.

He didn't even blink. No flicker of regret. No remorse. No apology. Just a stone-cold gaze that sealed my fate.

And just like that, I was sold off to a half-dead stranger like a bag of potatoes without my consent.

My world crumbled, but I refused to let a tear spill down my cheeks. It wouldn't change my miserable life and ugly future.

I remained quiet in the corner I was ordered to sit, my back arched uncomfortably against the cold wall, and my ass flat on the floor watching my family deliberate my future from the luxurious chairs like I wasn't there. Like I didn't matter. Because I didn't.

I was a plague wrapped in skin. The cursed child whose presence distributes bad luck. The forgotten child who lived in seclusion and abandonment.

But none of it was my fault. I didn't intend to take my mother's life shortly after delivery; deprive my father of his beloved wife and rob my twin sister of a mother figure.

I didn't mean for my mother to die shortly after I was born. And I was hated for that.

"This might come as a surprise to you but a huge debt is threatening to swallow the Pack. We need funds to organize the affairs of this Pack and ensure your sister's grand wedding." He explained that the firmness of his deep voice upheld the importance of his precious Pack over me, his flesh and blood.

How would I know about the drowning debt when I was left to rot in the attic all my life– alone, cold, starved, terrified.

Like a ghost, I was invisible– To my family. To the Pack.

No one knew about my existence except my father, twin sister, and grandmother. It was a deliberate and combined agreement.

For depriving him of seeing his beloved wife, my father vowed that my existence would be erased. The shadows would be my refuge.

Finally, a warm smile broke on my father's wrinkled face as his eyes sparkled with love. But it wasn't meant for me. His eyes darted towards my twin sister, Delilah who blushed sheepishly, occasionally throwing me death glares.

"You know I would do anything for you, pumpkin. I will give you a wedding that will be the talk of the town."

She gasped, her cheeks red from blushing so hard before shooting me another mocking glare.

"Thank you, Daddy. I love you."

I rolled my eyes, looking away into space as anger welled in my chest.

That evil bitch!

The audacity to snatch my mate and plan her wedding in my face!

A blend of anger and pain resurfaced on my face, causing my eyes to water.

The bastard I called my mate turned out to be a backstabbing son of a bitch!

A wave of nausea hit me as last night's scene replayed in my head. Delilah on all fours like a fucking dog. Butt cheeks spread wide like the gates of hell as Nathan plunged furiously from behind. Their filthy grunts and moans were deliberately deafening for me to hear.

Cum sprayed all over her face and her tongue stuck out hungrily to have a taste like a fucking thirsty bitch. Vengeful eyes winked wickedly at me before her middle finger extended in 'Fuck you'.

They didn't just betray me, they rubbed it on my face, knowing I was helpless.

Delilah never let me have anything good. She snatched it even before it got to me. She would do anything to see me suffer. Burn down the world just to spite me. Just to remind me how her hatred for me was lethal.

And Nathan? All those years of thinking he was the one– my saviour sent to end my miserable life by getting married to me. My happily ever after. He was busy getting fed with my sister's pussy.

Challenging him was the worst decision I've ever made. After a gruesome rejection, he reminded me how uptight I was– too conservative with a holier-than-thou attitude. My refusal to let him fuck me led to him cheating.

But I wanted to wait until marriage, do the right thing by saving myself for my mate.

I begged him...hard to mark me, to introduce himself as my mate to my parents, to get married to me and become his Luna. But he insisted on having a taste.

The kisses I planted on his cheeks whenever I snuck out of the attic were not enough; he wanted more, but for some weird reason, I didn't give in.

After a soul-crushing rejection that left me consumed in pain, he hurled disgusting words at me.

"You are just a naive virgin and no man will ever find you desirable."

"There is more water in the desert than there is in between your legs."

"Kissing you feels like I'm kissing a corpse.

"Sandpaper is more pleasing to touch than your body."

Those horrible words were alive in my head, sending me crashing with pain.

If only he knew that I was a filthy sex-starved slut. I craved to be used, wrecked, owned, and marked by dominating forces. To have my wet hole ravaged by monstrous cocks.

But for the sake of morals, I buried that dark side of me.

But I'll be damned if his words didn't cut deep into me. If it didn't wake up a version of me that had been in deep sleep.

Today marked the end of my good girl Era. My slutty dirty side has arisen, never to be buried anymore.

One by one all those harsh words he told me would be proved wrong. I would make him regret it.

I swear on my mother's grave.

"Get out!" My father's cold order pulled me from my train of thought.

I rose from the corner where I sat, turning to leave until Delilah's sneer stopped me.

"This is the only time your stupid ass is useful. You better not screw things up and ruin daddy's plan to give me my dream wedding or I will harvest your heart from your body and leave it in the open field for vultures to feed on." She threatened through gritted teeth. Her canines threatened to slip out.

It didn't bother me. I was used to it. But I was more concerned about proving Nathan wrong.

I had barely gone past the meeting room when I swerved in the direction of the attic and bumped hard into a rigid figure.

He dove into action, sweeping me off my feet before I fell to the ground.

I froze when I regained balance. Too shocked to utter a word. Too excited to think straight.

The scent of fresh pines that invaded my nostrils sent wrong signals in-between my legs.

There he stood in the shadows. Towering. Deadly. Drop-dead gorgeous. Like a beast in human skin. Clad in nothing but Black boots, black T-shirt, black leather jacket with his hair finger brushed and swept across his face, he made my pussy leap for joy.

That moment I knew I belonged to him.

Those eyes that made me wet without being touched. Lips that look like sin. Jawline sharp like a fucking dagger. Dick massive enough to ruin me.

But then, I realized who he was supposed to be.

"You are not a vegetable?" I gasped, overtaken by surprise as I looked behind him to be certain my eyes weren't deceiving me.

His response? A smirk dark enough to make me drop to my knees.

Fuck!

I could feel it gathering.

The creamy pool of my juices. It was a matter of seconds before I started dripping uncontrollably.

My thighs pressed against each other, trying to suppress my urge. All I could think of was the feel of his moist tongue against my hardened nipples.

It wasn't up to ten seconds before I felt something trickling.

That was fast.

A long line of warm liquid travelled from my thigh to my legs.

He saw it. He smelt it. My arousal. He knew his presence affected me. His eyes darkened with desire and canality.

I was about to melt in shame when he did something mesmerizing– something out of this world.

Staining his fingers with my juices, he lifted them in the air, to eye level. Paused for a split second.

His fingers moved in slow motion, sliding onto his wet tongue. He licked them with a look of satisfaction.

"Already wet for me, little dove?"

My breath hung in my throat as my pussy throbbed hungrily.

"Be careful what you wish for, little dove. I could ruin you beyond redemption."

Chapter 2.

Amber Whyte Pov.

One second he made my cunt showered. Trembled. Tightened.

My thong was useless, soaked with my juices.

Then I blinked. Too fast. And he was gone.

My stomach dropped. My hands wrapped around my small frame in despair. I was alone. Aching with need.

Dried precum glistened on my thighs.

Then I heard it. Footsteps. Heavy. Descending towards me.

My breath caught in my throat as Delilah and my grandmother came into view. Eyes like fire, burning against my skin with disgust.

"Come with us." Her voice slashed the silence.

I found myself outside, walking miles away from the Pack. Nodding absent-mindedly to her words.

Like a lamb, I trod obediently to the secret garden while they followed closely behind.

I had been promised a peaceful departure. A compulsory family tradition that I just found out about.

They called it a blessing. To ward off evil. To ensure a safe and happy life wherever I find myself.

According to my grandma, since I was family, it was mandatory to send me off with blessings. Hers and my father's.

I was silent, yet a million thoughts bombarded my mind. It was pure chaos in my head.

"You are one of us, child."

My grandma's soft, yet firm voice replayed in my head, healing my wounded heart.

It struck me with disbelief. Her soft eyes, her thin lips stretched in a faint smile. Her calm words.

For the first time since birth, she addressed me as 'child'. Not bitch. Not little demon. Not plague. Her child. As if that was not enough she acknowledged me as family.

My heart almost burst from excitement. Tears formed beneath my eyes as I marched along the bushy path that led to the enclosed private garden– not from pain, but from emotions. Raw emotions that dragged down my spine like invisible fingers.

All my life, I've waited, prayed, yelled, begged, fought just to be acknowledged as their child. Just to be called one of them. Just to be loved. To be seen. To be heard. To miss. To be afraid to lose.

But it took me over eighteen years to be granted that wish.

Damn. It felt good to be cherished. To be recognized as a part of a whole.

But why the hell was Delilah here?

Didn't she threaten to rip my heart out a few hours ago?

I shrugged my shoulders, relaxing the terrified part of me.

Grandma must have talked out her hatred for me. Maybe she now loves me in her own twisted kind of way.

The lonely path soon led to a desolate cliff clearing. It was dangerously high, it triggered my acrophobia.

Panic seized me as I stumbled back after witnessing a large body of water stretching beyond eye level, waiting patiently beneath the giant cliff.

One wrong move and it was death. Swift. Painful. Merciless.

This doesn't look like a garden. Where the hell were we?

Most importantly, "Where is Dad?" I asked when I found my voice, backing away from the edge of the cliff as dizziness started to kick in.

I turned to see Delilah and my grandmother closing in dangerously. Their steps daring. Deliberate. Heavy with meaning.

Their venomous eyes and wicked grins exposed their true intentions.

I understood at once. The pretense and warm words. It was all a facade that I foolishly fell for.

Like a lamb, I was led to slaughter.

Like a prey, I felt helpless, cornered, small.

"You don't need to worry about Dad because he won't see your sick face anymore. That's a huge favour," Delilah squealed like a rat. A high-pitched giggle escaped her lips in excitement.

Psycho.

Before I could utter a plea, a pair of hands jammed in my chest, pushing me off with full force, causing me to stumble at first before losing balance.

The ground beneath my feet gave way, causing a free fall as the shattered rocks plunged deep into the sea.

My mouth parted in a deafening scream as my eyes flashed before my eyes.

I swore my stomach jumped into my throat as goosebumps broke out on my bare skin.

But then. Mid air, my fingers clung to something stiff and rocky at the edge of the cliff. But I couldn't heave a sigh of relief. Not yet.

Not when half my body was dangling over the large body of water that waited patiently to swallow me whole. Not when my shaky fingers clung desperately to the sharp edge of the cliff maintaining a firm grip.

I couldn't breathe. My lungs gave out. I didn't dare move. Death loomed over me. It was everywhere. Above. Below.

"Please, you don't have to do this. We are family, remember? And I am one of you."

Their laughter roared in my ear. A blend of mockery and disgust. Eyes widened without a glimpse of remorse.

I understood.

I couldn't break into their stony hearts with warm words.

My survival depleted every passing second.

Still hanging by a thread as I froze amid air, I begged to be saved.

But I was met with sharp cold gazes that cut through me like a dagger. A cold sneer that wrapped my fate. None of their eyes held a sliver of guilt.

"Goodbye, Amber. Burn in hell!" Delilah's face twisted to a terrifying scorn that could send a shiver down the devil's spine.

"Apologies to the devil for sending you a little too late," My grandma added, her voice emotionless as usual.

I didn't get to take my next breath before her strong feet kicked my fingers off the cliff. With proud smiles worn on their faces, they watched me plummet into the vast sea, eyes pinned to them in regret and my back hitting the water first.

The last sound I heard was the echoes of their deafening laughter as they walked away triumphantly like they had gotten rid of the unwanted problem in their lives. A thorn in their flesh.

*****

My feet broke in a race as I dashed into the Pack house panting hard.

Yes. I escaped death narrowly.

Before sinking into the unforgiving sea, in the battle of survival and desperation, my fingers caught a small branch. At the foot of the cliff.

Climbing the cliff was a herculean task. My body ended up bruised from sharp stones and small rocks.

But I survived.

I flung the door open, walking past the halls as I strode deeper into the heart of the Packhouse, searching for them. The betrayers.

As I neared the direction of the meeting room, celebration sounds hung faintly in the air.

I paused, leaning against the door with my ears resting to catch any sound.

Roars of laughter descended like a storm. My father's.

But it was strange. Nothing amuses him except it was a celebration.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, I flung the doors open, storming into the meeting room like I was possessed.

But then, I felt it.

I felt him, his scent, his terrifying figure, his eyes, his lips.

My pussy pulsed even without seeing him.

Fuck.

It was like he was everywhere, in my filthy mind, in my aching pussy, in my bones.

Heat slowly rose from my body as I clenched my thighs hard, swallowing the desire lodged behind my throat.

Fuck. Not here. Not now. Not before everyone.

And then our eyes locked. My knees buckled. I almost collapsed on the floor as my breath hitched in excitement.

Then I started to feel it. My creamy arousal tucked in the pocket of my pussy.

Just then...something catastrophic occurred.

"Mate," Delilah whispered in confirmation. Her eyes glowed in excitement as she threw herself into his strong arms, wrapping her slender arms around his neck.

I almost went mad in shock.

My arousal dried up. My excitement was replaced with anger, betrayal, jealousy, and sadness.

I wanted to die. The ache in my chest burned like flaming fire.

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

But I stood tall, fighting the tears that glistened in my amber eyes.

He saw it. But he didn't move. He didn't bat an eyelid at Delilah either. I could feel him contemplating.

That moment, I felt torn from him. Like a part of me had been forcefully taken.

It made sense now. The reason Delilah wanted me dead. To claim him. To erase me.

She stole him, just to spite me. Just like she did with Nathan.

But this time was different. He was her mate.

What sick games was the Moon goddess playing?

Fuck. Delilah.

She won. Again.

The anger that welled up in my chest was quenched. My body ached from climbing the rocks. I just wanted to nap and never wake up. That was the only way I would find peace

But then, a pair of hands grabbed my hair roughly, hard enough to make me cry out in pain.

Behind me were Delilah and my grandmother, a blend of undiluted rage, shock, and fear crawled on their pale faces.

"When I killed you, you were supposed to stay dead, not resurrect like fucking Lazarus," she spat, her whisper cut through me like a blade.

"Remind me to bring my gun, next time." My grandma added before groaning in anger. Then her eyes found me, stabbing my skin with rage and hatred. "Some people need to be taught how to stay dead."

Typical grandma.

"Let me go!" I fought back, wrestling with the little strength left in me as I pulled away from her grip.

She walked towards my father, whispering incoherent words in his ears while he nodded affirmatively. I turned to crawl into the attic where I belonged.

These people made me sick.

"Not so fast, bitch!" Her voice snapped, stopping me.

"Daddy just gave me permission to take you in as my maid since I'll be leaving for my mate's Pack. So gather your filthy belongings...that's if you have any." Her voice was laced in mockery. My grandma chuckled, giving her a high-five.

"No! Daddy, please," I fought back, tears spilling down my eyes, but my father won't budge. "You can't do this."

Delilah's fingers fastened around my neck as she cocked her head to my ears.

"Welcome to your personal hell. You are my bitch now!"

Chapter 3

Amber Whyte.

That ugly moment marked my entry into the Thunderstorm Pack. It was the last time I laid my eyes on my father and grandmother.

Not like they cared. They were glad the cursed child they harbored was gone.

And just like that, I became Delilah's personal slave– her favourite punching bag, her toy for starvation, abuse, unending suffering, and punishment.

After every bruise, every slap, every torture, she didn't fail to remind me of my place in this Pack. In her words, "permanently beneath my feet for the rest of your pathetic life."

Days dragged into weeks, each slower than the last. My spirit frayed. My soul was worn out. My body was plastered with exhaustion. Bone-deep exhaustion.

I didn't know how much of this torture I could take. I wake up every day hoping it will be my last.

Still, I was here. In the Thunderstorm Pack. Still within the reach of my twin sister and her mate, Alpha Elion.

My pussy clenched hard at the mention of his name. Elion.

Even in his absence, he made my clit throb shamelessly.

My mouth watered as I pictured him towering above me like he does. Silent. Those icy blue eyes were watching, stalking, undressing me until there was nothing left. His head spiraled with thoughts I wish I could get a hint of. His hands balled in fists by his sides as his claws seeped through his flesh.

One time, I spotted a trail of blood on his lips and fist after he stared at me too much while I was not looking.

Other days, it was his scent, his shadow, his eyes that followed me while I was engrossed in my daily chores. Before I could turn back to look, his presence was gone, as if he had never been there.

But the smell of fresh pine remained with me. Confirming my doubts. He was always there gawking quietly– in the dark, in broad daylight, in the rain, in the shadows, across the private garden, from above; second-floor balcony, during breakfast, when I served dinner.

Those dark carnal eyes never left me.

That was when I realized.

He wanted me as much as I wanted him.

Maybe he was fighting hard to keep his hands to himself after our last encounter.

Too bad...he was already mated to my sister and they just concluded the ceremony a few hours ago.

Delilah had been introduced to the Pack and Elders as the Luna of Thunderstorm Pack.

There was no fucking way in hell I would be entangled with him.

My words may be firm, but my body betrayed me.

I want him. All of him to myself.

My soaked kitty was ready for him, to stretch until it accommodated his massive length.

My lips bled daily from being clenched too hard whenever we were close to each other.

My body was on fire and only his ginormous cock could quench it.

He was the key to ending this insatiable hunger that clawed my pussy mercilessly.

But he was not mine. Not mine to touch. Not mine to fuck.

I would be a liar if I claimed I was fine with him being my sister's mate.

For the first time, I wanted what my sister owned. I envied what she adored.

I was exhausted. Not from Delilah's torment. From Elion.

My pussy grew angry each day it was deprived of his sugar-coated cock.

My body plunged into madness without his touch.

I was in hell. But I was helpless.

He was my twin sister's mate. Elion.

He was off-limits.

He was the forbidden fruit I was taught not to eye.

He was my daily obsession.

The thought made me sick. Yet, I craved him like a drug.

Hissing tiredly as I adjusted the cleaning supplies in my hands, I stopped briefly before two staircases.

My eyes dropped in confusion.

One would lead me to the store where supplies are being kept, but I wasn't sure where the other would lead me.

Since I was pretty new, I had not mastered every nook and cranny in this gigantic Packhouse. Penelope, a friendly maid, was yet to take me on a tour and show me where to avoid and the restricted areas.

My eyes returned to the flight of stairs again as I tried to recall Penelope's instructions.

I couldn't.

Fuck!

I groaned, anger and fatigue seeping into my chest.

Delilah's introduction ceremony left me weak as jelly. For a week, she made sure I set out the necessary arrangements, including scrubbing and decorating the large banquet hall. The worst of all, prepping her ball gowns.

It was one of her humiliations to rub the happiness that I craved on my face.

Here I was exhausted to the bones, trying to navigate my way to avoid being lost.

I settled on the first staircase that took me to the second floor, struggling with the heavy supplies.

Blinking back the sleepiness that clouded my eyes, I forced them open to avoid falling and creating unnecessary noise, especially when it was midnight.

Ten steps into the second floor and something struck me.

A sound. Weird ones. Familiar ones.

Like the continuous slapping of bare flesh against flesh. Deafening. Angry.

Accompanied by a cry. Loud. Feminine.

It was a blend of pain, pleasure, and struggle.

Then panting. Hard and fast. Animalistic.

I should have turned back and taken to my heels. But driven by curiosity, I strode deeper until the sounds were deafening and haunting.

As if possessed, I dropped the supplies on the floor as quietly as I could, following the sound until it led me behind a door.

It was slightly ajar.

"Please, it hurts...don't stop..." Delilah's cries penetrated the silence of the night.

That was when I understood.

That was when I saw the moment I peeked closer and watched through the space.

Delilah was wet from sweat, from arousal, from tears. Spread on the massive bed, naked, like an offering. Her hands cuffed to the sides of the bed, giving her no room for comfort.

Elion was above her, naked in all his glory. His hands were glued to her narrow waist, keeping it firmly in place.

His hips rotated in a circular motion. With speed, agility, with the rhythm of their sharp breaths.

His muscles flexed with every thrust, every push into her womb.

I swallowed, leaning closer as my eyes sparked with desire. With lust. With want. My thighs pressed hard against each other as he plunged deeply into her raining hole.

My lustful eyes dropped.

That was when I saw. His ginormous cock. It was the biggest. Wildest. Out of my imagination. More monstrous than Nathan's. Nothing came close. Not even the side of my forearm.

I caught myself drooling over the impossible length as they burrowed furiously into Delilah's stretched pussy, causing her to break into tears so hard, her thighs shivered with pain.

But he wasn't done.

And I wasn't done watching.

My body wiggled slowly and my core tightened with each thrust. His cock was now shimmering with Delilah's fluid.

My teeth sank into my lips and my fingers slowly grazed over my pussy through the soft fabric.

I was dripping. Leaking over the spot I curled up in, wiggling with pleasure.

Fuck!

It should be me he was slamming into.

His massive cock in my wet hole.

My hands bound in a cuff. My body beneath his.

Stifling a moan, I clasped my hand over my mouth, clenching my pussy hard as I began to rock myself slowly. Steadily.

Without warning, he turned.

I gasped. My breath was caught in my throat. Caught off-balance, I dropped to the floor noisily. My heart pounded against my ribs.

"Who's there?!"