ALANNA
In the mere hours since becoming Thornclaw's newest slave, I'd gained a lifetime's worth of pain and perspective. Lesson one: Mum's brutal training of endurance being a virtue is only half truth. It was a lifeline.
Lesson two: Wild wolves, no matter their rank, wanted me dead.
And right now, one of them was trying to deliver on that desire, bashing my head against a table, screaming obscenities so vile even the shadows flinched.
Just moments earlier, I'd entered the party, dressed in the blood-soaked clothes of a dead girl, ready to serve. I hadn't even made it halfway through the hallway before it began.
They weren't nobles, but they weren't slaves either. The in-betweeners. Bet stood off to the side with her arms folded as they punched and kicked me like I was some feral mutt who'd dared to exist.
One of them had his hand around my throat and murder in his eyes when he suddenly froze, knuckles poised mid-air.
Then, silence.
He dropped me like I burned him, muttering something about the Alpha's brand. Bet only sneered.
"Get up," she snapped. "Sigmas," she added with disgust as I hobbled after her. "What have you learned so far?"
Pain still throbbed across every inch of my body, but annoyance simmered just beneath it. What did she want me to say? That I understood my place? That I deserved this?
Before I could answer, she stopped and turned, locking eyes with me. "Tell me, have you met the Alpha before?"
My mark pulsed, low and hot warning me.
She rolled her eyes at my silence. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But listen well. You've met the Night Prowlers. The servants. Me. Now, the Sigmas. The next group won't just hurt you, they'll annihilate you. So ask yourself: why are you still breathing? Why did that wolf walk away when he had you in his grip?"
I had no answer, but I was starting to understand her point.
"Thornclaw doesn't tolerate weakness, girl," she muttered. "If you want to live, learn fast."
She vanished through the door, and I walked straight into hell.
The head of service had just snapped a slave's neck for an offense I didn't even catch.
When he saw me, he growled like a beast and delivered a few solid punches. But he didn't kill me. No,
Lhe made me strip the dead girl, wear her bloody uniform, and head straight into the party.
Lesson three: no one could kill me except Alpha Stefan. Not even I could. That had to be part of our deal, the twisted, and silent contract forged when I gave myself over to him.
Smart or lucky? Neither. A smart girl wouldn't be getting her face slammed into a table by a rabid she-wolf. A lucky girl wouldn't have stepped foot in this cursed place.
The woman eventually tired of hitting me, but her replacement was worse. Another took over, slaps raining like thunderclaps. Then, a man's voice barked through the chaos.
"Enough!"
He was the host, furious that we were making a spectacle before the Alpha. The moment I heard his name, my heart nearly stopped.
Was Stefan here?
The host ordered them to drag me out and banned me from reentering. Instead of relief, I was rewarded with a mountain of dishes and aching limbs.
My face was swollen, my outfit soaked in blood, and my head swam like I'd been tossed in a current. Dishes crashed from my grip.
I could barely see, barely breathe. The head of service finally noticed, only to deliver a blow so strong it knocked me out cold.
When I came to, the party was over. The stack of dishes had grown, silently mocking me. But something strange had happened-rest. Brief and forced, yes, but rest nonetheless. My vision cleared, my bleeding slowed, and I could move again.
I scrubbed until the mountain of dishes turned into a gleaming fortress. Then I slumped in a corner, like the other slaves, but far away from them, as always. We waited for release, for permission to vanish into the night.
I didn't know where my quarters were. I didn't dare ask. I trailed the others from a distance, hoping to memorize the way.
Outside, the air hummed with rumors. The girl who'd been ripped apart earlier? That was the final straw.
The Alpha, they whispered, was going to bring wrath. The conversation shifted, turns out, no one was mourning her. She and her sister had once been powerful.
Zeta's daughters turned slaves. Haughty and feared. Their parents exchanged freedom for their daughters' lives, exile in exchange for blood.
Eventually, the crowd thinned. Then scattered.
And I was alone again.
Exhaustion weighed down my steps. I wandered in circles for what felt like an eternity. I couldn't find my room, couldn't think clearly. My wolf, if she were still alive would've guided me. But she'd been quiet since Thornclaw, and I missed her like a phantom limb.
I leaned against a building, just for a second. Closed my eyes.
Something shuffled.
I ignored it.
Then… footsteps.
But it wasn't until the scent hit me that I snapped awake. That familiar, electrifying scent. Him.
"Still alive," came the low, amused voice from the shadows.
I turned too fast. My vision blurred, but I caught the surprise in his tone.
"Alpha," I whispered, bowing instinctively.
He chuckled. "You're still alive."
Was that disappointment or curiosity?
"Come here," he ordered.
My body obeyed before my mind could resist. His presence swallowed me whole, pushing out every thought, every pain.
He grabbed my neck. I hissed.
In one swift move, he slammed me against a tree. His voice was a whisper against my ear. "I remember now. I said the only way you leave Thornclaw is through me. Your life belongs to me."
My wolf stirred, eager, and breathless.
"You've always been yours, Alanna. Fierce. Independent. But not anymore."
His words made my skin hum. I needed him to touch me. To do something.
"You offered yourself to me," he growled. "And now, I've come to collect."
He touched my hand, too hard, and I gasped. He stilled. Then… stepped back.
My wolf growled. I wanted to scream.
"Your wolf is supposed to be dead," he said through clenched teeth.
I swallowed. I thought so too. Until he touched me.
His hand tightened around my throat again. My breath hitched.
Then, without warning, he yanked me into the light, eyes raking over my battered form.
His snarl shattered the air.
And then he was gone.
Just… gone.
I blinked. Once. Twice. Was that real? A fever dream?
No. My wolf was whimpering inside me, faint but there. She'd stayed quiet, hidden. But now, she stirred.
Joy bloomed in my chest. I staggered forward, letting instinct guide me.
My senses turned out to be right because I walked into a familiar building. But just then, a fist slammed into my stomach.
I fell back and out of the building.
"Did you think I'd let you off the hook?" The sister of the dead girl growled. "I don't care about any Alpha's brand. I'm going to end your life, Bitch!"
She swung again and I stepped out of the way. I was tired of the bullshit. In my past life, I'd been trained more severely than every single person who had laid their hands on me in the past few hours.
I also had more skills than those foolish guards and torturers who had maltreated me for the last few weeks.
Maybe it was because I could feel my wolf or maybe it was because I was tired but I wasn't going to let her lay hands on me again tonight.
She swerved angrily and lunged at me. I duked, picked up a rock, and smashed it into her face. Her eyes widened and she made a surprised sound as she toppled to the ground. For someone who was very volatile, she was stupidly weak.
I walked past her and into the building. I found my door. A parcel lay before it. In it was a key and a few other essentials. I opened my door, locked myself in, and fell on the dusty bed into deep and much needed slumber.
It was now home, whatever that meant here.