Sold to the Alpha King

The door looked like the entrance to a crypt.

I stared at the intricate carvings of wolves tearing apart a stag, my breath hitching in my

throat, so dry it felt like sandpaper. Inside that room sat the man who now owned the deed to my life.

"Don't embarrass me, Bailey," my stepfather, Lancaster, muttered from beside me. He didn't look at me. He was too busy checking the heavy gold watch on his wrist, likely calculating how quickly he could get to the casino once he handed me over. "Just nod, agree to whatever he says, and spread your legs when told. It's not rocket science."

I didn't turn to look at him. If I did, I might claw his eyes out, and I needed my hands intact for whatever hell awaited me.

"You got your money, Lancaster," I whispered, my voice devoid of emotion. I had cried all my tears three days ago when the deal was struck. Now, I was just hollow. "Leave."

"Ungrateful bitch," he spat, then shoved me toward the doors. "He's waiting."

I stumbled forward, catching my balance just as the handle turned. The doors swung open, not by a servant, but by an unseen force, or perhaps just the sheer gravity of the man inside.

I stepped into the lion's den. Or rather, the Wolf King's lair.

The office was massive, dimly lit by a roaring fireplace that did little to warm the chill in the air. The scent of old books, expensive scotch, and something metallic-like blood-hung heavy.

But then, underneath it all, another scent hit me.

It was faint at first. Sharp. Intoxicating. Like a thunderstorm breaking over a pine forest.

My wolf stirred for the first time in years, scratching at the back of my mind.

My heart stopped.

Mate. I froze in the center of the Persian rug. The leather chair behind the massive ebony desk swiveled slowly.

Rider Thorne. The Alpha King.

He looked like the kind of man people didn't say no to . That was the first tragedy. He had a jawline, sharp enough to cut glass, hair the color of midnight that fell messily over his forehead, and eyes...

His eyes were gray. Not a soft, cloudy gray, but the color of steel before it strikes.

"You're late," he said.

His voice was a low rumble, a vibration that traveled through the floorboards and straight up my legs.

My wolf howled, pushing forward desperately confusing me.

I dug my fingernails into my palms until the skin broke. Shut up, I commanded her. He bought us. He didn't choose us.

Rider didn't sniff the air. He didn't widen his eyes. He didn't stiffen. He just looked at me with an expression of utter boredom, as if I were a piece of furniture he had ordered and was now inspecting for scratches.

"My... my stepfather had trouble with the car," I lied, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.

Rider stood up. He was massive, easily six-foot-four, with shoulders that strained against his black dress shirt. He walked around the desk, his movements predatory and silent. He stopped three feet away from me.

"I don't care about your stepfather," Rider said, his tone flat. "And I don't care about your excuses."

He circled me. I felt like a prize cow at an auction. He didn't touch me, but his gaze felt like a physical weight dragging down my skin.

"You know why you are here, Bailey," he stated. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Say it."

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. "To provide... to provide heirs."

Rider stopped in front of me. He reached out, his hand hovering near my chin. My breath hitched. For a second, a foolish, naive second, I thought he might feel the spark. I thought he might touch my skin and realize that I wasn't just a transaction.

He gripped my chin roughly, tilting my head up and to the side, inspecting my neck. His fingers were cold. No sparks. Just pressure.

"Clean," he muttered to himself, dropping his hand as if I were contaminated. He walked back to his desk and leaned against the edge, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's be clear about the rules of this arrangement. I have acquired you for a singular purpose. My Beta, Ritchie, tells me your bloodline is fertile. That is your only value to me."

The words were like knives, precise and aimed at my vital organs. Your only value. His words echoed in my mind.

"I understand," I managed to say.

"Good. Because I have no patience for romance, or clingy behavior, or emotions," Rider said, his gray eyes boring into mine. "You will live in the East Wing. You will not enter my office unless summoned. You will not speak to my pack members unless necessary. And when I visit your room, you will be compliant."

"And the baby?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Once... once the baby is born?"

Rider picked up a glass of amber liquid from his desk and took a sip, his eyes never leaving mine. "Once you produce a viable son, your debt is cleared. You will be given a sum of money, and you will leave. The child stays."

My knees nearly buckled. He was going to take my baby.

"I... I get to leave?"

"You get to disappear," he corrected. "I don't want my heir to have a mother with a price tag on her head. You will sever all ties."

He was a monster. A beautiful monster.

"What if it's a girl?" I asked, testing the waters.

Rider's expression darkened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Then we keep trying until you get it right."

He set the glass down with a heavy clink.

"Liam," he barked.

The side door opened instantly, and a tall, wiry man with glasses stepped in. He looked exhausted. This must be the assistant.

"Yes, Alpha?"

"Take her to the medical wing. Natalie needs to run the final tests. I want to make sure the merchandise is not damaged," Rider said, turning his back on me to look out the window at the dark forest beyond.

Property.

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and stinging, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This way, Miss," Liam said gently, gesturing to the door.

I looked at Rider's broad back one last time. "Do you even know my last name?" I asked. I don't know why I said that. Maybe I wanted to see if he was capable of human conversation.

Rider didn't turn around. "Does it matter?"

I turned and walked out, my heart shattering in my chest.

The medical wing was sterile and smelled of antiseptic. Natalie, the pack doctor, was kind but efficient. She poked, prodded, drew blood, and checked my hips. She didn't ask if I was okay. Everyone here seemed terrified of the man upstairs.

"You're healthy," Natalie said, snapping off her gloves. "Ideally suited for carrying high-ranking pups. Though..." She hesitated, looking at my chart. "You're young."

"I'm twenty-two," I said, pulling my shirt back down. "Old enough to be sold."

Natalie winced. "Rider... the King... he has a lot of pressure on him. The council is demanding an heir. His line is the strongest, but there are threats. He needs to secure the succession."

"So he buys a woman?"

"He doesn't trust anyone enough to court them," Natalie sighed. "He thinks love makes you weak. He watched his parents die because of it. To him, this is safer. Business."

"It's slavery," I corrected.

Natalie didn't argue. She just pointed me toward the door where Liam was waiting to escort me to my room.

My room was luxurious, I'd give him that. A king-sized bed, silk sheets, a balcony overlooking the gardens. But it was still a cage. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the locked door.

I waited.

Hours ticked by. The moon rose high, casting silvery light across the floor. I should have been planning my escape. I should have been hating him. But my stupid wolf was pacing, whining, waiting for him.

He's coming, she whispered.

The handle turned.

I stood up, my pulse hammering in my throat.

Rider walked in. He had shed the suit jacket. His tie was undone, hanging loosely around his neck, and the top buttons of his shirt were popped open, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin and dark ink. He looked tired. And dangerous.

He didn't say a word. He locked the door behind him with a decisive click.

He walked toward me, and the air in the room grew heavy with his dominance. I backed up until my legs hit the mattress.

"Strip," he said.

No hello. No preamble.

I swallowed. "Rider..."

"King Rider," he corrected, his voice a low growl. He stopped inches away from me. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with that addictive pine scent. It was making me dizzy. "And I didn't come here to talk."

"Can't we... can't we at least pretend like this is normal?" I pleaded, my voice trembling. "I'm a person."

Rider looked down at me, his eyes hooded. For a second, I saw a flicker of something in his gaze. Exhaustion? Pain? But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that steel wall.

He reached out and traced the line of my jaw with his thumb. A strange heat passed through me when he touched me. He frowned, looking at his own hand as if he felt a static shock, but he shook it off.

"You aren't a person tonight, Bailey," he whispered, his voice rough, leaning down until his lips brushed against the shell of my ear. "Tonight, you are a solution to a problem."

He pulled back, his eyes cold and empty.

"Now," he commanded, his voice dropping to an Alpha command that forced my knees to buckle. "Get on the bed."

I gasped, my body reacting to the command against my will. As I scrambled backward onto the silk sheets, terrified and aroused and heartbroken all at once, I realized the truth.

I could wait for him to love me. I could hope the bond would snap into place.

But looking at the dead look in his eyes as he unbuckled his belt, I knew one thing for certain.

He wasn't going to break my heart. He was going to obliterate it.

The mattress dipped under his weight, and the air in the room shifted, becoming thick and suffocating. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

My wolf whimpered, tucking her tail between her legs. Submit. Please, just submit.

Rider hovered over me. Up close, he was even more devastating. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark stubble on his jaw.

He smelled like a storm about to break-ozone, rain, and that dark, woodsy scent that made my head spin.

He placed a hand on my waist to pull me closer.

The moment his hand touched my waist, a strange heat shot through me. Rider stiffened like he felt it too.

Rider hissed, jerking his hand back as if he'd been burned. He stared at his palm, then at me, his gray eyes narrowing into slits.

"What did you do?" he growled.

I propped myself up on my elbows, shaking. "I... I didn't do anything."

He leaned in again, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply near my neck. I held my breath, praying, hoping that his wolf would scream the truth at him.

Rider's eyes flashed gold-his wolf was surfacing. For a moment, the cruelty on his face softened into something like confusion. His hand reached out again, trembling slightly, hovering over my cheek.

"Your smell..." he murmured, his voice losing its hard edge. "What did you put on your skin?."

My heart dropped. "Rider?"

The sound of his name on my lips seemed to snap him out of the trance. The gold vanished from his irises, replaced by cold, steel gray. He stood up abruptly, backing away from the bed as if I were a venomous snake.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking furious. "You're using a scent blocker? Or some kind of pheromone enhancer?"

"What?" I sat up, clutching the silk sheet to my chest. "No! I'm not using anything. It's just me."

"Liar," he spat. "No Omega smells like that. You're trying to manipulate me."

He paced the room, his agitation growing. The air crackled with his Alpha aura, making it hard for me to breathe. He was fighting it. He was fighting it with every ounce of his stubborn will, rationalizing it away as a trick.

"I'm not manipulating you," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "If you would just look-"

"Silence!"

The Command slammed into me, sealing my lips shut.

Rider walked to the door, buttoning his shirt with jerky, angry movements. "I don't know what kind of game you or your stepfather are playing, hoping to seduce a King, but it won't work. My wolf is agitated. I won't bed you tonight."

He grabbed the door handle, then looked back at me over his shoulder. The look of disgust on his face cut deeper than any knife.

"The doctor will re-examine you in the morning. If I find out you've drugged yourself to appeal to me, I'll throw you in the dungeons."

The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

I was alone.

I curled into a ball on the massive bed, burying my face in the pillows that still smelled like him. My wolf was howling in grief, scratching at the walls of my mind.

He rejected us. Why does he hate us so much?

"He doesn't know," I whispered into the dark, trying to convince myself.

But as I drifted into a restless sleep, I knew the truth. Breaking through Rider Thorne's walls wasn't going to be a romance. It was going to be a war.

The next morning, the sun was blinding.

I woke up with a headache and a hollow stomach. No one had come to unlock the door. No breakfast. No instructions.

I waited for an hour. Then two. My thirst was becoming unbearable.

Tentatively, I tried the door handle. It turned.

He must have unlocked it remotely, or told someone to do it. I peeked into the hallway. It was empty, lined with expensive art and endless doors. The Alpha King's pack house was more like a palace, cold and silent.

I needed water.

I followed the faint sound of clattering pans down two flights of stairs until I found the kitchen. It was massive, stainless steel and marble, bustling with Omega staff preparing lunch.

As soon as I walked in, the chatter stopped.

A dozen pairs of eyes turned to me. Some looked curious. Most looked pitying.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked, my voice raspy. "Could I get a glass of water?"

A plump woman in an apron moved to help, but a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Don't serve her."

The staff froze.

I turned to see a woman leaning against the doorframe of the pantry. She was gorgeous in a terrifying way-tall, with platinum blonde hair and curves that her tight red dress barely contained. Her scent was cloying, like over-sweet perfume covering up something rotten.

This was Lia. I didn't need an introduction to know who she was. The tabloids loved her. The Alpha's favorite bedwarmer. The one who thought she would be Queen.

Lia pushed off the wall and sauntered toward me, her heels clicking on the tile.

"So," she sneered, looking me up and down with a look of pure loathing. "This is the merchandise."

"I have a name," I said, standing my ground. I might be sold, but I was still a wolf. "It's Bailey."

Lia laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Furniture doesn't get a name, sweetie. You're a womb with legs. Rider paid for a service. Once you pop out a pup, you'll be in the trash where you belong."

My hands curled into fists. "Is that what you're worried about? That the trash might take your spot?"

The kitchen went dead silent. The Omega staff looked terrified.

Lia's eyes flashed dangerous amber. She stepped into my personal space, her claws lengthening just enough to be a threat. "Listen to me, you little mutt. Rider doesn't do love. And he certainly doesn't do family. He hates you. He told me this morning that your scent makes him sick."

The words landed like a physical blow. Makes him sick.

"He didn't say that," I whispered, my voice wavering.

"Oh, he did," Lia grinned, showing teeth. "He thinks you're repulsive. He's only going to touch you because he has to. So don't get any ideas about playing Luna. I run this house. And if you step out of line..."

She reached out and shoved me hard.

I wasn't expecting it. I stumbled back, my hip catching the corner of the granite island. Pain shot down my leg, and I gasped, gripping the counter to stay upright.

"Oops," Lia smirked. "Clumsy."

"You have no right," I hissed, my own wolf bristling. "I am the King's guest."

"You are the King's whore!" Lia shrieked. She raised her hand, her claws fully extended, aiming for my face.

I flinched, bracing for the impact, protecting my stomach out of instinct.

"ENOUGH!"

The voice was like a thunderclap.

The pressure in the room dropped instantly, forcing everyone, including Lia, to their knees. The Alpha Command. It was absolute.

I looked up, gasping for air.

Rider stood in the doorway. He was wearing a dark grey suit, immaculate and terrifying. He looked at Lia, who was trembling on the floor, and then his gaze slid to me. He looked at my hip, where a bruise was likely already forming, and his jaw ticked.

He walked into the room, the crowd parting like the Red Sea.

He stopped in front of Lia.

"Rider, baby, I was just-" Lia started, her voice high and pitchy.

"Get up," Rider said coldly.

Lia scrambled to her feet, smirking at me, thinking she had won.

Rider didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on me. They were cold, devoid of warmth, but burning with a dark, possessive fire.

"Did I give you permission to damage my property, Lia?" he asked softly.

Lia's smirk vanished. "What?"

"If you scratch her face, or stress her out, she might not conceive." I don't like when people touch what's under my roof.

He stepped closer to Lia, looming over her. "If you touch her again, I will rip your throat out. Not because I care about her. But because I don't like people breaking my toys."

Lia paled, nodding frantically. "Yes, Alpha. I'm sorry."

"Get out," he barked.

Lia fled. The kitchen staff scurried away, leaving us alone in the vast, cold kitchen.

I stood there, humiliated. He had saved me, but his words hurt more than Lia's claws ever could. Property. Money. Toy.

Rider turned to me. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He stepped into my space, grabbing my arm and yanking me toward him. I felt the heat spread again, instantaneous and hot. He ignored them, though I saw his pupil dilate.

"And you," he growled, leaning down until his nose brushed mine. "You don't talk back to high-ranking wolves. You don't start fights. You exist to be quiet and useful."

"I didn't start it," I argued, my voice shaking. "I just wanted water."

"Then learn to fetch it without causing a scene," he snapped. He released my arm, pushing me back slightly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. He tossed it onto the counter. It slid across the marble and stopped in front of me.

"Put it on," he ordered.

I looked at the box, then at him. "What is it?"

"Insurance," Rider said, checking his watch. "I have a meeting. Wear it. If you take it off, there will be consequences."

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving his scent lingering heavily in the air.

With trembling fingers, I opened the velvet box.

I gasped.

It wasn't a ring. It wasn't a necklace.

It was a collar.

A thin, diamond-encrusted leather collar with a small tracking device woven into the gems. And hanging from the center was a small silver tag engraved with a single word.

Mine.

My stomach dropped. He didn't just want an heir. He wanted to own me completely.

I looked up at the empty doorway, my hand clutching the cold leather.

"I hate you," I whispered.

But my treacherous heart thumped a different rhythm.

The silk of the dress felt like ice against my skin, but it was the weight of the collar that truly made it hard to breathe. Every time I moved, the diamonds caught the light, reminding me that I was a high-priced pet.

A sharp knock at the door made me flinch.

Two women walked in, carrying trays of jewelry and makeup. The older one had graying hair pulled into a tight, unforgiving bun. Her eyes were sharp as she looked me up and down.

"I am Eloise, the head of the domestic staff," she said, her voice formal and clipped. "This is Laila. We have been tasked with making you presentable for the Council. The Alpha King does not like to be kept waiting."

Laila, the younger girl, kept her head down. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the presence of Eloise kept her silent.

"Presentable for what exactly?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Is there a reason I'm being dressed up like a doll?"

Eloise stepped forward, her fingers cold as she adjusted the collar. "Tonight is the Contract Recognition. The Elders of the pack must witness the official signing. They need to see that the woman Rider purchased is capable of carrying the Royal bloodline."

"And if they don't think I am?"

Eloise paused, a flicker of pity crossing her face before it vanished. "Then God help you, child. Because the Council is not as patient as our King."

Just as they finished, the door swung open again. Lia stood there, looking stunning in a gold gown that left very little to the imagination. She looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.

"Still here?" Lia sneered, walking into the room and dismissing the maids with a wave of her hand. "I thought you might have had the sense to jump off the balcony by now."

"I'm sure you'd love that," I said, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

Lia laughed, a cold and hollow sound. "Don't get comfortable, Bailey. You think that collar means you're special? It's a tracking device. Rider doesn't trust you. He thinks you're a flight risk, just like your pathetic mother was."

I whirled around. "Don't you dare talk about my mother."

"Why not? She ran too, didn't she? And look how that turned out," Lia whispered, leaning in so close I could smell her cloying perfume. "Tonight, the Elders will see you for what you are. A low-ranked Omega who was bought for her womb. Rider will never mark you. He will never love you. You are a vessel, and once you're empty, I'll be the one to show you the door."

The Great Hall was a sea of dark suits and heavy scents. The atmosphere was stifling. At the end of the hall, on a raised dais, sat the Council of Elders. Seven ancient wolves who held the laws of the pack in their withered hands.

But it was the three men standing in front of them that drew every eye.

The Triplets.

Rider stood in the center, looking lethal in a black tuxedo. To his left was Declan, who had a wicked smirk and eyes that seemed to see through everyone. To his right was Raven, the silent one, his face a mask of cold indifference. They were the most powerful Alphas in existence, and tonight, they looked like they were ready to judge the world.

Rider's eyes found mine the moment I entered. The air in my lungs vanished. The pull was so strong I almost stumbled.

Rider didn't move. He didn't smile. He just watched me with those piercing gray eyes as I walked down the long aisle toward them.

"She arrives," one of the Elders, a man named Zelda, announced. His voice was like grinding stones. "The daughter of Lancaster. The price has been paid, and the bloodline is verified."

I reached the dais, my heart hammering. Rider stepped down, his hand wrapping firmly around my waist. The heat of his palm burned through the silk of my dress. It wasn't a comforting hold. It was a claim.

"She is the one," Rider said to the Council, his voice booming through the hall. "She will provide the heir to the Thorne line."

"A bold claim, Rider," a new voice interrupted.

I turned to see a man approaching from the side of the hall. He was handsome, with light brown hair and a warm, inviting smile that was a stark contrast to Rider's coldness. He was an Alpha, too, but his energy didn't feel like a weight on my chest.

"Eric," Rider growled, his grip on my waist tightening painfully. "You weren't invited to this part of the ceremony."

"I'm an Alpha of this pack, Rider. I don't need an invitation to witness a historic contract," Eric said, his eyes locking onto mine. He stepped closer, ignoring Rider's warning growl. "So, this is the girl. She's far too beautiful to be hidden away in this dark castle."

Eric reached out, taking my hand before Rider could stop him. He pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm Eric. If the King here ever forgets his manners, you can always find a friend in me, Bailey."

The room went deathly silent.

I felt the shift in Rider before I saw it. The air began to vibrate with his fury. His scent changed, becoming sharp and overwhelming.

"Take your hands off her," Rider whispered, a sound more terrifying than a roar.

"Relax, Rider. It's just a greeting," Eric said, though he didn't pull away. "Unless you're worried she might prefer someone who doesn't treat her like a prisoner?"

Rider didn't respond with words. He yanked me back, pulling me flush against his chest. His arm wound around my neck, his thumb resting right over my pulse point. I could feel his heart racing against my back.

"Step away from what belongs to me, Eric." Rider hissed, his wolf surfacing in his eyes. The gray was gone, replaced by a violent, glowing gold. "She is the mother of my children. If you touch her again, Eric, I will consider it an act of war against the throne."

The Elders began to murmur, the tension in the room reaching a breaking point. Declan and Raven stepped forward, their own Alpha auras flaring to support their brother.

"The contract is not yet signed, Rider," Elder Zelda reminded him. "Until the ink is dry, she is not officially yours in the eyes of the law."

Rider looked at the Council, then down at me. The look in his eyes was a mix of possession and something I couldn't name. It looked almost like pain.

"Then let's sign it," Rider said.

He grabbed my hand, dragging me toward the stone table where the parchment lay. A silver dagger sat beside it.

"Wait," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I haven't even read it."

Rider paused, leaning down so his lips were right against my ear. His breath was hot, sending shivers down my spine that I hated myself for feeling.

"You don't need to read it, Bailey," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "All you need to know is that once your blood hits this paper, you belong to me. Body, soul, and every breath you take."

He picked up the dagger.

I looked at Eric, who was watching with a look of intense concern. I looked at the Elders, who were waiting like vultures. Then I looked at Rider.

"Sign it, Bailey," he murmured. His voice was a low vibration that seemed to command the very blood in my veins. "Accept your place in this pack, and I will ensure your life is one of luxury. Defy me, and you will learn exactly why they call me the Cruel King."

I looked at the parchment. It was thick, yellowed with age, and covered in the elegant, looping script of the Wolf Laws. To everyone else, it was a treaty. To me, it was a receipt for a transaction where I was the goods.

Eric took a step forward, his amber eyes searching mine. "You don't have to do this, Bailey. The Council cannot force a signature obtained through duress. There are other ways. Other packs."

Rider's snarl was instantaneous, a visceral sound that ripped from his chest. He didn't even turn his head. "One more word, Eric, and I will have your tongue. She is not a guest. She is a debt paid in full."

I looked at the Elders. Zelda sat with his hands folded, his face as cold as the stone floor. He didn't care about my soul or my consent. He only cared about the prophecy of the Thorne line and the strength of the future Alpha.

Lia stood near the pillars, her face pale with a mix of fury and jealousy. She wanted to be in my position, yet she looked at me like I was a disease. She wanted the crown, but she didn't want the man who came with it. I, on the other hand, was terrified of the man but drawn to his scent like a moth to a flame.

"I'll sign," I whispered.

The word felt like a betrayal to my own wolf, who was pacing restlessly in the back of my mind. Rider's grip on my waist tightened for a split second, a flicker of triumph crossing his features.

He didn't hand me the dagger. He took my right hand, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he guided my index finger toward the blade. The tip was razor sharp. With a swift, practiced motion, he pressed the steel against my skin.

A single drop of crimson blood welled up.

"Now," Rider commanded.

He pressed my bleeding finger onto the bottom of the parchment. The blood soaked into the paper, spreading in a small, jagged circle. Rider didn't waste a second. He took the dagger and sliced his own palm, pressing his hand over my bloody fingerprint.

"It is done," Zelda announced, his voice echoing. "The contract is recognized. Bailey of the Crescent line is now the ward and consort of the Thorne Triplets. May the Moon Mother bless the union."

The room erupted into low murmurs. The weight of the ceremony felt like a physical burden on my shoulders. I was no longer a free wolf. I was a Thorne asset.

Eric looked at me one last time, a look of profound sadness in his eyes, before he turned and walked out of the hall. He knew as well as I did that there was no coming back from this.

Rider turned me around to face him. He didn't care about the witnesses or the protocol. He reached up, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip. His scent-dark cedar and expensive bourbon-wrapped around me, clouding my judgment.

"You are mine now, little wolf," he said, his voice dropping so low only I could hear. "Don't think that signing this paper makes you a Queen. It makes you a servant to this bloodline. You will eat when I tell you. You will sleep when I tell you. And you will give me the sons I require."

"Is that all I am to you?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and the strange, unwanted pull of the bond. "A biological necessity?"

Rider's eyes darkened. He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine. "Right now, you are a headache. But by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for the very chains you hate."

He stepped back, addressing his brothers. "Declan. Raven. She is moved to the Royal Suite tonight. See to it that her things are transferred. I have matters to discuss with the Council."

Declan, the triplet with the playful but dangerous smirk, stepped forward. He leaned in, sniffing the air around my neck with a boldness that made me gasp. "She smells like trouble, Rider. My favorite kind."

Raven remained silent, but his black eyes were fixed on me with a cold, analytical stare. He didn't need to speak to be terrifying.

"Take her," Rider snapped, clearly annoyed by Declan's proximity.

Declan gripped my arm, his touch much lighter than Rider's but no less firm. "Come along, Princess. Let's get you settled into your new cage. It has a great view of the forest you'll never be allowed to run in."

He led me out of the hall, Lia's hateful glare burning into my back the entire way. We walked through winding corridors of cold stone and velvet tapestries until we reached a set of massive gold-leafed doors.

"Here we are," Declan said, pushing the doors open.

The suite was breathtakingly beautiful, filled with fresh lilies and silk furniture, but all I saw was the heavy lock on the door.

"Eloise will be here shortly to assist you," Declan said, pausing at the threshold. He looked me up and down, his smirk fading into something more serious. "A word of advice, Bailey. Don't try to run. Rider has a way of finding things he owns, and he isn't gentle when he has to retrieve them."

He closed the door, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a deadbolt sliding into place.

I was alone.

I walked over to the large window, looking out at the sprawling territory of the Thorne pack. The moon was high, casting a silver glow over the trees. Somewhere out there, wolves were running free. Somewhere out there, there was a life I would never have.

I sat on the edge of the massive bed, my head in my hands. The collar felt heavier than ever.