My Best Friend Sold Me to the Rogue King

The heat from the locket against my skin intensified until it burned like molten metal. I gasped, tearing it from my neck and watching in astonishment as it glowed with an otherworldly light.

"What is happening?" I whispered, my voice shaking.

And then, a voice filled my mind—deep, powerful, and commanding.

"Nola? My daughter?"

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Who's there?"

"It's Father," the voice boomed, making me wince. "Noah Simpson."

Noah Simpson. The name hit me like a physical blow. Everyone in the werewolf world knew that name—the Alpha King who ruled the most powerful pack alliance in the Pacific Northwest.

"No," I breathed. "That's not possible. I'm an orphan."

A bitter laugh echoed through my mind. "Is that what they told you? That you were abandoned?"

Something cold and terrible settled in my stomach. "You're... my father?"

"I am," he confirmed, his mental voice vibrating with barely contained rage. "And I can feel your pain, daughter. I can sense the broken bond."

I pressed my hand to my chest, where the rejection still burned like acid. "How?"

"I've been watching over you," he explained, his voice softening slightly. "Waiting for the right moment to reveal your true heritage."

"My true..." I trailed off as understanding dawned. "I'm not an Omega, am I?"

"No," he growled. "You are a Lycan Princess."

The words echoed in my mind as golden light pulsed behind my eyes. My wolf stirred within me, no longer dormant.

"They rejected you," Noah continued, his fury building. "They dared to reject my daughter?"

"I want to leave," I whispered, suddenly desperate to escape. "Please, help me get out of here."

"Leave?" Noah's mental voice turned icy. "I will burn the Silvermoon Pack to the ground for what they've done to you."

"No!" I cried, though part of me thrilled at the idea of revenge. "I just want to go. I'm not strong enough..."

My voice broke as another wave of pain washed over me. The rejection was still tearing me apart from within.

"Then call for me," he commanded. "When you're ready to escape."

---

I stuffed clothes into a worn backpack, my hands trembling with excitement and fear. The truth of my identity still reverberated through me—I wasn't a worthless Omega but a Lycan Princess, daughter of the most powerful Alpha King in the region.

"I can do this," I whispered to myself. "I can get out."

The pack house was quiet as I slipped down the back stairs, avoiding the main hall where Cason and Kiana would be celebrating their engagement. My wolf stirred restlessly within me, lending me strength I'd never known before.

I'd made it to the edge of the property when a familiar scent hit me—copper and malice.

"Going somewhere?" Kiana's voice sliced through the darkness.

I spun around to find her flanked by three pack warriors, their expressions grim.

"I'm leaving," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You got what you wanted."

Kiana's smile was venomous. "Actually, I don't think I do. Not yet."

She nodded to the warriors. "Take her."

Two of them lunged forward, grabbing my arms. I struggled, summoning the Alpha command I'd inherited from my father.

"Let me go!" I shouted, infusing my voice with power.

The warriors faltered, their eyes widening in surprise, but Kiana laughed.

"You're too inexperienced," she sneered. "You don't know how to use your new powers."

One of the warriors pulled out a syringe filled with pale green liquid. "Wolfsbane," he muttered. "Enough to keep her quiet."

I fought wildly as they pinned me down, but it was too late. The needle plunged into my arm, and cold fire spread through my veins.

---

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When consciousness returned, it came in fragments—the rumble of an engine, the smell of gasoline, the feel of metal pressed against my cheek.

I was in the trunk of a moving car.

"She's still breathing," a male voice said from somewhere outside. "You sure this is worth our trouble?"

"Viktor Blackwood doesn't ask questions," Kiana's voice replied. "He pays cash for merchandise like this."

My blood ran cold as I heard the name of the notorious Rogue King.

"And you're sure she won't come back to haunt us?" the man asked.

Kiana laughed, the sound chilling me to the bone. "Once she's sold at the auction, she'll belong to whichever rogue pays the highest price. She'll be too busy being someone's breeding stock to ever find her way back."

The car hit a bump, sending pain shooting through my battered body.

"Don't damage the goods," Kiana snapped. "Viktor wants her intact."

"Relax," the driver replied. "This one's already broken. Her mate rejected her."

Their voices faded as drugs pulled me back under, but one thought burned in my mind: I was being sold to a rogue auction, and no one knew where to find me—except my father.

If I survived long enough to call for him.