Sold to the alpha king
Chapter One: Sold to the Alpha King
“Burn her alive!”
“She’s a walking disaster!”
“Burn her—before the Moon Goddess strikes us all dead!”
Their voices echoed through the village square as I was dragged forward—escorted by my own kin—to the wooden stake where they planned to set me ablaze. I stared coldly at the crowd, unflinching as the ropes tightened around my body. Even as the stake was hoisted upright, ready for the flames, I showed no expression. I could only whisper a silent prayer—for the pain to be brief before death claimed me.
What would you do if your life had been cursed from the very moment you drew breath? How would it feel to be an outcast among your own people?
To them, I’m nothing more than a walking curse—an object of ridicule, an omen of misfortune. They call me all sorts of names because of one thing: my impure bloodline.
I’m the product of a forbidden union between a werewolf and a vampire. My mother paid the price with her life. The cruel people of the Blur Moon Tribe deemed their love a taboo, her very existence a thorn in their side.
I watched them hang her on a cross and stab her with a wooden stake. Flames consumed her while tears poured from my eyes. That was ten years ago.
Now, they plan to do the same to me.
“Tie her to the cross! Burn her alive!”
“She’s a walking disaster to the werewolf clan!” voices shrieked from the crowd as I was dragged to the village square.
“Burn her, before she infects us with her cursed fate!”
Two werewolf warriors pinned down my father, forcing him to watch. His eyes burned with helpless rage.
“Wait!” he suddenly shouted, struggling to stand. “Let me speak!”
“What’s there to say? We know what you’re going to say! Burn her!” someone shouted back, riling up the crowd.
“He’s a fool who fell for a vampire spy!”
“Your foolish love brought calamity upon us! We trusted you and trained this abomination—now look at what’s happened to the moon shrine!”
“If you say one more word, we’ll burn you with her!”
“Please!” my father pleaded. “Even if you kill me afterward, let me speak!”
They hesitated. He stood tall, bruised but defiant.
“Yes, Becky failed the coming-of-age ceremony and was struck by lightning. But have you ever stopped to wonder—why is she still alive?”
The crowd fell into uneasy silence.
“Maybe the moon goddess struck only the shrine, and Becky’s survival was intentional! If the goddess truly wanted her dead, wouldn’t she be ash already? Killing her now would mean questioning the goddess’s will!”
He grabbed the torch from a woman nearby and raised it high.
“If you still want her dead after hearing this, take this torch from me—and accept the wrath of the moon goddess, should it fall upon us.”
No one moved. No one dared.
“Even if we don’t kill her,” someone muttered at last, “we can’t keep her here. She must go.”
“She must go!”
“She must go!”
“Quiet!” a deep voice boomed across the square.
“The village chief…” someone whispered.
“There is wisdom in what Frank just said,” the chief announced. “But I won’t risk letting a time bomb live among us. In three days, a slave caravan will pass through. We’ll sell her to the traders and use the silver to rebuild the shrine. We rid ourselves of misfortune… and profit in the process.”
Cheers erupted. And just like that, my fate was sealed.
From the cross, I watched as my life was bargained away. My father’s tears were the last thing I saw before I was taken down and locked inside a carriage.
---
Long story short, I was sold for twenty pieces of silver.
The slave traders tossed me into a carriage filled with girls—some caught on the road, others sold by their own people. I huddled in silence, wary and broken.
Beside me sat a vampire girl who gave me a strange look. My heart thumped in fear until I noticed the glowing cuffs on her wrists—magic suppressors. She couldn't use her powers.
“Little girl, where are you from?” she finally asked.
I ignored her.
Little girl? I cursed her in my mind. Your mother’s the little girl! Your grandmother’s the little girl! Call me big sister, brat!
“You look like one of us, but you smell like a dog. Interesting mix,” she whispered. “What race are you?”
“I’m werewolf,” I snapped, my voice colder than ice.
“Then why do you look so pale and weak? People might mistake you for a sickly vampire,” she pressed.
“It’s a long story,” I said, voice still frosty.
“I’ve got time,” she shrugged, eyeing my bruises and torn dress.
“I mind.”
The ten other girls in the carriage, who had perked up their ears, sighed in disappointment.
“You don’t have to be so cold. I won’t eat you—at least not with these cuffs on,” she chuckled. “I’m Ava. What’s your name?”
“Becky.”
Even then, I didn’t lower my guard. Vampires can’t be trusted. They’ll trade your secrets for blood.
---
After a long, dusty journey, we reached Kibran City.
We were taken to a large estate where other slaves were kept. For a week, they treated our injuries and fed us well. It almost felt like we weren’t slaves at all.
For a moment, I felt free.
But the other girls didn’t share my relief. They were nervous… haunted. When I asked why, they wouldn’t answer.
On the eighth day, everything changed.
They bathed us, dressed us in tight, revealing clothes that clung to our skin. The fabric was stylish, seductive—like we were being dressed for something far beyond our understanding.
And just like that, the illusion of safety shattered.
