The Alpha's Blood debt Vessel

The sunlight hitting the floor was too bright, too cold, and far too early. Giovanni shifted under the heavy silk sheets, her body aching in places she didn't know could hurt. Every muscle felt like it had been put through a meat grinder.

She was nineteen years old. She had spent her entire life being told that her wedding night would be the start of her real life. Her father had promised that the Van-Doren name would protect her, that she'd never have to worry about the pack's scrap-heaps again.

She felt like a fool.

The shower was running. Through the frosted glass of the bathroom door, she could see the silhouette of the Alpha. Even through the steam, his presence was suffocating.

Giovanni sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. Her shoulder throbbed where he had marked her. The skin was hot and swollen, the jagged puncture wounds of his canines a permanent brand of his ownership.

The water stopped. A moment later, Russell walked out with a towel wrapped around his low waist. His chest was a roadmap of scars from battles and pack wars. He didn't even glance at her as he walked to the walk-in closet.

"Russell?" her voice was a dry rasp.

He stopped, his back to her. The muscles in his shoulders rippled. "You're awake."

"My shoulder... it hurts. And the injection Yvette gave me. I feel sick."

Russell finally turned around. He looked at her with the same clinical interest a scientist might give a lab rat. There was no romance in his eyes. No "good morning, wife."

"The sickness is a side effect of the fertility boosters," he said, his voice flat. "It will pass by noon. Yvette will be here at one for the second round."

Giovanni's heart skipped a beat. "Second round? Russell, I don't understand. I'm healthy. Why am I taking medicine? I thought we were going to... you know. Naturally."

Russell walked over to the bed. He leaned down, pinning her against the headboard with nothing but his shadow. He smelled like expensive soap and the metallic scent of an Alpha's power.

"Natural is slow," he murmured. He reached out, his thumb brushing over the mark on her shoulder. He didn't do it gently. He pressed down until she winced. "I don't have time for slow. I need the bloodline secured before the council meeting in the fall. You will take whatever Yvette gives you without question."

"You're scaring me," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "This doesn't feel like a marriage. It feels like a job."

"It is a job," Russell snapped, pulling his hand away as if she had burned him. "You were brought here for a purpose, Giovanni. Don't make me regret choosing you over the others."

"The others?"

He didn't answer. He turned back to the closet and pulled out a crisp white shirt.

"I have to go to the city. Declan will be outside the door. You stay in this room until Yvette arrives."

"I wanted to see the gardens," Giovanni said, her voice small. "My father said the estate was beautiful."

Russell paused while buttoning his cuffs. He looked at her through the mirror, his expression unreadable. "Your father said a lot of things to get that check cleared. You stay in the room, Giovanni. That's an order from your Alpha."

He didn't wait for her to cry. He didn't wait for her to argue. He grabbed his coat and walked out, the click of the door lock echoing like a gunshot in the silent room.

Giovanni sat in the middle of the massive bed, feeling smaller than she ever had in her life. She was the Luna of the most powerful pack in the state, and she was a prisoner in her own bedroom.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door. It wasn't the heavy, rhythmic knock of a guard. It was light. Playful.

The door opened, and Xavier stepped in. He wasn't supposed to be there. Russell had said no one but Yvette and the guards.

"You look like a lost puppy," Xavier said, leaning against the doorframe. He was holding a tray with a single cup of tea.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Giovanni said, wiping her eyes quickly. "Russell will be furious."

"Russell isn't here," Xavier smirked, walking toward the bed. He set the tea on the nightstand. "And I've never been very good at following my big brother's rules. Drink. It'll help with the nausea."

Giovanni looked at the tea suspiciously. "How do you know I'm nauseous?"

Xavier sat on the edge of the bed, much too close for comfort. "I know everything that happens in this house, Gio. I know about the injections. I know about the contract. And I know that you're sitting here wondering why your 'happily ever after' feels like a nightmare."

"He's just stressed," she defended, though her voice lacked conviction. "He has a lot on his shoulders."

"He has ice in his veins," Xavier corrected. He reached out, his fingers trailing along the edge of the silk sheet she was clutching. "He doesn't see you, Giovanni. To him, you're just a box to be checked. A means to an end."

"Stop saying that. He marked me. He claimed me."

Xavier leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He marked you because he had to. Do you even know who you replaced? Do you know about the girl who was in this bed before you?"

Giovanni froze. "What girl?"

Xavier's eyes flashed with a cruel sort of pity. "The one who wasn't 'functional' enough. The one who couldn't handle the injections. My brother doesn't accept failure, Giovanni. If you don't give him what he wants, you'll disappear just like she did."

"You're lying," she breathed, her heart racing.

"Am I?" Xavier stood up, heading back to the door. "Ask Yvette about the 'previous brides' when she comes to stick that needle in your arm. See if she can look you in the eye."

He paused at the door, his hand on the handle.

"By the way," he said, looking back over his shoulder. "The tea isn't from the kitchen. I made it myself. Unlike Russell, I actually prefer my women to be conscious and comfortable."

He slipped out just as the sound of heavy footsteps approached the hallway.

A moment later, the door swung open again. It wasn't Xavier. It was Yvette, and she wasn't alone. She was followed by two omegas carrying a medical kit.

"Time for your treatment, Giovanni," Yvette said, her face a mask of professional coldness. "Lie back and relax. This one might sting a bit more than the last."

Giovanni looked at the tray, then at the door, then at the silver needle Yvette was preparing.

"Wait," Giovanni said, her voice trembling. "Yvette, who was here before me? Xavier said there was someone else."

The room went deathly silent. Yvette's hand stopped mid-air. She slowly turned to look at Giovanni, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"Xavier has a big mouth," Yvette hissed. "And you have too many questions for a girl who was sold for her silence."

Yvette nodded to the two omegas. Before Giovanni could scream, they grabbed her arms, pinning her down to the mattress.

"No! Let me go!" Giovanni struggled, but the omegas were stronger.

Yvette stepped forward, the needle gleaming under the chandelier. "Don't fight it, dear. The Alpha wants a son. And one way or another, we're going to make sure he gets one."

As the needle pierced her skin, the front door slammed open downstairs. A man's voice roared, but it wasn't Russell's.

"Where is she?" the voice screamed. "Where is my daughter?"

Giovanni's eyes widened. That was her father's voice. But he sounded terrified.

"Stay still!" Yvette barked, pushing the plunger down.

Darkness began to creep into the edges of Giovanni's vision as the drug hit her bloodstream. Through the haze, she saw the bedroom door burst open. Her father stood there, blood dripping from a wound on his head.