Bound to the Pack- Breeder for the Triplets Alpha's

"Faster, Marcus. You are so much better than her."

The voice came from inside my step-sister's bedroom. I stopped dead in the hallway. My hand froze on the golden doorknob. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Do you think she knows?" Marcus asked. His voice was muffled, breathless.

"Who cares if Belinda knows?" Xiana laughed loudly. "She is too weak to do anything about it. She is just a useless Omega. She has not even shifted yet. You belong to me now."

I pushed the door open.

My boyfriend was in my step-sister's bed. They did not even bother to pull the sheets up. Marcus looked at me. He did not look sorry. He looked annoyed that I had interrupted them.

"You forgot to knock, Belinda," Xiana said.

She leaned back against the headboard. She smiled at me. Her blonde hair was a mess. "But since you are here, you can fetch us some water. I am thirsty."

My chest hurt so much I thought my ribs would crack. I felt like I could not breathe. "Marcus? How could you do this to me?"

Marcus rolled his eyes. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, stop crying. You are boring, Belinda. You never want to have fun. You are too pure. Xiana knows how to treat a man."

"You are my chosen mate," I whispered. My voice cracked. "We promised each other."

"We never marked each other," Marcus sneered. He looked at me with pure disgust. "I am the future Beta of this pack. I need a strong, powerful woman by my side. Not a weak little maid who cleans the pack house."

Xiana stood up. She walked over to her vanity table and picked up a crystal decanter. She poured two glasses of dark red wine. She held one out to me.

"Do not be dramatic," Xiana said. Her voice dripped with fake sympathy. "You knew this was coming. The entire pack knows Marcus belongs to me. You were just keeping him warm until I was ready for him."

I slapped the glass out of her hand. The wine spilled over the expensive white rug.

Xiana's eyes flashed with anger. Her inner wolf surfaced for a second, making her eyes glow yellow. "You stupid bitch. Clean that up right now."

"I am leaving," I said. I took a step back. "I am telling the Alpha about this."

"My father will not care," Xiana laughed loudly. "You are not his real daughter. You are a stray he took in out of pity. But I have a better idea."

She poured another glass. She walked up to me and grabbed my hair. Her grip was like iron. It burned my scalp.

"Drink it," she ordered. "Drink to my new mating with Marcus. If you do not drink it, I will tell the pack guards you attacked me. They will strip you of your rank and banish you to the rogue lands tonight. You would not survive one hour out there."

I looked at Marcus. He crossed his arms and looked out the window. He did not care. No one was going to help me. No one ever helped me in this house.

I took the glass. My hands were shaking violently. I drank the wine. It tasted overly sweet and heavy on my tongue.

"Good girl," Xiana smiled cruelly. She let go of my hair and pushed me back.

Almost immediately, my legs felt heavy. The room started to spin in slow circles. The edges of my vision turned blurry and dark.

"What did you do?" I slurred. I fell to my knees. The wooden floor felt freezing cold against my skin.

Xiana crouched down next to me. She traced her perfectly manicured nail down my cheek.

"The East Coast mafia boss called," Xiana whispered in my ear. "Alpha Derek King. He demanded a bride from our pack to settle my father's border disputes. I am not marrying a ruthless, heavily tattooed monster. I belong with Marcus."

"No," I tried to say, but my tongue was numb.

"Yes," Xiana laughed again. It was the last sound I wanted to hear. "You are going to take my place in his bed. When you wake up, you will be his problem. Have fun being the mafia's breeding stock, sister."

She kicked me hard in the stomach. The pain flared hot and sharp, but the darkness pulled me under completely before I could even scream.

I woke up to the smell of old money, rain, and dark pine woods.

My stomach hurts.

My head throbbed. I opened my eyes slowly. The room was massive and painted in dark charcoal colors. It looked like a cold castle. The bed I was lying on was huge. The silk sheets were pitch black.

I tried to sit up. My body ached from the kick.

"You snore."

The voice came from the deep shadows near the large window. It was deep, rough, and completely void of emotion.

I pulled the sheets up to my chin. My hands were trembling. "Who is there?"

A man stepped into the dim light.

He was incredibly tall. His chest was bare and covered in dark, aggressive ink. Skulls, wolves, and jagged lines wrapped around his muscular arms and torso. He wore low hanging black sweatpants. His hair was dark and messy. But his eyes were the most terrifying part of him. They were a piercing, icy silver.

Alpha Derek King. The most feared mafia boss in the werewolf world.

He walked toward the bed. He held a glass of amber liquid in his large hand. He did not look at me like I was a person. He looked at me like I was a piece of trash he had stepped on.

"You look terrible," he said. His voice was a low growl. He took a sip of his drink. "Your pack sent me a pathetic little mouse."

"I am not supposed to be here," I said. My voice was raspy. "My sister drugged me. I am Belinda. Not Xiana."

Derek stopped at the foot of the bed. He looked down at me. A cruel, mocking smirk formed on his lips.

"Do you think I give a damn what your name is?" he asked. "Belinda. Xiana. It does not matter to me at all."

"But the marriage arrangement..."

"Is a business transaction," he interrupted sharply. "I asked your Alpha for a female. He sent one. I do not care if you were drugged, dragged, or thrown in a sack. You are here."

I swallowed hard. The terror was starting to set in. "I want to go home."

Derek laughed. It was a dark, humorless sound that sent chills down my spine. "Home? You do not have a home anymore. You belong to me."

He set his glass down on the nightstand with a loud clatter. He leaned over the bed. He grabbed my jaw. His fingers dug into my soft skin. He was so strong it terrified me.

"Let go of me," I cried out.

"Listen to me very carefully," he growled. His breath smelled like expensive whiskey and winter mint. "I am not your mate. I am not your boyfriend. I am your owner. You are going to stay in this house, and you are going to do exactly what I say."

"I will not be your slave," I spat. I tried to pull away from his grip, but it was useless.

He tightened his hold. His silver eyes darkened with pure malice. "You will be whatever I tell you to be. I need an heir to secure my mafia territories. You are going to give me one."

"I would rather die," I said. Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Derek scoffed. He let go of my face and wiped his hand on his pants, like touching me made him dirty.

"You are dramatic and annoying," he said coldly. "And frankly, you are not even my type. You are too skinny. Your hair is a mess. Your scent is weak and pathetic. But a contract is a contract."

His words hurt. They stung more than the physical pain. He was breaking me down before I even stood a chance.

"Why are you so cruel?" I asked.

"Because the world is cruel, little wolf," he snapped. He crossed his tattooed arms over his broad chest. "Grow up. There is no romance here. There are no happily ever afters. There is only survival. I do not do feelings."

He walked toward the door. The muscles in his back flexed with every movement. He stopped with his hand on the heavy brass doorknob.

"Get out of that bed and wash yourself," he ordered without looking back at me. "You smell like cheap wine and fear. It is disgusting."

"And if I refuse?" I challenged him. I did not know where the sudden courage came from.

Derek slowly turned his head. His eyes met mine, and the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"If you refuse, I will throw you in the dungeon with the rogue wolves my men captured last night," he said. His voice was completely flat. He meant every single word. "They have not seen a female in months. They would love to play with a stubborn little Omega."

My blood ran cold. I could not speak. The threat hung in the air like a blade.

"That is what I thought," Derek smirked. "Be downstairs in ten minutes. We are getting married today."

He opened the door.

"And Belinda?" he added.

I looked at him, shivering under the thin silk sheets.

"Do not wear white," he said with a look of pure disgust. "You are far too ruined for that."

He slammed the door shut.

The loud echo rattled the windows. I sat alone in the massive bed of the mafia Alpha. My sister had sold me to a monster. My boyfriend had betrayed me. And my new husband looked at me like I was nothing but dirt on his shoe.

I pulled my knees to my chest. I did not know how I was going to survive in this house.

Then, the heavy brass door handle slowly began to turn again.

I held my breath. Was Derek back? Was he going to hurt me for talking back to him?