
ALPHA'S DARK PAYMENT. HE REJECTED HER. HIS WOLF CHOSE HER.
"Say it."
Elara's throat tightened.
"I belong to you," she whispered. "I am your slave."
Kane Blackthorn's gaze hardened.
"And?"
Her voice broke.
"I am... your sex slave."
The Alpha stepped closer, his shadow swallowing her whole.
"You will expect no kindness," he said coldly. "No affection. No protection. You exist to obey me."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Strip, Elara."
Elara once lived in the Blood Moon Pack as the daughter of a powerful man.
Now she lives in the Alpha's palace as something far worse than a servant.
A slave.
Alpha Kane Blackthorn rules his pack with an iron will and an untouchable reputation.
Mercy is not something he offers twice.
And Elara belongs to him now.
She should hate him.
She tries to.
But the deeper she falls into the Alpha's dark world, the more dangerous things become.
Because Kane Blackthorn doesn't look at her like a slave.
He looks at her like something far more dangerous.
Something he might never let go.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 2
The palace was colder than the execution ground.
Elara hadn't expected that.
She'd imagined warmth-fireplaces, servants, polished wood, gold accents like the storybooks described.
Instead, the halls were carved from stone so dark it swallowed the light. Torches flickered in long corridors, throwing shadows that twisted across the walls like restless spirits. Her footsteps echoed with every step as the guards escorted her inside.
She didn't know where they were taking her.
No one spoke.
Every turn felt like descending deeper into the lion's den-into the heart of the predator who had taken everything from her yet spared her out of some twisted sense of justice.
Or cruelty.
They finally stopped before a heavy iron door.
"Inside," a guard ordered.
Elara hesitated. "What... is this?"
The guard's jaw tightened. "Your quarters."
Quarters.
A laugh almost escaped her lips.
It sounded too pretty a word for a cage.
They pushed her inside.
The room was small, windowless, and lit by a single lantern. A narrow bed stood against the wall, stiff and cold. Beside it was a basin and a folded piece of cloth. No blankets. No warmth.
Just a cell.
Elara stood in the center of the room, breathing shallowly, her hands trembling as the door slammed behind her.
Her father was dead.
Her life had ended with him.
And now...
Now she belonged to the Alpha.
Kane Blackthorn.
The man whose eyes held a storm she didn't understand.
The man she feared more than death.
But tonight, all she felt was empty.
She slumped to the floor, hugging her knees as the lantern burned, releasing thick, dark smoke into the air, casting faint shadows on the walls. The cold seeped into her bones until she couldn't tell where she ended and the stone began.
"Papa..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why?"
Silence was the only answer she got.
And thousands of distant footsteps, heavy, moving through the palace.
Not guards.
Not servants.
Him.
They stopped outside her cell.
Elara's heart pounded, her breathing heavy and fast.
The latch shifted.
The door opened an inch.
And Alpha Kane's silhouette filled the doorway, tall and intimidating.
"Elara," he said quietly.
Not harshly.
Not cruelly.
But in a way that made her heart twist painfully, as if her name tasted bitter on his tongue.
"Your punishment begins now."
**** ALPHA KANE'S CHAMBER
Inside the royal chamber, Kane was getting dressed by the maids. His face was totally expressionless and cold as they did all that. It's not a new thing anymore; even though nobody would dare look straight at his face, they were used to his cold and dark expressions.
They put the royal black attire on him, a robe known and feared by many for the terrible memories it held. His long hair was styled and packed in a loose ponytail.
"Where is Luciano?" he suddenly asked.
The maids all stepped away from him with their heads bowed.
"We are all done, Alpha," they said at the same time...
"Leave," he scoffed and mind-linked his beta.
**Assemble the elders!**
The maids bowed once again and sprinted out, not wasting a second.
Almost immediately, Luciano, his beta, walked in. A young man in his early thirties, he was wearing his usual black outfit. Aside from being his beta, he was the closest family to him and also his childhood friend.
Kane was already staring out the window with his two hands behind him when Luciano entered his chamber. He bowed behind him, even though Kane had told him to stop bowing before him when they were alone.
"Alpha, it's time for the meeting; the elders are all waiting in the throne room," Luciano reported.
"Stop bowing when we are alone; it doesn't look good on you," Kane scoffed and stormed away.
Luciano chuckled and followed him behind.
**"You're the Alpha; he should always bow before you," **Tyrant, his wolf, said.
"Fine," Kane rolled his eyes and cut off the link.
*
*
*
*. ROYAL HALL
The elders were all on their feet, standing and waiting for Alpha Kane. They had been discussing the right punishment to be served, not just to judge but also to please the affected families. Of course, all those girls, after being sold, were killed, turned into sex slaves and breeders, losing their freedom, while the unfortunate ones died.
The judgment must be fair enough. Even though the daughter wasn't the one who committed the crime, those young girls didn't do anything wrong either.
Moments later, Alpha Kane appeared, with Luciano beside him and five able-bodied warriors.
All the elders bowed until Kane and Luciano took their seats.
Kane gave the head warrior a sign, and immediately Elara was brought out before the Alpha and the elders.
"Kneel!" Luciano snapped.
Elara swallowed and went on her knees, far away from where the elders stood. She couldn't even see their faces clearly, but she knew them, and none could breathe when her father stood.
Silence stretched until Kane cleared his throat, staring at the elders.
"We, the elders, have already discussed this, and we have come to a conclusion," one of the elders said.
Another cleared his throat. "We have decided that the Alpha's judgment will please and satisfy the affected families."
The throne room fell silent once again, all eyes on Kane, expecting him to speak up and give the final verdict.
Elara was trembling where she knelt; she would take any punishment except for death.
"Please, goddess, let him spare my life," she prayed in her head, her heart beating fast, fear and agony written all over her.
Finally, Alpha Kane spoke.
"Beta Draven has been executed," he said.
Elara swallowed.
"He has paid for his sins, and his daughter, Elara, will become the pack's sex slave; she will experience what those young wolves of my pack experienced." Kane paused, and there was total silence.
Her pains will be doubled; my verdict will be passed down from my reign to the other Alphas to come. Sorrow shall be her second name.
Anyone among you who wishes to share her with me should step forward," Kane muttered.
The elders blinked at each other in silence.
"Step forward or remain silent!" Alpha Kane roared.
Nobody moved.
"Elara will become the royal sex slave and will never know peace until her eyelids close in death," Alpha Kane declared.
"This is my verdict!"
You may also like

7.8
I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders.
But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked.
I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint.
The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment.
I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever.
The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration.
"Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me."

7.7
Deidre went to the clinic and learned she was finally pregnant, but her failing heart meant carrying the baby would kill her.
Before she could process the grief, she received an anonymous photo of her husband, Danial, tenderly escorting a heavily pregnant woman into a VIP hospital.
The woman was his cousin, Daria.
Following them, Deidre overheard Danial call her a "sterile decoration," promising to get rid of her while securing a Cayman trust fund for his illegitimate child.
The nightmare only worsened when Daria gloatingly confessed to a horrifying truth.
Daria had stolen the credit for saving Danial in a fire—a heroic act that had actually destroyed Deidre's heart.
Even more sickening, Daria had bribed a doctor two years ago to fake Deidre's ectopic pregnancy, tricking Danial into authorizing the surgery that murdered their perfectly healthy baby daughter.
When a grief-stricken Deidre attacked the murderer, Danial furiously shoved his wife to the ground.
Ignoring her heart spasms and gasps for air, he threw her out into a freezing New York blizzard to die.
Lying in the snow, Deidre's love turned to pure ash as she realized she had sacrificed her body and her child for a blind monster.
But she didn't die that night.
Rescued by Danial's biggest Wall Street rival, Deidre marched into her husband's office the next morning alongside New York's most ruthless divorce lawyer.
"Sign it, or I'll freeze your offshore trust and burn your empire to the ground."

8.3
"Strangers in the dark can change your life in the light."
Evelyn never meant to uncover the truth.
But one question won't leave her mind
What's really on those tapes?
What begins as curiosity drags her into a world of secrets, danger, and a man who is everything she should fear.
Lucas is darkness wrapped in temptation.
Ruthless. Dangerous. Untouchable.
He warns her away.
He gives her a chance to run.
But Evelyn doesn't.
Because there's something about him that pulls her closer even when every instinct scream to escape.
He's the villain everyone fears.
And the one she can't stop craving.
In a world where nothing is safe and desire is a weapon, Evelyn must decide:
Run from the monster...
or fall straight into his arms.
Because something can be both delicate and violent.
And loving Lucas might be the most dangerous choice she'll ever make.

8.1
The sound of my bone snapping echoed through the bathroom like a gunshot.
Austen didn't even blink as he broke my hand for the ninety-sixth time.
His reason? I was in the shower and missed a call from Joyce, the woman he believes saved his life fifteen years ago.
But the nightmare didn't end there. When Joyce cut her own arm with glass and framed me for poisoning her, Austen didn't check the evidence.
He dragged me to the damp basement and picked up a mechanical drill coated in pure silver.
"This hand threw the vase," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
He drilled a hole straight through my palm.
He gave Joyce the precious healing serum for a tiny scratch, while leaving me with permanent nerve damage, claiming my pain was the only way to pay his life debt to her.
He calls this justice. He calls me the villain.
But he is a blind, arrogant fool.
He doesn't know that fifteen years ago, it was me who crawled into that burning car. It was my White Wolf blood that healed him. Joyce just stole the credit when I passed out.
Looking at the smoking hole in my hand, the last ember of love finally died.
I opened my secure server and messaged his sworn enemy, Alpha Dalton.
"I have the fortress blueprints. The price is extraction."
Tonight, his submissive wife dies, and the Architect goes rogue.

8.1
On my wedding day, the wedding planner looked at me with pity in her eyes.
She told me the groom had called with a last-minute request. He wanted the name on the floral arch changed from "Elena" to "Sofia."
Five years of loyalty to Dante Romero, and I found out he was planning a "secret" ceremony with his mistress an hour before ours.
He claimed she was dying of cancer. He said it was her final wish to be a bride, and that as a good mafia wife, I should understand. He swore it was just charity.
But I had seen the texts where he called me "furniture."
I had watched him step over my body when I fell down the stairs at a club, just so he could leave with her.
And this morning, I watched Sofia walk into the hotel lobby wearing *my* custom French lace wedding dress, smirking as she clung to his arm.
Dante thinks I'm crying in the bridal suite.
He thinks I will sit in the front row of his "fake" wedding and wait for my turn like a dutiful puppet.
He is wrong.
I wiped my tears and picked up my phone. I didn't cancel the wedding date. I just changed the location to the ballroom next door.
And I changed the groom.
As Dante says his vows to his mistress, I am walking down the aisle to meet the only man the Romero family fears.
The Reaper.

8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.