Auctioned to the Rogue Alpha

2 - The King of The Rogues

I felt like I was pulled from a haze I couldn’t shake. My wolf was whimpering in my mind, and it made my head thud. I slowly pulled myself up from my bed. My stomach was twisting, and my limbs ached, but I had to get up.

As the sole heir, I didn’t have time for trivial matters such as all-consuming grief. I was told I would be left alone for an entire day until the daily pack duties started to pile up.

I don’t know how I was supposed to put on a brave front to the pack when I was the one who was not only my Alpha but my father and the only close family I had left.

I trained for this role since birth, but I had always assumed my father would be there to guide me. The ceremony was postponed because of his illness. I wouldn’t do it when he was sick when he wasn’t at his full strength to help guide me.

Even in my most haunting nightmares, I never expected to be thrust into the position before my father even had a proper burial.

I would be Alpha, after all. I could postpone the ceremony for a few days to wrap my mind around it all.

I rang for someone, and moments later, an Omega opened the door to my room with wide eyes.

“I want the Alpha ceremony to be moved after my Father has had his service. It would be improper to celebrate when he is not buried,” I instructed.

The Omega wrang their hands. “Your father has been buried, miss.”

That tugged me back from some of the cloudly grief, if only barely. “What?” I demanded. “When?” I tried to make sense if this was true or not.

“A few days ago.”

“A few days…” I repeated.

How long had I been here? I was told I had a day. Why didn’t anyone tell me, or did they? Then it hit me: I truly had somehow missed my father's burial.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice as hollow as I felt. “Leave.”

I couldn’t find the fuzzy darkness anymore. It was stripped from me, and as much as I wanted to go back to that place, I had a duty to my pack. My pack, those words had a whole new meaning now.

I focused on that and got ready even though no amount of makeup could make my face look any less puffy or my eyes anything but dull and aching.

When I left my room, the place shifted. Our packhouse was old and large, with high ceilings and winding hallways. There was a bustle of activity, even in the living quarters, but everyone stopped when I walked out. I held my head high and tried to smile at the Omegas I passed.

I felt lightheaded; I was unsure when the last time I ate was.

“Where is my uncle?” I asked no one in particular.

“I heard he was in his office, your father's office,” an Omega said and bowed her head.

I turned and headed in the familiar direction of my father’s office, a space I knew better than any other room in the packhouse; I practically grew up there and spent hours a day recently learning from him and attending meetings.

As I neared the door, I couldn’t help but notice another more palpable shift. I never realized how much emotions affected everything around me, but the packhouse felt utterly different now. My father's office didn’t radiate warmth; it felt as hollow as I did.

I knocked sharply before opening the door.

My uncle stood behind the desk with Cletus. His angular features were shocked when they settled on me, and it took a moment for him to compose himself. “Katrina,” he said, motioning to a chair across from him.

I walked to stand behind it; I knew better than to sit while another stood in my own d.amned office.

“Uncle,” I greeted him. “I need to be informed of the past few days. How long have I been…?” I left the question open.

“Almost a week,” he stated.

“And no one thought to tell me about my father's burial?” I quipped, but anger was good. Anger felt better than grief. It was sharp, and it could be wielded where grief was a pool that only clawed at me, attempting to drown me.

“We attempted to wake you.” His eyes were downcast. “There was only so long that we could hold the body.”

I wanted to fight that, but I knew I was just one person. It would be improper to postpone the funeral because I couldn’t pull myself together. I cursed my weakness; that week felt so foreign, so muddled. I wasn’t the only one grieving their Alpha.

But you are the most important one - My wolf, Sage, snapped.

I almost jumped when I heard her. She was quiet, usually silent unless we were in wolf form or something shocking happened.

“Fill me in,” I said, walking around the side of the desk where my uncle stood. Cletus snatched papers up. I held my hand open for them and met his stare.

He glanced at my Uncle and back at me. “Don’t look at him,” I said. “This is my pack now. There are to be no secrets.”

The Ambassador reluctantly handed me back the paper. It was just a list of names, Alpha names in our territory. Under each had their lands was their guessed net worth and other assets. This wasn’t anything unusual, but what was different was the handwritten notes under some of them.

Alliance, 1 million in stocks, marriage to any daughter of choosing, renovation plans + costs covered for packhouse, 50 acres of land + wall built around new territory

“What is this?” I asked them both, unable to look up from the paper, trying to make sense of it.

A sharp knock on the door came, and my uncle called them in. He took the paper from my hand and passed it to Cletus. He seemed out of sorts, more reserved yet aloof, but I had to remember he just lost his only brother, his only sibling.

Another of my father’s ambassadors, my ambassadors I mentally corrected, came in. “The Alphas are arriving. You wanted to be informed.”

“Thank you, leave us,” my Uncle said. The Alphas? I looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “The Alpha ceremony is taking place tonight.” He went about seeming to look for something

I snorted. “Good thing I woke up then, or else I wouldn’t have time to get ready.” I crossed my arms and stood there, f.orcing him to meet my gaze.

“Yes, well, this was planned before you… you hit that period of grief,” he explained, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it. “Go get yourself ready. I will deal with the rest.” He put on a smile.

“There’s something else,” the ambassador said, looking at his feet.

I was about to speak, but my uncle did first, “Get on with it.” His tone was icy.

“Alpha Zavier is here as well.”

“What?” my uncle's growl tore through the room.

Alpha Zavier of The Shadow Pack. His pack was new, and even though he resided in our territory, many of the Alphas refused to acknowledge him because he wasn’t from an old line.

He created a pack, large in number, and held apparent assets, and even though he had a legal claim to his vast lands, he didn’t have an old bloodline.

My father was one of the only ones, sometimes the only one, who tried to keep peace with Alpha Zavier, claiming that blood wasn’t the only thing that made a good Alpha and that we should give him a chance. I learned from him to back up what you knew to be right was right and not what was popular.

Cletus looked appalled, glancing at my uncle like a fish out of water. “The King of Rogues,” Cletus whispered; I almost snorted at the title. “It will ruin tonight. He isn’t here to play nice. And what will the other guests think? Our reputation.” His voice was rising; it reminded me of a mouse.

“Who let him in?” my uncle demanded.

“He said Alpha Richard invited him before he passed; Goddess rest his soul.”

“Well, I say he leaves,” my uncle growled.

“He stays,” I commanded, making eye contact with the ambassador, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable by the door. “You may leave.” I would continue my father's initiatives and not start my rule on bias.