Sold To The Ruthless Alpha Heir

Delphie POV:

The crystal glass felt cold against my mother's fingers.

I could feel the condensation, the slight tremor running through her hand and into mine.

Around us, the Great Hall of the Orr Pack was a swirl of noise and laughter. Pack members raised their glasses, their voices booming in celebration of the full moon. Luna Rosalind Orr, perched on her raised seat like a vulture on a throne, soaked in their adoration.

My mother, Jacqueline Harrington, and I hid in the most inconspicuous corner of the hall.

She squeezed my hand. Her palm was slick with sweat.

I was thirteen, old enough to understand the looks sent our way. They were like tiny, sharp stones—pity from some, contempt from most. We were a stain on their perfect celebration.

Rosalind's eyes, chips of obsidian, scanned the room. They passed over laughing couples and boisterous warriors, and then they found us. They locked onto my mother.

A slow, cruel smile spread across her painted lips.

She caught the eye of a younger girl, her own blood-cousin, Mina. A flicker of fear crossed Mina's face, but it was quickly replaced by resignation. She nodded.

Mina picked up a glass of dark red juice and started walking.

She was heading for the Luna.

Her path took her right past our corner. Just as she drew level with my mother, Mina's ankle suddenly tilted.

A small gasp escaped her lips, and the glass flew from her hand.

It all happened in slow motion. The arc of the glass, the dark red liquid splashing through the air.

It landed perfectly on the pristine white silk of Rosalind's expensive gown.

A giant, ugly red stain bloomed across the fabric. Like a fresh wound.

The music screeched to a halt.

Silence fell over the hall. Thick and heavy.

A piercing shriek cut through it. Rosalind's.

She suddenly stood up, her fingers trembling as she pointed at my mother.

"Jacqueline Harrington! You! You pushed her!"

My mother's face went white. She dropped my hand and fell to her knees. "Luna, it wasn't me, I swear—I've been standing right here, I never touched her..."

I lurched forward, a protest caught in my throat, but a hand clamped down on my arm. Hard.

My father, Alistair Orr, stood behind me. His grip was like iron.

"Don't move," he whispered, his voice cold as ice. His eyes were fixed on Rosalind, and they held a disturbing hint of approval.

Rosalind glided towards my mother. Her hand swung, and the crack of her palm against my mother's cheek echoed in the silent hall.

She grabbed a fistful of my mother's dark hair, yanking her head back.

"Lick it clean," Rosalind commanded, her voice dripping with venom.

A wave of snickering rippled through the crowd. No one moved to help.

Tears of pure, hot shame burned my eyes. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

My mother trembled on the floor. She lowered her head, her body contorting in humiliation as she actually moved to lick the stain from the hem of the dress.

For a split second, as her head dipped, I saw it. A flash of something in her eyes. Not fear. Not shame. It was cold. Hard. Calculating.

Then it was gone, washed away by a flood of tears.

Rosalind seemed to lose interest. She kicked out, her heel connecting with my mother's shoulder, sending her sprawling.

"Get out," she spat. "Don't dirty my sight."

Alistair pulled me back. He grabbed my mother from the floor like a sack of grain and dragged us both from the hall, the sound of laughter following us out into the cold night.

He didn't say a word until we were back in our damp, cramped room. He didn't even look at my mother, who had collapsed onto the thin mattress.

His cold eyes found me.

"Our Pack is weak," he said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "I need a powerful ally."

He paused, letting the words hang in the stale air.

"The Blackstone Pack's Alpha heir, Everet Scott. He needs a political match to appease the smaller families under his rule."

He pointed a finger at me. At my face.

"You," he said. "You are the bargaining chip."

The floor fell out from under me. The sting of my mother's humiliation vanished, replaced by the gaping, black abyss of my own future.

I was being sold.