Sold To The Lycan King

BRIELLE'S POV

Banished! Banished! Banished!

Brielle looked down at her tattered clothes, and those were the only unruly words she heard.

As she was led out of the pack house, she was dragged, propelled, scorned, and had objects thrown at her.

Brielle wandered past a few buildings and little cabins, watching as random elderly females and male pack members trooped hastily out of their tent, hoping to catch a glimpse of her in her helpless state.

She knew they were aware of what was going on, but the surprised expressions on some people's faces indicated that they were also curious about what was going on.

Tears streaming down her face, swiping roughly at her face, Brielle recalled the events of the past few hours.

Everything was like a scene from a movie, and she was still convinced that it was all a dream and that she would wake up sooner or later, but this was reality, and it was staring her down.

Barely a few hours ago her tyrant of a father, Cassius Warren, had kicked the bucket and was no longer in existence, as he had finally succumbed to the cold hands of death.

The house where he lived had been mysteriously attacked and burned to the ground by unknown invaders, and it was still a mystery to her how she had survived the ordeal.

Her father had died, leaving her alone in this cold, harsh world, not that he had made it any better while he was still alive.

Now, the pack members and the people her father had treated lowly therein, the vicious pack members who scorned and hated her, had chosen to loom their resentment and hostility on her at the slightest juncture.

She was supposed to be mourning her deceased father, but here she was, being dragged around the pack house like a pig.

With no one to defend or fight for her but herself, fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, her face changing to one of pain and pity as she recoiled her arms around her torso.

Brielle sobbed in grief and distress as everyone around her scowled and made fun of her wobbly legs, unsteady figure, and mess of a body.

"Isn't she the solitary daughter of Cassius Warren, the wealthy crook?"

"Oh! Yeah! She's the buck. A lowlife Omega and a weakling! She should be killed too..."

"She's awfully a pushover! She is nothing..."

She could hear the vile things they were saying about her, and she struggled to say something, probably to beg or utter some words of plea, but her chapped lips were sore, and her throat stung so badly from her earlier whines.

Her strawberry-red hair was scattered across her face, and narrow shoulders, and the nagging cold had her shivering in pain and cold.

She was putting on a black smudged hoodie, which was supposed to protect her from the cold, but it did nothing of the sort.

Her black trouser, which matched her pale hoodie, was scratched, affecting her lap and knees.

Her feet were adorned by white floppy slippers, which no longer possessed that striking white shiny color, having been renovated and recolored with brown mud due to the heavy men dragging her around.

Was it her fault she was born into her family?

Was it her fault that a man known for his tyranny and beastliness was fated to be her father? All of these questions she asked herself as she sniffled, her hands wiping away at her eyes as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Or was it her choice to be a loner, someone without friends and relatives, and this was what gave the pack members enough morale to treat and dine her like garbage? She inquired once more, flipping her hair away from her face.

The only person she had in all her life, the well-known, notable, and affluent Cassius Warren, who was her father, was now dead, and she was now alone in this world.

She could hear the murmurs of the pack members, both young and old, cursing at her and thrashing her out like an unwanted guest.

She could hear the insults, laughter, and scorn directed at her.

Nonetheless, she accepted everything.

Brielle, surprisingly, was not stunned or outraged by these unexpected prosecutions.

The only thing she was wailing about, the only thing that broke her heart, was how unloved and undesirable she had felt her entire life.

Following her mother's death during childbirth, her father, the tyrannic ruler and Alpha of Wolfsbane pack had been her only relative.

The fact that her father was wealthy, renowned, and had everything at his disposal must have been a delight to her, as she was supposed to be content having such an eminent figure in her life who would uphold her through the ordeals she faced in the pack, and all that, but the opposite had been the case.

He was no less different than they were.

He had even named her Dolores, which meant "pain," after accusing her of murdering her mother.

He called her a weakling, a curse to his generation, and he had treated her worse than anyone else, and when he was still alive, she wondered if he was really her father, but he was...

She had his unusual red hair color and, by all appearances, the beauty of her mother, so she was without a doubt his daughter.

Another reason why he hated her and treated her like shit was because he beheld her a chagrin, and he despised her for being a pushover and coward.

She was so frail, he said, and she never acted like someone he had given birth to.

She wasn't very strong, and she didn't keep her position as the daughter of a highly reputable man.

Brielle miserably held up her orifices, her hoodie well on her face, as she raised her face forward to view the landscape of the land border.

The border that separated their pack from the other pack, and regardless of the wild yelling and profanity she was hearing from the pack members behind her, Brielle raised her eyebrows, confused as she had no idea what was happening again.

Yes, she had been expelled, but...

She noticed cars from a distance.

Brielle noticed an old van stationed near a sporty red car near the border. Then she noticed a few men standing by the vehicles, and straining her eyes even more, Brielle recognized one of the men in the crowd, and her mouth opened in shock because it couldn't be, but it was.

Blacko Shawn, her father's best friend, stood still from a distance, probably with a smirk.

A sharp gasp escaped her fragile pinkish lips, her eyelids dilated slightly, and she muttered slowly in disbelief, "No, no, it can't be."

However, it was...

BRIELLE'S POV

"Move, you bitch..." The hefty man, whose grip had been on her earlier, yelled in her ears and whimpering in pain at his tight grip on her arms; Brielle sniffled her tears again as they began to walk nearer to the border.

Close to where the vehicles were and were Mr. Shawn was standing with his men.

Her heart twinged slightly in relief as she spotted him, and she wasn't sure if she should be happy that he was there or not.

She had her eyes on him at first, but Mr. Shawn didn't seem to notice her as he conversed with one of the bulky men he had with him.

She should be happy, of course, Brielle thought, using her freed right hand to arrange her falling hair as she looked back at him, embarrassed and ashamed too.

Mr. Shawn would undoubtedly help her.

Yes, he would because he was one of her father's closest friends, and she could recall the times he'd come to the mansion to talk with her father.

She could vividly recall when he was leaving and would abruptly stop to greet her, sending his greetings and even giving her some gifts.

Sometimes she'd be quietly playing with her lone doll, and he'd stop to talk to her, and oh, how he'd give her such cheerful huge smiles.

She'd met him and considered him a pleasant good man, one of her favorites.

"Perhaps he could help me?" Brielle muttered to herself, "I...wi...I wish..." Her subconscious mind uttered, or rather her little wolf Danika, and responding, a tear crawling down her face once more, Brielle muttered to herself, repeating the words, "I...wi...I wish."

They were far away from the pack house as the cursing and rebellious voices of the people who seemed to despise her faded, and only a few mumblings and murmurs could be heard behind her as she continued toward Mr. Shawn and his men.

She was still staring at him when she noticed his eyes scanning the crowds, looking at everyone gathered, as well as the men beside him.

Brielle could detect a frown on his slightly wrinkled expression when he swerved at first, but surely not because of her presence, right?

It couldn't be because he hadn't yet looked at her side.

She took advantage of the free time to look at Mr. Shawn.

If she remembered correctly, he was in his forties, but looking at him now, he appeared to be in his fifties.

In the age category, there was no debate; he did look cool in his attire.

His feet were in black boots, and he was dressed in an enormous red coat with faded blue trousers.

His bald hair conformed to his grey orbs, which he used to scan the crowd as if looking for something or someone, and then...

He finally noticed her.

His gaze eventually settled on her green orbs, and he didn't blink in surprise or recognition; his face was just blank.

Brielle's lips quivered as she stared at him inquisitively, using her right hand to remove her hair from her face and straightening up despite the painful grip on her arm.

Her face red and pale, she continued to look at him, expecting him to say something, anything, but he uttered nothing, and silence ate up the entire scenery like a horse preying on some greenery pasture.

He smirked as he averted his gaze from her, catching Brielle off guard.

He had acted as if he didn't recognize her.

Or was she so old and tattered that he couldn't remember her?

He had to have heard about her father's death and...

"Good morning! Members of the pack!" Mr. Shawn sang-songed quickly, breaking the silence, cutting her off her thoughts, and splaying his meaty hands around as if demonstrating something.

"Good morning! Mr. Shawn!" Everyone in the crowd repeated, returning his seemingly unharmed greetings, and then his gaze returned to her.

She began to have a chilling feeling that something terrible was about to happen to her; she had no idea why or how, but she hoped it wasn't what she was thinking.

She had the sudden and firm impression that Mr. Shawn would never help her out of her current situation.

It was clear from the way he looked at her.

He was giving her the same look that everyone else was giving her.

The scorn, disgust, and scowl on his face were enough to say the words he wasn't saying aloud.

Brielle fidgeted, nervously intertwining her slender fingers, her eyes unblinking as she waited to see what would happen.

Her heart was racing so fast! Damn!

"As you are all aware, Miss Brielle Warren is prevailed to be banished, eliminated, and erased from the Wolfsbane pack and..."

Brielle quickly turned her head to look at him, tuning out his words as he spoke to the assembled crowd, and as she listened, new tears began to fall from her eyes.

She was dumbfounded, speechless, and in awe, as she listened to the statements of a man she had identified as a rare boulder, someone she could call her friend, at least in her lonely life.

His words and the tone in which he spoke to her were filled with annoyance and resentment toward her, which perplexed her.

How cruel could the world be to her once more?

"...she's no longer among us! Don't you think she'll be cast out to live outside the pack, perhaps as a scrawny rogue or living with humans? They'd devour and molest her because she deserves it, right?" She heard Mr. Shawn ask, and the boos from the audience demonstrated their agreement and approval of what he was saying.

Smirking devilishly as he sneered at her, he couldn't help but mock her with his half-whited teeth, and Brielle almost spat at him, but he was too far away.

"Take her away now! We don't need her around!" A deep voice erupted from the snarling crowd behind her, and she turned shamefully to face the crowd.

"Yes! GET HER OUT!" The rest of the crowd shouted in agreement with the man's earlier words, and with that, Mr. Shawn snapped his fingers in the air, and then the next thing that took place happened so quickly.

Two hefty young men dressed in black coats similar to the one Mr. Shawn was putting on trooped out of the old van quickly.

They stood spruced up between Mr. Shawn, their vision obscured by black sunglasses.

"Get her!" Brielle gasped as he growled and pointed his left finger at her.

"No! No! You jerks must not touch me!" She shrieked as the men approached her, wavering her head and changing positions in an attempt to be freed, but she was suddenly gripped.

"No! Remove your filthy hands from my face!" She screamed helplessly once more as her red hair flung in all directions in the air due to her fusses, but no help came.

"Bring her to the van and lock her in!" Mr. Shawn's commanding voice roared as she was heaved away towards the van.

"This is so unjust! Please let me go!" She kept screaming and shouting at the same time.

The pack members stood with a grin on their faces as she was led away, a few older members swiveling to return to their respective tents while the younger members stood to watch the entire spectacle.

Brielle's eyes welled with fragile tears as she folded her lips into her mouth, attempting to stop the barrage of wails, but her efforts were futile.

Fierce hearable sobs could be overheard, elicited by her throat screams, and she continued to sob uncontrollably, with no one to console her.

Two men approached her, holding strong chains in their hands, and quickly tying her up, they threw her into the back of the van.

Some men crouched opposite the other edge of the wall van glanced at her quickly, and with scorn on their faces, they burst out laughing at her.

From where she was tied, she could still see what was going on outside, and looking ahead, she saw Mr. Shawn step into the van after a few moments with the bulky men who had been with him previously.

As he began to walk towards her, he trudged and squatted to face her, letting out a growl and saying nothing when she removed her face from his gaze.

She didn't want to look into his evil eyes.

He stood up, chuckling slowly, and Brielle heard him yell at the driver, "Following, Stop! Las Vegas, here we come!"

Brielle had no idea what happened next because she heard a loud bang and then...

She noticed a shadow of something on the floor, hovering swiftly on her head as it plunged and slammed her skull so harshly that her eyes instantly blurred.

She knew she was going to be unconscious, and then...

Everything went pitch black.

DARIUS POV

There, in the heart of faraway Washington, among the presence of witches, wizards, sorcerers, and werewolves, stood the vastly grandiose and imposing mansion that belonged to none other than...

Alpha Darius! The enigmatic Lycan King.

The entire mansion was indescribable, screaming so much magnificence and affluence like none other.

Everything smells like mint and money...

One could see their reflection anywhere they stepped.

Every piece of furniture and material was visibly adorned with diamonds.

Not just any diamonds, but pure diamonds, making the entire scenery and every corner of the castle glitter and shimmer in its splendor.

Every morning at sunrise, the radiant rays shone their flashes into the mansion, highlighting the jeweled interior and bestowing it with the mesmerizing beauty it deserved.

When nightfall arrived, the luxurious lights were turned on, adding to the mansion's glamour and elegance.

Alpha Darius' mansion was undeniably magnificent and gigantic, more extraordinary than any other mansion in the pack.

Hefty guards dressed in striking black suits surrounded the castle, leaving no room for any intruder or invader, as the castle was well guarded beyond doubt.

When speaking of the mansion's owner, the thirty-year-old Alpha Darius, every streak of head bowed in deep reverence to his name.

Alpha Darius, a top billionaire and Lycan heir to the throne, possessed massive conglomerates as well as hundreds of companies under his wing all over the world.

He was a ruthless and cold-hearted tyrant.

A soul who was unlikely to be messed with, and he had everything at his disposal.

A few people who knew him from his early days knew he wasn't this powerful.

Yes, he was the Lycan of his reputable pack house, ruling over his people and dishing orders to the Alpha King, but they knew he wasn't a dignitary with all these frigid traits to his reputation or massive wealth before, but...

Everything had changed overnight, and no one knew what had caused this sudden upheaval and increase in his massive wealth, one which he preferred.

After the tragedy that occurred to him some years ago, he changed for the worse, and he now reigned as a merciless beast.

Darius, on the other hand, was currently in his massive living room, one leg crossed over the other, his right hand clutched to the glass, gulping down the remnants of the intemperate wine in his grip.

His ocean-blue orbs frequently glanced at the massive standout clock, which was located on the west side of the doozy living room, anticipating something, but he would then drop his head in shame and focus on his drink.

The guards nearby could tell, and anyone who knew him could tell, that he was feeling rather tense.

His thick black brows flickered back to the displaying TV as he lowered the gleaming glass cup in his hand to the nearby portable table and back to the ticking clock, which read 6: 25pm.

It was nearly time...

"Fuck!" Deep within himself, he exclaimed, and with a swift movement, he sprang up abruptly, in all his dominating and insurmountable glory...

Apart from being feared and a billionaire, Alpha Darius was undeniably one of the most beautiful men ever created.

His looks were so smooth, and standing at a sturdy 6ft tall, with an accurate intricate sharp, edgy jawline, mesmerizing shade of ocean blue orbs that captivated anyone who beheld him, Darius was a live version of a Greek god.

With coaxing thick chest, which could tell how strong his vibrant abs were, his stark dark flaxen hair flopping lazily like brims over his face, Darius made use of his fingers to brush back the hair backwards.

Darius was well aware that his appearance exuded sexuality, and he made the most of it.

Any lucky young lady who happened to come across him vulnerably jumped to his powerful feet, wanting his enticing touch on them, and they always wanted to scream out his name in his inner chambers, though he did not indulge all of them.

Sighing slowly, Darius began to strut, gradually swerving towards the stairs as he progressed effortlessly.

He stepped on the stairs leading upwards to his room, and by the time he got inside... he could already see his red-haired maidens at work.

They had already prepared his bath, the bathroom curtains wide open, the scented rose and hibiscus fragrance filling the room, and he could see that they were patiently waiting for him.

"Master Darius." As he trudged in, the maids all stooped in reverence, bowing their heads in acknowledgement.

"You can all leave now. Call in Ralph!" He commanded, coldly ignoring their unharmed greetings as he conveyed a prompt order before proceeding to the restroom.

"Yes, Master!"

The maids shuddered and stammered a response in unison, terrified of his harsh voice and scurrying out of his room simultaneously.

Darius finished his warm bath in seconds or minutes, and as he stepped out of the bathroom, he came face to face with Ralph, who had bowed his head in respect in the centre of his room.

"Master!"

"You know what needs to be done; I'm not going to start reminding you of your responsibilities." Darius spat in a gruff voice as he strode towards Ralph, standing in front of him with a white towel wrapped around his waist and his manly hands on his midsection.

Darius knew Ralph could sense the power emanating from him, even though they were not looking at each other because his head was bowed to the marble floors.

He couldn't look him in the eyes because doing so was a death wish in and of itself.

"Master, I have accomplished what is needed to be done." Ralph replied, removing the hands he had used to massage Darius's waist, heaving intensely.

Nodding as his mind wandered somewhat strangely, Damien suddenly remembered something...

The season was here again.

The hazed season in which he got to choose the lucky girl from a group of red-blonde girls and then take the ones he'd go home with.

It had become something of a tradition for him, with red blonde-haired girls being specially nominated to grace his private suite.

He was a well-known customer in the auction ritual arena. As such, he received VIP treatment, as the ringleader made sure that his girls were exceptionally dressed up specifically for him to choose his taste.

Every year, the red-haired girls ritual was primarily forged for him to buy whomever he desired, and he couldn't go by without getting one of them.

He'd sometimes squander his wealth and fortune on the fairest ones, bringing them back to the mansion.

There was no way he wouldn't return with at least one ginger-haired slave beauty, and this was a top priority for him...

Something he'd done since losing his mate to the cold hands of death.

'Eve, Fuck!' Darius exclaimed deep within himself, ruffling his hair as he was once again immersed in his thoughts, with memories of various kinds assailing him.

She was the love of his life, had been and still is.

He had loved and treasured her more than any other thing else ever since he had been born, and he had cherished and respected her like she was his whole existence.

But then, life had played a tough one on him, and she had died.

After her death, Darius became a ghost of himself.

Isolating himself for years, he despised everyone and everything.

Nothing could make him smile because his heart was shattered and irreparably damaged.

And, after years of mourning her death, he had reintroduced himself to the world, striving to become a figure to be feared and dreaded.

Her pretty smile flashed right into his eyes, and his heart squeezed... Damn it! She had been the best thing that had ever happened to him since he was a child.

Recalling her delicate features, Darius could remember that she was an extremely pretty red-blonde lady.

Yes, and that was why he craved only red-blonde girls when he pretended to be an average person in the auction ring.

Every year, this thing was a fucking remembrance and memory of his beloved mate.

He bought various red-blonde girls, eradicated or spun them into an intercourse plaything and his submissives, and once he was done with them, they would become his maids or, worse, his slaves.

"Did you convey pleasant flowers to the grave?" Darius asked, finally regaining his composure.

He was inquiring because today was Eve's death anniversary, and he wanted to ensure Ralph had done so.

Every year on this day, he made certain that beautiful flowers were delivered to her.

"Yes! Yes, Master." Ralph stated appropriately.

"Good. Get the cars ready; you may leave now as well." Darius said gruffly, and Ralph nodded and walked out of the room, bowing his head.

"And..." Darius said abruptly, as Ralph froze in his tracks and whirled quickly with a bow.

"Send in the maids once more." He ordered, turning to saunter towards the dressing mirror, and Ralph responded loudly before fleeing the room, "Yes, Master!"

Darius moved his icy gaze to the massive clock in the east corner of the room to check the time, and it was now... 7:59 pm.

Just a few minutes remaining...

After a brief knock, the maids hurried into the room, and on his command, they were allowed to enter.

Without further ado and without waiting for his instructions, they all began to dress him professionally in the outfit he had chosen for today.

They dressed him in an all-black suit, with no effort to make a mistake and all loose ends in place.

Darius stood unmoved as he stared coldly at his reflection in the mirror while he was being dressed; the maids clearly knew their jobs as they ensured he looked exceptional and intimidating, just like the figure he was portrayed as.

And even though he could see their trembling hands on him through the reflector, he didn't shake or recoil at their fear; instead, it fueled him more or was it the opposite...

He was becoming irritated as he silently observed the scene around him.

He had a sudden desire to stop them, bark at them, and tell them not to be afraid of him, but no...

He would let this insane thought pass him by today because it was an important day.

"Leave!" he growled, and the maids, unknowingly, gasped aloud as they bowed their heads without saying anything and then scampered out of the room.

Thank goodness they were already done, and after one final glance at the mirror reflector, he took two steps to the table and snatched his two phones from it before beginning to evacuate the room.

"...I'd be right there..." He said into the phone, seeing someone from the auction ring calling him, and then he started walking outside, towards the awaiting white smudged Limousines, which hefty guards flanked.

"Master!" They all bowed as he approached, and tucking one phone into his pocket pants, Darius clenched the other phone in his free hand.

Ralph was already outside, standing by his most private limousine, and Darius quickly pulled the door open by its black blemished handle, stepping inside before the door was completely shut.

The cars were started, and they were gradually steered out through the compound's bridle to their intended destination.

Darius stared at the bustling cities with the flashy lights being put on each building as the car rode past them throughout the distant, quiet ride.

His mind was blank as usual as his senses wandered off to the long trees, whose branches swayed like lovers and other parts of nature.

Darius had no idea how many minutes or seconds had passed. Still, soon they arrived at their destination as the massive building gate opened automatically, and they drove inside...

"Let's see what the breezy night has for me..."

He quickly pleated both hands inside his pocket pants and strode powerfully out of the car towards the indescribable and remarkable building, which was already crashing with electrifying music and bustling.

The night was still young.