Maya's POV:
I sit on the cold concrete floor, the rough fabric of the blindfold biting into my skin while the rope around my wrists digs painfully into my flesh. Every small sound feels louder in the darkness. The soft rustle of movement startles me. I hear quiet whispers and another girl crying.
Fear has a sound. And right now, it sounds exactly like this room.
The smell is worse. Damp stone mixed with sweat and fear. And underneath it all, there is something metallic.
Blood.
My body shivers as the scene from earlier flashes through my head. I am back in my bedroom again.
The door had slammed open so hard it hit the wall. I remember how my heart jumped into my throat. My foster parents came running in. My mother's robe hung loose around her, her hair messy like she had just woken up. My father looked the same, his pajama pants and wrinkled shirt, with shock written all over his face.
For one stupid second, I thought they came to save me. That hope died the moment the men grabbed me. Rough hands pulled me from my bed, my thin nightgown offering no protection as panic exploded inside my chest.
"Mom! Dad! Please!"
I screamed until my throat burned. I fought. I kicked. I begged.
But they just stood there.
Frozen. Silent. Watching.
I hit the floor hard, the carpet burning against my back as they dragged me. Tears blurred my vision as I begged, "Please, what is happening? Why are you doing this?"
My father knelt next to me. His eyes looked sad. Almost guilty.
"Maya…" his voice shook. "It's not what I want. But now that you're eighteen, the government won't pay us anymore. We… we need the money."
Money.
That word destroyed something inside me.
"This… this is how we have to do it."
My mother looked like she wanted to protest. Her lips trembled. But then one of the men threw a duffel bag at her feet.
The sound of money hitting the floor was louder than anything else in that room.
"No heroics," one of the men warned.
And just like that, my mother relented. That was the moment I knew that I wasn't their daughter. I was their paycheck.
They dragged me outside. The cold air hit my skin as they shoved me into a vehicle. One of the men got too close, his breath hot against my neck as he tried to press himself against me.
I froze. I couldn't even fight. Terror locked my body completely.
Then a woman's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
"Back off."
Sharp. Commanding. Dangerous.
"She's worth more untouched. Don't damage the merchandise."
Merchandise.
That word followed me like a curse.
The man backed off, annoyed but obedient. I stayed frozen anyway. Because that was when I understood something even worse.
Even my kidnappers didn't see me as human.
Just something to sell.
Now I sit in the darkness again, hugging my knees, trying to make myself small enough to disappear. The blindfold heightens all my senses. Every sniffle, every chain movement, every tiny sound of fear around me, I hear it all. I can almost feel it in my soul.
A girl nearby whimpers softly.
She sounds young, maybe my age, maybe younger. I reach out with my trembling fingers. My bound wrists meet each other, and I find her shaking hand. I hold it tightly as she begins to sob uncontrollably. I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb, offering the smallest bit of comfort. That is all I have to give.
I press my forehead into my knees and focus on breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
But the flashbacks will not leave me alone.
I still see my father explaining my price. I can still hear the money hitting the floor. I still feel the rough, violent hands dragging me away from everything I worked for.
My dance career. My scholarship. My future.
Years of training. Every blister, every performance, every dream of standing on a stage under bright lights while people applauded, now shattered.
Gone. Replaced with rope, fear, and betrayal.
My chest hurts, but I refuse to cry again. No one was coming anyway. My fingers flex slowly against the ropes. I test, I learn.
There may be a weakness, and there may still be a chance.
I wouldn't break. Not completely.
I close my eyes beneath the blindfold and listen carefully.
Wait. Watch. Learn.
If I survive this, it will be because I refuse to become prey.
Ulric's POV:
I am standing at the edge of the forest, staring into the darkness while the moon hangs high above me. Normally, it's light grounds me. Tonight, it only reminds me of the weight pressing down on my shoulders.
My father's voice still echoes in my mind.
"Find a Luna. Give her an heir. Or you will not inherit the Alpha title."
He did not offer advice or guidance. He commanded.
My fists tighten at my sides.
I had spent my entire life preparing to lead the Bloodmoon Pack. I had fought for it. Bled for it. Proven myself stronger, smarter, and more controlled than my brothers, the other heirs in line for the title.
And yet none of that matters. All that matters now is producing an heir. I am nothing more than breeding stock myself.
A bitter laugh escapes my mouth. My father spoke about legacy as if it were power, control, and dominance.
He never understood what Alpha actually meant. It wasn't about fear. It was about responsibility and protecting the weak. We had to learn to control the beast inside ourselves before trying to control others.
My jaw tightens as I remember the other part of his demand.
His solution.
His contact.
The woman who buys girls like property.
Disgust twists in my stomach. I could never take a Luna like that. I would never claim a broken woman forced into submission. If I took a Luna, it would be because she was strong enough to stand beside me, not because she had no choice.
My wolf, Fenrir, stirs beneath my skin, restless but not disagreeing. That at least gives me some peace. Fenrir always knows how to bring me comfort when I am distraught. I am an Alpha by blood. I like it when people agree with me.
"I will choose my own path," I mutter into the night. Even if it means defying him. Even if it means delaying my inheritance. Even if it means war inside my own pack.
I exhale slowly and look up at the moon again.
Somewhere out there is a woman strong enough to stand beside an Alpha.
Not behind him. Not beneath him.
Beside him.
I just don't know where she is yet. And I refuse to find her through chains and fear.