★ RYKER

My fingers weaved carefully around the red piece of the coat's button, tightening the woven mold thread into the small hole.

"Your father awaits you in the carriage." Blaise, my beta walked into the room, his eyes void yet cloaked with something I couldn't decipher.

"What?" I scoffed.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that attitude."

He turned around, taking in the grey decor of my room as if he hadn't been here countless times.

"You're joining your father in the annual slave purchase?"

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, but I answered anyway. "Hmm." I drew in a quiet, slow breath. "I know you don't like the idea, even I don't but believe me, I'm nothing like my father."

Blaise didn't speak; instead, he brought out my body scent from the drawer and sprayed it over me, the fragrance embracing my skin like a veil.

"Look and smell good for a family practice."

"Blaise."

"Okay, okay, sorry," he uttered, holding his hands up in resignation.

.

.

As we arrived at the 'Red Den,' my wolf, Karl, stirred.

"Karl, what is it?" I asked but he didn't respond. I could feel how restless he was. I let out a low growl. Steadying my butt carefully on the intricate, red chair, my eyes wandered.

Something wasn't right, or is Karl against this journey like I was?

Inside, the spacious hall was decorated in dark, red curtains with large portraits of ancient drawings of naked women and men, hanging firmly against the wall. This den is said to be almost a hundred years old and its activities are an illegal but common practice amongst the strong people of different packs.

"Three...two...one... Sold!" The auctioneer screamed, and a young omega, red-haired, clad in a filthy robe, was sold. The conversation between Blaise and me surfaced in my head. My father, Alpha Rheagor, was known for not just being ruthless but also buying slaves annually, used for labor and, of course, pleasure.

He's called the 'pleasure monger, ' a name he takes pride in and I hate it that this year, I had to partake in his addiction. A recurring action he took a year after the death of my mother. Seated in this hall filled with greedy men, I couldn't help but feel unease.

Another werewolf omega was sold. Short, hair trimmed- almost bald, was bought by a young, chubby woman, probably an Alpha. As time passed, my stomach fluttered with nervousness.

Karl clawed at my inside the moment the next omega stepped in, an intoxicating scent hitting me. A mixture of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through like smoke, embedding into my nostrils like it was air. An alluring figure emerged from behind the curtain - white hair and striking eyes of the same colour, almost unusual, like a witch.

A low purr reverberated within me. I almost jumped from the seat.

"Are you okay?" My father turned to me briefly.

"Yes... yeah." My voice cracked.

"She was banished from her pack because she killed her mother. She has beautiful features but then, she's a witch." My father whispered, his head bent slightly toward my side. "I wonder who would spend a dime on a witch." He laughed.

"They're people who will, you never can tell," I answered truthfully and he nodded uninterested.

She was taken into a thick, metal cage where the others were being kept until they're bought.

Her eyes darted around the crowd, as if searching for her missing shoe.

It's even more intriguing as her snowy eyes took me in instantly. Those icy white orbs lingered on for an ample amount of time and Karl shifted again, more anxious than ever.

Did she feel it too? I mumbled inwardly. Her gaze shifted.

The man who had brought her in was different from the others. His eyes shone with bright mischievousness, head bent until they were inches from her ear. I watched as his lips moved up and down, and Karl flared, making my insides burn with feral rage.

"Damn it!"

"This, as you can see, is a rare breed. A virgin omega. Age 19. Very pleasing to the eyes and in bed," the Auctioneer said. "Oh, you don't believe me?" he added.

The brown robe she was wearing was pulled from her body, and oh, Moon goddess, my breath stuck in my throat.

Her body was pale with her pinkish nipples protruding instinctively from the cold air. Her hands moved almost instantly to cover them but the chains restricted the movement.

I could see the falling and rising of her chest, my feet tapping on the hard floor, holding myself from the last thread of patience before I rushed forward and dragged her from there.

"No one should see what's mine," Karl screamed. I almost gave in, my eyes narrowing into something dark, fighting with Karl as he tried to storm out until the auctioneer's voice snapped me out of the internal turmoil.

"The bidding starts at three hundred gold!..."

"Five hundred gold..."

"... One thousand gold."

"She looks weird but then, I love weird things. Two thousand gold." A pot-bellied man chuckled, and I imagined a hundred ways I would snap his head off his body.

Seeing that no one else spoke and the smug smile on the lips of the pot-bellied man made my jaw clench so tight it hurt, I broke the silent chaos. My voice echoed within the large hall.

"Six thousand gold."

The hall fell silent, and my father snapped his head to my side, his eyes wide as a saucer. Even his mouth didn't hold back. "Are you crazy?!"

"Do I hear six thousand gold?"

"I'm sorry, but I would have to make you break your records. This time, don't buy any slaves and let me do it." I smiled sheepishly.

"Last chance..."

"...Sold!"

"That's not it," he thundered, pointing his finger at the stage. "She's a witch and I swear to the moon goddess, I will kill her before the break of the day."

"Then you'll have to kill me first." The words left my lips before I could stop them but then... that was it.

"He would have to get past me before he harmed our mate." Karl spat.

My words were final.

I felt the gaze of the elites within the hall, their eyes undressing me, but worst, was my father's; dumbfounded, I would say.

I was ushered out quickly by one of the handlers who took me to a room. Red as the auction hall but warmer. Beside the spacious velvet sofa at the side of the room was a coal and short steel, burning in the intense furnace.

Shortly after, the door creaked open to reveal the witch Omega. Her eyes settled on me before moving to the other corner, landing on the hot coal.

I felt her breath stop.

˙❥ VALKYRIE

I didn't know when we reached another building. A different design from the 'holding' and the auction hall. There, seated and dressed in that same intimidating coat with a daunting look, was Him.

My heartbeat spiked.

I darted my eyes almost immediately but I wished I hadn't because it landed on the hot coal with a steel inside.

Nobody needed to tell me what it was.

I turned toward Doom, who had a playful smirk etched on his face, and back to the one man I now wish to kill; he wasn't smiling like Doom. No, his face was stoic, reserved and I wanted so badly to get into his head to see what he was thinking because no way an enthralling being could be this cruel.

As if to prove my thoughts wrong, his lips broke in a sudden, subtle arc.

"No, no, no!" I shook my head, unable to contain the long-held tears as reality finally dawned on me. A sob tore through my throat - raw and broken, making my whole body quiver in fear.

Doom pushed me forward, my head colliding with the sofa's edge. He cuffed my chain around a thick, iron pole that was situated in the middle of the room, a demarcation between where the cruel man was seated and the burning coal, but I didn't prepare for what came after as the hot, sizzling steel rod came in contact with my skin - on my neck. He was so swift, so smooth. So inhumane.

It was the slave branding.

An ear-splitting shout burst from my lips, sharp as a whip crack. I tossed and trashed, but I was held tightly until Doom was satisfied, until I couldn't scream anymore.

From my eyes that were weak and almost closed, I saw the small coal fire that had the rod in it, burning crystal red. My gaze shifted to see the smirk dancing on Alpha Ryker's face; a satisfying one.

The world blurred through my vision as I sobbed.

Removing the chain from the pole, Doom exited and the room was left to just the two of us. I stumbled back, trying to wedge the heavy robe over my shoulder and the chains that bit into my skin.

"Don't fret, girl," he whispered, like it was going to make me calm or make me hate him less. Writhing from the pain in the side of my neck, I tried to speak. "Why?"

"How do you have no wolf?"

"That's not the answer to my question." My lips trembled.

"Why?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper. "Because you're mine. Mine to own, to care and to possess."

Did he say care? I let out a shaking, muffled laugh. "You don't own me. I am not a chattel to be owned!"

"But you already are." His lips curved into a menacing arc.

Still on my knees, I trudged farther, farther away from him, from his daunting figure and mischievous smile but like when I was in the auction hall, the chains held me again.

"Why did you buy me?" My head moved in pain, shutting my eyes. There must be a reason I was bought by him. Why did he have to use so much money on me and not on other slaves that were auctioned before?

I'm a witch, a murderer, and wolf-less, yet he deemed it fit to spend ridiculously on me?

"You keep asking why, witch." He stood, his eyes throwing dagger stares while he walked toward me. I felt tremors wash over me. The hairs on my skin stood erect.

He crouched to my level, sliding a finger beneath my chin, exactly how Jayden had done. "Do I say... I was intrigued?" He turned to his side as if asking someone else before staring back at me. "I heard you killed your mother, it must have been fun. Easy."

"I didn't. Kill. My. Mother, and if I were truly a witch, I would pluck your ugly eyes out, feed them to the creatures of the sky, and make sure your mouth isn't left out!" I seethed boldly, mucus dripping from my nostrils.

"Exactly what I love..." he chuckled, returning to the sofa, "A sharp tongue. More reason why I'm grateful I spent a dime on you."

I gurgled loudly, tears filling my eyes and trailing down my cheeks.

I didn't speak, not when my neck was literally on fire, like the flesh was going to pull out.

The door burst open, revealing a muscular man with a long braided beard. He was Alpha Rheagor, the one Doom spoke about, the 'pleasure monger,' and now, I didn't know who to be more scared of.

Him? Or his son.

He walked slowly toward me, his hand grabbing my neck- the branding mark.

"Ahh!"

"You manipulative witch."

"Stop!" The word echoed fiercely from Ryker that the window pane shook and Alpha Rheagor's hand left my neck. His nose flared, chest rising and falling at an uneven pace.

"Thank you for letting me buy this time," Ryker muttered wryly.

A loud chuckle rippled from Alpha Rheagor before he took two more steps toward his son, "You're welcome. That shows how one around me can be strongly influenced, including you. From being reluctant to coming with me to buying a slave after, you're no different from me, son." He made sure to drag the last word.

Alpha Ryker didn't speak, but his fist clenched into a tight ball, veins popping out of his skin so that one could see the blood flow through.

"It's delusional for the pup to think it's any different from its father because it hasn't gone for its first hunt. My father used to tell me so before he died," I butt in, my gaze moving between the two Alphas who stared at me; one in anger and the other, in amusement

"Even your slave knows," Alpha Rheagor laughed. "Don't worry, by this time in the future, you won't know why you will keep coming here because this is just the beginning." Alpha Rheagor stormed out of the room, banging the door, the hinges rattled.

Doom and another man stepped into the room, their head low in respect, walking to where I was.

"Hello, princess." Doom flashed me that cocky smile and I knew it wasn't a good one.

Behind him, a syringe - sharp and sleek - peeked out from between his fingers.

"Please." I rolled back quickly, my shoulder slamming onto the sofa where Alpha Ryker was seated. My eyes bore into his brown ones. "Please, I beg you!" Cries burst out from my lips.

"Make it snappy," Alpha Ryker coldly said and my eyes widened in shock, in fear.

Doom held my hands while the other, my neck, and just like lightning, the sharp edge of the needle burrowed into my skin, my body shaking fiercely and eyes fluttering involuntarily until I went limp.

"Take her to the carriage." That was the last word I heard before black dots took over my vision.

˙❥

The half moon hung lowly above, casting a soft glow in the eerie darkness. The tree leaves danced lightly to the cool breeze and maybe, to the sound of the crickets. We were far from the pack - very far, and any more steps, we would leave the pack territory and enter the forbidden area. I was just ten, but I knew, yet I couldn't help but ask again.

"Papa, we would be breaching the Pack's law if we went further, right?" My small voice drooled out, mingling with the darkness.

"You know too much, Val, and it's bad..." My father complained, tightening his grip on my wrist.

"Anymore questions from-"

He hadn't finished speaking when two big black wolves rushed from the shadows. One with grey patches and eyes, the other, black with eyes the same colour as its fur - dark, empty, and devoid of warmth. Their claws were tainted with fresh blood, stares deadly, intense, as they trudged fast toward us.

The grey-patched wolf suddenly yanked my dad from my grip, flinging him to the side before he could shift, while the other sneered loudly before me, his eyes narrow yet dangerous, mysterious, drawing me in like a magnet.

I should have screamed, should have run because that's what we were told to always do as kids born to an omega when we see a predatory wolf, but I didn't. Instead, I stretched forth my arms, ready to pat it on the head until it suddenly opened its mouth, grabbing my cloth so hard-

A loud wail left my lips and fear made my blood freeze...

"Are you okay?" A voice pulled me from the nightmare. I sat up, heaving loudly, my eyes roaming around the unfamiliar space- until it landed on a petite lady in a blue uniform by my side, and my hands grabbed her tightly.

I clung to her gown like it was a safety net from the horrific dream; the dream that had always tormented me after that night. "He... help...me." My voice shook.

The night I became fatherless.

The night I was given the name 'Cursed.'

The night everything started.

"Help me," I muttered again, my voice dry and croaky.

"It's okay," the young lady said, bringing a cup of water to my lips.

Afterwards, my breath steadied and I became aware of where I was. The white ceiling, large bed, fluffy blanket. I wasn't in my pack, the Hallow Wood pack.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I pulled the thick blanket from my waist. A golden gown graced my body. My eyes lifted to meet the lady and my neck burned gravely, reminding me of how I came here.

I glanced around the room again, my breath coming out at a fast pace. The moment in the branding room hit my memory like a wave, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

The room was big, bigger than even Jaydeyn's room at the pack house, yet my breath felt constricted, like a huge block was sitting on my chest, while the lady looked calm, her face unreadable, with her eyes just watching my frantic movement.

"Where am I?" I finally spoke, clutching the edge of my gown. Of course, I know I would probably be in the pack of Alpha Ryker but I wanted my thoughts to be wrong.

"Welcome to Grim Howl pack." A soft, creeping smile grazed the face of the young girl who was probably a maid.

I moved toward the edge of the bed, shaking my head lightly. "No...it can't be," I hollered, laughing hysterically but the maid didn't waver.

"Where's Alpha Ryker?"

"He demands your presence in his room," she said, walking confidently out of the room.

His room?

I dashed out immediately, tailing carefully behind the maid who took a turn to the right before stopping at a gigantic wooden door - brown with stripes of grey.

The door opened to us, like it heard some silent whisper, or magic but as I looked behind, the maid was gone, leaving me to walk into the devil's lair, alone.

The inside was dimly lit with just a streak of light seeping through a window, decorated with grey, ornate curtains.

He has to be team-grey.

I adjusted my sight to get a better view of the room. Grey ceiling, a large alpha-size bed in the middle, a three-legged table, and of course, a grey sofa at the side of the wall that I didn't notice earlier.

My breath halted.

"For someone unconscious, you sure have thick guts to just look around," Alpha Ryker whispered, standing from the sofa with a wine glass in his palm. His daunting, precise muscles spread magnanimously. He didn't make any movement, just smiling with a sharp stare that made my skin burn.

"Come here," he muttered hoarsely, sending a tremor down my spine, before setting the glass on a stool beside him.

"Me?..."

"Who else, or did the silver affect your eyesight?"

I took a step forward, my heart pounding within my ribcage. I took more steps, standing a foot before him, my head bowed lightly.

"Valkyrie, right?" My name drew out of his lips - low, sleek, like a murmured prayer. He closed the tiny space between us, snaking his palm around my throat, raising my head. I winced from the impact of his hold as the pain of my branding throbbed with unbearable heat.

"You're hurting me."

"That's what happens when you don't have a wolf." He simmered, his thumb pressing harder on my wound.

"Please..." I begged.

"Why don't you have a wolf, Val? Why do you have to be so... human?" He asked, his voice low, then his grip loosened, to my surprise. He was acting like he was high on whatever was in the glass he was holding earlier.

Next, he brought his lips to my neck, trailing lightly to my shoulder, and down to my collarbone. For some reason, my skin quivered, shaking with unexplainable need. I lay forward, pressing my bre@st to his chest, as I felt the fast beat of his heart.

His hands didn't hold back either - they moved over my back, waist, and hips. Kneading, touching, as if memorising the sketch of my curves... until he abruptly stopped. I pulled back immediately.

"I... I'm sorry," I blurted, fiddling with the thread of my gown. I watched as he lay back on the sofa, replacing that desire I saw in his eyes with cold stares.

Stretching forth his arm, he collected the wine glass from the stool, brought it to his lips while his gaze still settled on me. I gulped loudly, loosely, and I had to bite my tongue to prevent the heat settling beneath my gown.

It was a painful sight to see as his Adam's apple moved up and down in an intriguing way. My legs clenched tightly.

"Strip." Ryker's voice boomed within the room, slicing through the cold moment like a sharp ice.

"You say-?" I bent lightly, hoping to hear differently.

No, this wasn't happening.

It can't be.

"Would you prefer I repeat my statement or... Do it myself?"