Chapter 1

Alina:

The first thing I tasted was blood.

It coated my tongue as my knees hit the marble, but I refused to cry out. The man behind me shoved hard enough that my palms scraped the cold stone.

“Get up,” my father hissed.

I lifted my head slowly, Ivan Morozov, my father, stood beside me in his expensive coat, sweating like a man who had already sold his soul and was only now afraid of the price. But he didn’t look at me. Men like my father were brave only when they were hurting someone weaker.

The men in the room looked at me, prying whatever they could as my father stood at my side. Their scents filled my nostrils, and as much as I loathed it, the smell of danger made my wolf tremble.

At the far end of the room three men sat behind a long table. One leaned back, eyes sliding over me.

“She is prettier than I expected,” he said. “When I heard that she was your daughter, I didn’t have any expectations.”

My father rushed forward and bowed his head. “She is untouched. Young. Healthy. She can cook, clean, serve. She will not be trouble, and she is here to satisfy.”

The man at the table tapped his ring against a glass of whiskey. “You owe the Volkov Bratva three million dollars, Ivan. Not a maid.”

“I know,” my father said quickly. “But I need more time. Take her as a sign of good faith. A sign that you are going to get your payment.”

I looked at my father, waiting for shame. For guilt. For anything that proved he remembered I was his blood. Anything that would remind him that I was his daughter, the same daughter that he had cradled. But he kept his eyes on the Bratva men.

The doors opened behind me, and every sound in the room died as the man stepped closer. And my wolf, weak and restless, had never fully risen, but in that moment she lifted her head.

Alpha.

The men rose. Even my father stopped breathing.

I did not turn until he passed me, and when my eyes caught sight of him as he looked sideways at me, I knew exactly why they froze.

It was Dimitri Volkov. Alpha of the Black Fang Pack. Pakhan of the Volkov Bratva. The monster whispered about by wolves and humans alike.

He stopped in front of the table. “Why is there a girl on my floor?”

One of the men cleared his throat. “Ivan Morozov brought her as partial payment.”

Dimitri turned to face me, raising an eyebrow as he noticed my eyes on his.

His eyes were gray, his hair was black, his jaw sharp, his face brutally handsome in a way that felt almost cruel. A scar cut through his left eyebrow, making him look more dangerous.

His gaze moved over my bruised wrists, my split lip, my torn dress. And that was when my wolf surged so violently I almost gasped.

Mate.

Dimitri’s eyes said that he felt it too, and I forced myself, despite the pain and surprise, to look away.

“No,” he said, his eyes darkening with anger.

“Alpha Volkov, please. I meant no disrespect. She is all I have to offer.” My father said, choosing to break the moment. “I am begging you.”

You mean, I was the only thing you were willing to lose.

Dimitri did not look away from me. “You bring me debt and insult me by offering flesh?”

My father shook. “Please. Take her. She is obedient when handled correctly. She is going to serve you as you wish.”

“I am standing right here.” I snapped, ignoring the pain in my hands and knees as I rose to my feet. “The least you could do is be subtle about this.”

“Shut your mouth, Alina.” He said, snapping at me.

I smiled through the blood on my lip. “You should have gagged me if you wanted silence.”

One of the men laughed, my father froze, but my eyes landed on the man whose eyes were fixed on me, waiting to flinch. Because Omegas didn’t challenge Alphas, but I couldn’t care less.

Dimitri turned back to my father, breaking our gaze. “Take Ivan downstairs.”

My father’s eyes widened. “No. Please. Alpha Volkov, we had a deal… I am begging you to please consider.”

“We had debt,” Dimitri said. “Not a deal, and given that you didn’t pay your part, I am going to have to handle this my way.”

Two men grabbed my father by the arms, and I watched as he struggled. “Take her. She is yours. Do whatever you want with her. Just give me more time. I am begging you to give me more time.” My father kept shouting as they dragged him away. “Alina, tell him you agree. Tell him you will serve him! Tell him to spare me!”

I said nothing as I watched him be dragged outside before the door was closed.

“Anya. Take her upstairs and get her food and water.” He said, turning to an older woman, I assumed a maid, who nodded.

“Yes, Pakhan,” she said.

“You will stay here until your father’s debt is settled.” He said, turning his attention to me.

“Do not pretend I am a guest.” I said calmly. “I am well aware what this whole thing is about.”

His jaw tightened and I could tell that he was angry. And though I expected an argument, he simply turned to his men as Anya put her hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the door.

She led me upstairs to a room larger than the servant quarters I had slept in back home. “The bathroom is there, and I will get you some new clothes to get out of this dress shortly.”

She walked out without waiting for me to respond, and I stood where she left me as I assessed the room that I was in.

And that was when I noticed the lamp on the bedside table. I picked it up with both hands, weighing the grip before the door was knocked, taking me off guard.

I frowned in confusion and turned just as it opened, watching as the Volkov Alpha chose to walk inside alone.

He had removed his jacket. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, showing scars along his skin. He closed the door behind him, and the room suddenly felt too small.

I raised the lamp. “Take one more step,” I warned, my voice shaking with fury, “and I swear I’ll break this over your head.”

He stopped. His eyes dropped to the lamp, then returned to my face.

“You think that will save you from me?” He asked, raising an amused eyebrow as the corner of his mouth turned.

“No,” I said. “But it will make sure you remember I didn’t flinch at the sight of you…”