After My Alpha Sold Me to Another Pack

Greyson's laugh cut through the tension like a blade. Sharp. Mocking.

"You want her?" He stepped closer, his boots crunching on gravel. "You want this broken thing? This mad rogue who can't even shift?"

The black wolf—Reynolds, Greyson had called him—didn't flinch. His body stayed between us, a wall of muscle and barely contained fury.

"She's yours," Greyson said, his voice dripping contempt. "Take her. I'm done wasting resources on damaged goods."

Something in my chest cracked. Damaged goods. That's all I was to him now.

Reynolds shifted back to human form. His voice was low, dangerous. "Name your price."

Greyson's smile widened. He'd been waiting for this. "The eastern border. Five miles of Silver Lake territory. Sign it over, and she's yours."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd of Alphas outside. Five miles was a fortune. Hunting grounds. Water rights. Power.

Reynolds didn't hesitate. "Done."

The word hit me like a slap. He was buying me. Trading land for a broken omega he didn't even know. Why?

Greyson's expression flickered—surprise, then something uglier. He'd expected negotiation. Expected Reynolds to walk away. Instead, he'd lost territory and looked weak doing it.

"Beta Kane will draw up the papers," Greyson said, his jaw tight. "Take her and go."

Reynolds moved. He crouched beside the ruined cage, his hands reaching for me. I flinched hard, my body slamming back against the bars. Every instinct screamed danger. Men who touched me brought pain.

He froze. His hands hovered in the air, not touching, not forcing.

"I won't hurt you," he said. His voice was soft. Careful. Like I was something precious instead of broken. "I'm going to carry you out of here. Is that okay?"

No one had asked my permission for anything in five years.

I managed a tiny nod.

His arms slid under me, gentle as a whisper. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, cradling me against his chest. The vanilla scent wrapped around me, warm and safe. My body went rigid, waiting for the pain that always came.

It didn't come.

He carried me through the crowd. Alphas stepped back, their faces a mix of curiosity and disgust. I kept my eyes down, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. He was warm. Solid. Real.

When we reached his caravan, he set me down on soft cushions inside. Not a cage. A bed. Blankets that smelled like pine and winter air.

"Rest," he said. "We'll be home soon."

Home. The word felt foreign.

The journey blurred. I drifted in and out of consciousness, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. When I woke, we were moving through gates. Silver Lake Pack territory.

The pack house was nothing like Blood River. It was smaller, warmer. Lights glowed in windows. Wolves moved through the grounds without fear, without the rigid hierarchy that had ruled my old life.

Reynolds carried me inside and up a staircase. He pushed open a door to a room that stole my breath. Soft carpet. A massive bed with clean white sheets. Windows overlooking a forest that stretched forever.

"This is yours," he said, setting me down on the bed. "No one will come in without your permission. Not even me."

I stared at him. At this stranger who'd traded land for a broken omega. Who spoke to me like I mattered.

"Why?" The word scraped out of my throat.

His eyes met mine. Gold and warm and impossibly gentle. "Because you're my mate. My true mate. And I've been searching for you for a very long time."

The world tilted.

He moved toward me with a cloth and water basin. "Let me clean your wounds."

His hand reached for my arm. I jerked back so hard I nearly fell off the bed. My heart hammered. My breath came in short gasps.

He pulled back immediately. No anger. No frustration. Just patience.

"Okay," he said softly. "Okay. I won't touch you."

He set the basin on the nightstand and backed toward the door. Then he grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the closet.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Sleeping here." He gestured to the floor by the door. "So you know you're safe. So you know I'm not going anywhere."

He settled onto the floor, his back against the wall. A powerful Alpha, sleeping on hardwood to make a broken omega feel safe.

Over the next two days, he proved it wasn't an act. He brought me food and set it on the nightstand, never forcing me to eat. When I finally reached for the bread with shaking hands, he smiled like I'd given him the world.

He spoke to me in low, soothing tones. Told me about his pack. About the forest. About nothing and everything. Never demanding answers. Never pushing.

On the third morning, there was a commotion downstairs. Shouting. The sound of someone being dragged.

Reynolds stood, his body going tense. "Stay here."

He left. I heard his voice, sharp with command. Then another voice. One I recognized.

Dr. Thorne.

My blood went cold. I crept to the door, pressing my ear against it.

"I didn't have a choice!" Thorne's voice was high with panic. "She threatened my family!"

"Tell me everything." Reynolds' voice was ice. "Now."

"The pregnancy—it's fake. Scent charms and herbs. I've been lying in every report. And the wolfsbane injections—Camille ordered them. To keep the omega weak. To keep her wolf dormant."

Silence. Heavy and terrible.

"What else?" Reynolds growled.

"Files," Thorne gasped. "Old files about the Moonshadow Luna's death. Greyson tried to burn them, but I saw—it wasn't rogues. It was his father. He orchestrated the whole attack."

The floor disappeared beneath me.

My mother. Greyson's father had killed my mother.

And Greyson knew.