Chapter One
Sold to the Alpha
The night Silverwood's sky bled purple, I knew my life was about to end.
The village lay shrouded in mist, the smell of damp earth and old magic heavy in the air. Above, the rare celestial alignment—the one Grandmother always spoke of in fearful whispers—painted the heavens in a dance of unnatural colors. Stars shifted, moons collided. Prophecies stirred from their slumber.
And me?
I was being led like cattle to the slaughter.
"Keep your head down," my stepfather hissed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my arm as he yanked me forward. I stumbled, catching myself on the rough cobblestone path, the coarse hem of my plain dress dragging through the dirt.
I dared a glance at him. His face, etched deep with anger and drink, twisted in disgust when he looked at me—as if I were nothing more than a blemish on his perfect life. I suppose, to him, I was.
I was the cursed child. The bringer of death.
The one responsible for my mother's last breath.
"Don't ruin this," he snarled under his breath. "You'll fetch us enough silver to save your precious sister. Isn't that what you want, Lola?"
My chest tightened painfully. My sister, Ivy—the only bright spot in my otherwise grim existence—lay sick in our crumbling home. Fevered. Dying. No healer would touch her; the curse that gripped Silverwood made even the bravest men fearful.
This was the price demanded of me.
My body. My soul.
Sold to the Alpha King himself—Liam of Silverwood.
A monster cloaked in human flesh.
They said he destroyed everything he touched.
They said he devoured virgins whole.
They said his mistresses vanished, their screams swallowed by the woods.
And now, I would belong to him.
The gates of the palace loomed ahead, black iron twisted into terrible shapes—wolves with their mouths agape, eyes like hollowed moons. Beyond them, the castle rose like a tombstone against the night, its towers slicing into the swirling mist like jagged knives.
The guards at the gate—massive men clad in leather and furs—watched silently as we approached. Their expressions betrayed nothing. Neither pity nor curiosity. Just indifference, as though seeing broken things delivered to the Alpha was a daily chore.
Stepfather thrust me forward roughly.
"She's clean," he said gruffly. "As agreed."
One guard stepped forward, his hand curling around my chin. I flinched as he forced my face upward, turning it side to side as if inspecting a prize he had no desire for.
"She'll do," he muttered, dropping my face as if even touching me sickened him.
The gates groaned open.
Cold wind rushed out to meet me.
And with it…something else.
A pull.
A whisper in my blood.
A sensation both thrilling and terrifying.
I stumbled forward, my stepfather's final words ringing in my ears:
"Survive long enough to save Ivy. Or die. It makes no difference to me."
He left without a backward glance.
And I was alone.
⸻
The palace swallowed me whole.
Long, endless corridors. Stone walls draped with ancient banners. The scent of burning wood and something metallic—like blood—clinging to the air.
A woman with steel-gray hair and piercing black eyes led me down the halls, saying nothing. She wore the robes of a Palace Keeper—those who tended to the Alpha's affairs and disposed of his messes.
My heart hammered against my ribs, each step tightening the knot of fear in my stomach. My palms were slick with sweat.
We stopped before two enormous double doors, carved with the image of a howling wolf beneath a dying moon.
She turned to me.
"Strip," she said coldly.
I froze.
"I said, strip. You will not enter the presence of the Alpha King clothed in filth."
Heat flamed my cheeks. Shame burned through me as I fumbled with the laces of my dress. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. I peeled the garment away, shivering as the cold kissed my bare skin.
The woman tossed me a thin, sheer slip—barely a whisper of fabric—and nodded toward the door.
"Enter."
My knees nearly buckled, but somehow, I moved.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The chamber was vast, lit only by the flickering flames of a grand hearth. Shadows danced across walls lined with ancient weaponry and furs. And there, seated in a massive chair carved of bone and black wood, was him.
Alpha King Liam.
My breath hitched painfully in my throat.
He was more beautiful—and more terrible—than I could have ever imagined.
Long golden hair spilled over his broad shoulders, catching the firelight. His deep blue eyes burned with something wild and ancient. His lips—full, sinful—curved into something between a smirk and a snarl as he watched me.
A predator regarding prey.
"Kneel," he commanded, his voice a rich, dark purr that wrapped around me like a noose. "Kneel before me, rabbit."
Rabbit.
A trembling, helpless creature.
I sank to my knees, heart pounding so violently I feared he could hear it.
The silence stretched between us, taut and unbearable.
"You fear me," he mused, rising from his throne with the grace of a hunting cat. His boots thudded against the stone floor as he closed the distance between us.
I dared not look up.
His fingers brushed against my chin, tipping my face upward. His touch was surprisingly gentle. His scent—earthy, masculine, and dangerously intoxicating—filled my senses.
"And yet," he murmured, tilting his head slightly, "you do not reek of deceit. Nor ambition. Curious."
His thumb grazed my lower lip. My breath caught. My body betrayed me, leaning ever so slightly into his touch.
"You will serve me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Body and soul."
A lump formed in my throat.
I nodded, because what else could I do?
He smiled then—not kindly, but with something fierce and possessive glinting in his eyes.
"Good."
The Alpha turned away, his broad shoulders flexing beneath a dark, velvet tunic.
"Come," he ordered. "The night is young. And I intend to see if your spirit is as pure as your scent suggests."
Terror and something far more dangerous twisted inside me.
Desire.
I rose on trembling legs and followed him deeper into the shadows of the palace, my heart a wild drum in my chest.
Little did I know, this was only the beginning.
Of my ruin.
Of my destiny.
Of a love so savage it could break the very curse that bound our souls.