THE ALPHA'S CURSED BRIDE

***VERA***

The metal clamped hard against my wrists, cold and merciless. Each rattle of the chain felt like a taunt.

"Why am I being held?" I demanded, stumbling as two guards yanked me toward the packhouse. My voice cracked, but not from fear - at least, I told myself it wasn't.

They didn't answer. One tightened the manacle and I bit my lip as the iron dug into my skin. My wolf whimpered inside me, too weak to help.

"Oh, so now I'm a criminal? You're going to bind me because I dared to stand up for myself?" I twisted in their grip and glared at the soldiers. "Because I fought back against a group of spoiled girls who cornered me? That makes me the crazy one?"

The taller guard tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. The world tilted and I stared upside-down at the dirt path as we moved.

"Let go of me!" I thrashed, wriggling against his back, but he was solid as a mountain. My stomach churned with every step.

"The Alpha said you're to be held," he finally said, voice flat. "He called you his breeder."

The word cracked like a whip.

Breeder.

I froze. "In other words," I spat, "his sex slave. Is your Alpha that desperate? Didn't he just claim a Luna - my sister, no less - and he thinks I'll agree to-" I broke off with a bitter laugh. "Not in any lifetime."

"You don't have a choice, miss." The other guard didn't even look at me. His tone sounded almost apologetic.

The path swung beneath me and all I saw was red. If I ever got my hands on a dagger and the goddess granted me one chance, I would bury it in Blake's chest without hesitation.

They carried me through the towering gates of the packhouse. The scent of pine and stone should have been comforting - it had been home once. Now it reeked of power and cruelty.

Inside, the air smelled of lavender oil and polished wood. Blake's maids swarmed me, their hands soft but mechanical as they stripped away the dirt of the scuffle. They scrubbed my skin, dressed me in silks that weren't mine, painted me like a doll. My wrists stayed shackled the whole time; iron cut into the illusion of glamour.

It was obscene - dressing me like a prize while the chains clinked with every movement.

Tricia. My chest ached at the thought of her. If she knew Blake had locked me up and dressed me like this, would she defend me - or would she smile and look away because she was Luna now?

The maids tried to curl my hair and I jerked my head aside. "Stop. Enough." My voice broke, louder this time. "I want to speak to the Alpha."

One of them froze, brush in hand. The others glanced at each other like startled deer.

"Do not touch me again," I snarled, patience gone.

The head maid cleared her throat softly. "I'm sorry, miss, but the Alpha is currently in a meeting with the Alpha of Furcroft. He'll attend to you afterward."

Attend. As if I were a guest. As if I hadn't been dragged here in chains.

"Attend to me," I scoffed. "You mean try to bed me. Untie me! You're holding me against my will - doesn't anyone in this house know rights?"

The head maid's eyes flickered, just for a moment, with something like sympathy. "Under other circumstances, perhaps. But when the Alpha orders..." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Everyone obeys."

My wrists throbbed, swollen under the iron. I lifted them toward her, voice quieter now, almost desperate. "They're cutting into me. Do you want me dead before I even meet him?"

The maid hesitated, then sighed and nodded at a guard. Reluctantly he unlocked the cuffs around my hands, though my ankles stayed bound. Relief rushed through me, pins and needles in my fingers.

"It isn't wise to free a slave," the guard muttered. "She'll try to escape."

Slave. The word made bile rise in my throat.

Before I could reply, the room hushed.

"Special demands," one maid whispered, bowing her head. "The Alpha is here."

The room stiffened. Faces became masks.

Then he entered.

Alpha Blake. His presence filled the chamber like smoke, heavy and suffocating. His eyes found me immediately, and a slow smile curled his lips.

"Ah, Vera," he purred, stepping closer. "Darling Vera. Ever so innocent."

His hand slid down my collarbone, tracing lower, and I flinched. Rage flared hot and uncontainable. I spat in his face.

Gasps rippled through the room.

A guard surged forward, hand raised to strike, but Blake lifted a finger. "Enough."

He wiped his cheek with infuriating calm, then held out his hand. A maid rushed a cloth into his palm. He cleaned himself slowly, then pressed the damp rag to my lips and forced it in.

"Your first act of service," he murmured. "Get used to it."

They released my chains and shoved me to my feet. My knees shook, but I forced myself upright.

They shoved a jug into my hands and guided me behind him into the great hall.

The moment I entered, smoke choked my lungs. Thick, pungent, clung to my hair and clothes. The hall was grand - polished tables, carved beams, silver goblets - but it felt like a gilded cage.

Two packs sat across from each other. Blake's men lounged like they owned the room. Opposite them, the Alpha of Furcroft and his entourage sat straight-backed, silent, assessing.

I kept my head low and moved from table to table, pouring drinks. The chains around my ankles clinked softly with each step.

But someone stared. Heavy. Sharp. Pinning me.

When I dared to look up, my heart stumbled.

Eyes. Icy blue, glinting in the haze. Familiar. The same eyes I had seen watching me from the trees before.

And they were fixed on me.

He smiled, slow and deliberate. My stomach flipped.

Alpha Conry.

The air seemed to crackle as he leaned forward. "Let's get this discussion started. I want to purchase the small packland between our borders."

My hands trembled as I poured. His voice rolled over me like thunder - commanding, dangerous, yet strangely steadying.

"That pack isn't for sale," Blake said smoothly.

"Why not?" Conry's gaze never left me.

Blake smirked. "Because it was entrusted to me. Not everything can be bought."

"You put it up for trade, Blake." Conry's voice hardened. "Quit lying and name your price."

"Twice the market value," Blake sneered.

"I'll pay the market value."

"Twice."

The tension coiled like a bowstring ready to snap. My pulse hammered in my throat.

Then Conry's words cut through the smoke like a blade.

"I'll pay twice... if she comes with it."

Silence. Every head turned.

My heart stopped.

Please, goddess. Not me.

But Conry pointed. Directly at me.

"She?" Blake chuckled. "Conry, you've got terrible taste. She's hardly worth a copper. She was to be one of my playthings." His sneer crawled across my skin. "I could give you someone prettier."

For the first time I didn't resist the thought. If it meant leaving Blake's shadow, I would gladly be sold to a stranger.

Conry's expression didn't change. "I don't want prettier. I want her."

The room held its breath.

Blake studied him, then burst into laughter. "Fine. Why argue? She's yours."

A scroll was brought and signed.

My hands trembled as the realization settled. I wasn't free. But I was no longer Blake's.

Conry looked at me fully now, his eyes burning. "What's your name, little one?"

I froze. "Me?"

A glass shattered against the wall beside my head, exploding shards at my feet.

"Of course he's talking to you," Blake barked.

Conry's voice sliced across him. "Blake." Calm but edged. "She is mine now. If you lay a hand on her, you insult me. And I don't forgive insults."

The room stilled. Blake's lips thinned and he leaned back in silence.

Conry returned his gaze to me. His voice softened but his eyes still pinned me. "Your name, Diva?"

The word curled around me like smoke.

"Vera," I whispered, forcing strength into my tone. "Vera Stormborn."

His lips curved into something that made my pulse jump.

"Quite ethereal," he murmured.