Chapter 1 The trade

I never imagined my name to be called.

Not like that.

Not with the seriousness of a bargain that had outlined my existence before I'd taken a breath.

The village square was too quiet, not the sort of quiet one usually got when the traders were about to arrive; the anxious, fidgety sort with whispers behind elbows. No, this was different, this was the kind that felt suffocating, like the very air sensed something was on the verge of breaking.

I stood beside my father, his palm on the top of my shoulder, anchoring me in place. My heart pounded against my chest, but I tilted my chin up. If I flinched, they'd already won before the game even started.

The voice of the lead trader interrupted the silence. "Anika Valen."

My blood turned icy cold. Those words weren't my name; they were a death sentence.

I turned around, waiting for my father to protest, to make them understand that they’d made a mistake. He didn't. His arm tightened around my shoulder, grounding me in betrayal.

The crowd murmured, women tugged at their skirts, men looked away, as if my shame was infectious. I curled up my fists, nails biting into my palm.

"You can't take me," I snarled, my voice more sharp than I felt. "You have no right."

The trader grinned. He was huge and battered, a man who existed through domination over others. "We have a signed and sealed document. You now belong to Alpha Garrick of the Ridge."

The name hit me like a slap. Garrick.

Heat blazed in my veins, burning and unwelcome. I hated that even the memory of him was still able to sear after all these years.

I forced my voice to be steady. "You mean Garrick Draal."

The trader's grin broadened. "Aye. The ruthless Alpha himself. And he asked for you by name."

A shiver went down my spine, and I hated that it wasn’t just fear. I remembered the taste of his lips on mine, the burning blaze of his eyes, the way he had once made me feel like I was the only one in a world meant to devour girls like me. That recollection was poison now, but the poison still burned.

My father finally spoke, low and authoritative. "Go, Anika. Don't make this complicated."

I turned on him. "You sold me."

His teeth were clenched, but he said nothing. His silence was more painful than a confession.

The trader grasped my arm before I could strike him. "Time to leave."

I struggled to break free, but his hold was unbreakable. Gasps rippled through the crowd, but none moved any closer. Of course not, no one crossed Garrick. Not anymore.

They dragged me to the wagon, I kicked my heels into the ground, my body shuddering involuntarily, but they were too strong. My skirts ripped at the hem as I kicked at them. One of them swore, the other laughed.

"Fierce little thing," the scarred one said. "No wonder he wants her."

They pushed me onto the wooden bench inside the caged wagon. The iron door slammed shut, the lock ringing like the final nail in my coffin.

The wheels creaked into motion, the village dropped away, shrinking into shadows. My father's presence stood at the corner of the square until I could not see him. He did not move.

I leaned against the bars, gasping. "He doesn't own me," I spat at the traders.

They all laughed together, like hyenas.

"Sweetheart," said one of the traders, "the moment you cross his threshold, he will own every inch of you."

My stomach twisted, heat spreading low in my belly against my will.

Own me.

I hated how those three words wrapped themselves around me, forcing me to see Garrick's face in my mind's eye; hard jaw, cold gaze, lips that I had once tasted. The boy who had kissed me under the old oak was now the Alpha who filled packs with fear.

“Don't think of him like that," I cursed under my breath, clenching my thighs together as if I could bar the memory from penetrating further.

The wagon jolted over bad roads as the hours crept by, interrupted by the groan of wheels and the harsh ululations of night birds. The wind picked up, cooled and sharpened, as the road turned north into pine-scented, rich-smelling woodlands.

I tried to focus on the trees instead of the taunts still circling my head.

“You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you?” the scarred trader asked after a while. “They call him the Cruel Alpha for a reason.”

I didn’t answer.

“He doesn’t take kindly to disobedience.” His grin showed missing teeth. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”

I kept looking at the trees, but my body betrayed me again. My heart raced, not solely with fear. Disobedience. Punishment. His hands forcing me to obey. The thought shouldn't have caused my skin to flush with warmth, but it did.

"Be quiet," I snarled, the words cracking harsher than intended.

The trader chuckled. "You'll be fun."

The wagon lurched, and I held on to the bars. The woods became ponderous, branches scratching at the blackness above. My breath steamed white, the cold seeping through my cloak.

A wolf gave a low, slow howl out of darkness. Not a wolf of these woods, a wolf of his.

The traders stiffened but did not stop. "Almost there," one of them grunted.

The wagon climbed, higher and higher, the road dwindling to mountain paths. The horses puffed out puffs of steam, hooves ringing on stone. Torches blazed ahead, dim lights in the darkness.

I leaned back against the bars as my chest squeezed. My body was betraying me, trembling not from cold but from expectation. Garrick was waiting ahead.

All of the recollections of his lips, his hands, the heat of his chest against mine all those years ago came back in broken fragments sharp enough to cut. He had been wild even then, unmoored. And now, he was Alpha. Cruel, powerful, ruthless.

The wagon crested the ridge. The lodge bulked above us, cut into the side of the mountains, enormous and monolithic with spires of rock. Torches encircled the gates, fire licking the wind.

Another howl ripped the night. Louder and closer.

The traders didn't even flinch this time. They just sneered.

One of them smiled at me with glinting eyes.

"Welcome home, sweetheart."

My heart froze, warmth and fear warring in my chest as the gates of Garrick's world creaked open.