My Alpha Sold Me to a Rival Pack

The Alpha Suite faced east, designed so the morning sun would hit the Alpha’s face first, waking them to lead. I was packing my life into a single duffel bag while the sunset bled red across the balcony—the last sunset I would see from this room.

"Leave the furniture," Jackson said from the doorway. He didn't even have the decency to come inside. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, watching me with that detached, cold stare that had replaced his warmth. "Mariah wants to redecorate. She says the dark wood is too masculine for a nursery."

A nursery. The word was a calculated strike, aimed directly at the empty space in my womb where a pup should be.

"The basement quarters are damp, Jackson," I said, my voice steady as I folded a silk blouse. "If you want me to die of pneumonia, just use the executioner’s blade. It’s faster."

"The Omega Quarters are sufficient for your rank," he countered, his voice devoid of mercy. "You aren't the Alpha Female anymore, Lina. You're barely a pack member. And Mariah... she carries the future of Silvercrest. She needs space. She needs comfort."

I didn't argue. Arguing with a man drunk on stolen power was useless. instead, I walked to the loose floorboard under the heavy oak dresser. I knelt, ignoring the sharp protest of my damaged knees, and pried it open.

"What is that?" Jackson asked, stepping forward, suspicion narrowing his eyes.

I pulled out a small, battered tin box. Inside was a toy wooden soldier and a silver compass—Timothy’s. The only things I had left of the brother whose death had paved Jackson's road to the throne.

"Just trash," I lied smoothly, shoving the box into my bag before he could see the crest on the compass. I zipped the bag shut and slung it over my shoulder. The weight was heavy, but the weight in my chest was heavier.

I walked past him without looking up. "Enjoy the view, Jackson. The sun sets quickly up here."

The descent was a humiliation in itself. Down the grand staircase, past the whispering maids who averted their eyes, through the kitchen where the cooks went silent, and finally, down the narrow, creaking steps to the basement. The air grew heavy with the scent of mildew and bleach. The Omega Quarters were essentially converted storage cells—concrete floors, no windows, and a cot with a thin mattress.

I threw my bag on the cot and sat down. I didn't cry. Tears were for people who had hope. I had something better: I had a plan.

Hours later, the heavy metal door creaked open. A sliver of light cut through the darkness, followed by the familiar scent of pine and rain. Elias.

He slipped inside, closing the door silently behind him. In his hands, he held a tray of food—roast chicken and warm bread, stolen from the Alpha’s table.

"He’s a dead man," Elias growled, his voice vibrating with a suppressed snarl. He set the tray on the wobbly side table and began pacing the small cell. "Putting a Hudson in the basement? I should tear his throat out tonight."

"Eat first. Kill later," I said, breaking off a piece of bread. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the drop in blood sugar. I hadn't eaten since yesterday. " sit, Elias. Tell me what you found."

Elias stopped pacing. He pulled a folded sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket and handed them to me. "You were right. The accounts are bleeding."

I squinted in the dim light. The numbers were damning. "He's not just spending it," I murmured, tracing the columns. "He's transferring it. 'Consulting fees' to a shell company in the Obsidian territory?"

"He's paying them off," Elias said, crouching in front of me. "He's selling Silvercrest piece by piece to Mariah’s father to keep his support. If the pack finds out..."

"They won't believe us without proof of something worse," I said. The embezzlement was bad, but it wasn't enough to dethrone an Alpha. We needed the blood. "Elias, do you remember the rumors about Jackson’s old crew? The rogues he ran with before I saved him?"

Elias nodded slowly. "Most were hunted down."

"Not all," I whispered. "There’s a rumor of one called 'The Ghost.' A tracker named Dante Cruz. He was seen near the northern border last week. If anyone knows what really happened the night Timothy died, it’s him."

Elias’s eyes widened. "You want me to hunt a ghost?"

"I want you to bring him to me," I said, gripping his hand. "Alive."

The next morning, I made my way to the infirmary. My wrist was throbbing with a vengeance, the silver scars reacting to the dampness of the basement. I needed painkillers, but more importantly, I needed information.

Vera, the pack Healer, jumped when I entered. She was a small, nervous woman with kind eyes, one of the few who still curtsied when she saw me.

"Miss Lina," she gasped, rushing over to guide me to a stool. "I heard about... the basement. I’m so sorry."

"It’s fine, Vera," I said, offering her my scarred wrist. "Just the usual ache. Do you have the salve?"

She busied herself with jars and bandages, her hands trembling slightly. "The Alpha... he ordered me to prioritize the Luna’s care. Supplies are being diverted to the Alpha Suite."

"Of course," I said softly. "Pregnancy is delicate. How is the heir coming along? Have you heard the heartbeat yet?"

Vera froze. The jar in her hand clattered onto the metal tray. She looked around the empty clinic before leaning in close, her voice barely a whisper.

"I haven't examined her, Lina."

My pulse quickened. "What do you mean? You're the Head Healer."

"She refuses," Vera hissed, her eyes wide with fear. "Every time I try to get near her with the ultrasound or even just to check her vitals, she throws a fit. She says she has her own specialist from Obsidian. And... the smell."

"The vanilla?" I asked.

"It’s not just vanilla," Vera said, wrinkling her nose. "It’s layers of it. Industrial strength. Masking agents. Usually, by now, I’d be able to smell the change in her hormones. The scent of milk and new life. But on her? Nothing. Just perfume and... emptiness."

A cold, sharp smile touched my lips for the first time in days.

"Thank you, Vera," I said, sliding off the stool. "That is the best medicine you could have given me."

Jackson thought he had buried me in the dark. He forgot that wolves can see in the dark. And now, I knew exactly where to aim my bite.