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Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha
Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha
Author: Manie D

CHAPTER ONE

Author: Manie D
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-14 21:38:42

“Thorne will make a good husband, don’t you think, princess?” my father asked from the opposite seat of the carriage.

His voice was soft, almost affectionate, as if we were discussing a birthday gift and not my life sentence.

I stared at him through the dim lantern light. The white wedding gown felt like wet cement on my skin. “Daddy… I’ve begged you for weeks. I don’t want to marry him, please. He’s a monster.”

Why won’t he listen? He’s my father—supposed to protect me, not trade me like a pawn. The thought twisted in my gut, sharp as a blade.

He chuckled, low and bitter. “You exaggerate things, Jessica. Even if he’s a monster, he’s paying our debts. He agreed to put a roof over our heads and keep the packs from tearing each other apart.”

My hands twisted in the silk. “That’s because you’re selfish, Dad. You don’t want to admit that you sold me. Your only daughter, because you gambled away all our riches.”

I immediately noticed the atmosphere tightening. His facial expression darkened.

Before I could register what he was trying to do, I felt his hand flash across the narrow space between us, locking his left hand tightly on my throat.

He yanked me forward until my back slammed against the carriage door. Pain exploded across my shoulders. His fingers squeezed—hard.

I couldn’t breathe.

Not again. Please, Goddess, not like this. Black spots bloomed in my vision, my lungs screaming for air.

“Listen to me,” he hissed, eyes wild in the swaying light. “You are just as useless as your mother, do you hear me? Would you expect the creditors to take over everything? Alpha Thorne just managed to take you in because you are still a virgin. You have no scent, only good to warm his bed.”

His thumb pressed against my windpipe. “You should be on your knees thanking the Goddess that any alpha is willing to touch a damaged goods like you.”

Damaged. That’s all I ever was to him—a broken thing from Mother’s death, my wolf too weak to even shift properly. If I had a scent, maybe I could’ve found a real mate, not this nightmare.

Black spots danced in my vision. I clawed at his wrist, nails scraping skin, but he only squeezed tighter.

My wolf—silent and ashamed for years—curled into a whimpering ball deep inside me. Help me, I begged it silently. Please wake up.

“Embarrass me today,” he whispered, breath hot and sour against my face, “scream, cry, run, anything stupid… and I will end you myself. Right there in front of the entire pack. Smile. Say your vows. Spread your legs tonight like the obedient little broodmare you were born to be. Do you understand?”

I managed a tiny nod.

He strangled me a second longer—just long enough for true terror to sink in—then released me.

I collapsed back against the seat, gasping, coughing, hand pressed to my bruised throat. Tears blurred everything.

How did we get here? He wasn't always this monster. He had been reading me about fated mates before the gambling, before Mother died... Now I am the villain fodder of the story.

"Clean your tears and smile. You must appear as presentable as he desires,” he ordered, settling himself on the other side of the seat.

The carriage soon stopped at the entrance of Blackthorn Manor.

The arm of my father passed through mine like he was the proudest parent on earth.

He led me down the long aisle between the rows of staring wolves. It was a palace of silk and suits, and jeweled eyes under crystal chandeliers. Thick incense burned my nose. The air was overly warm, too reeking with perfume and expectation.

They're all watching. Judging. Are they aware that I am a prisoner or do they believe that this is romantic?

Alpha Thorne was waiting at the altar.

He was all that the tales had promised, long, broad-shouldered, turned out of brutal strength. Dark hair was hanging over a sharp jaw.

A slight smile hovered on lips that had mouthed threats of atrocities upon thousands of foes.

What if he shatters me as the rumors say?

My father put my shaky hand between the big one of Thorne, and withdrew with a satisfied nod.

Traitor, I thought, looking at his shrinking back. You sold your blood for coins.

The voice of the elder was thunder rolling in the hall. “We are here under the full moon, we are binding Alpha Thorne Black, and Jessica Ross, in the sacred mate-bond.”

The fingers of Thorne tightened round mine nearly gentle, unless the nails prickled the flesh.

And is that always what it feels like? A cage disguised as a ring?

The elder continued. “Alpha Thorne, do you claim this female as your mate, your Luna, to protect and have?”

“I do,” Thorne answered at once, his voice deep, resonant, and giving me a certain unpleasant feeling.

He placed a bulky band of gold on my finger. Cold metal. Permanent cage.

The elder turned to me. “Do you, Jessica Ross, accept Alpha Thorne as your mate in order to honor him, obey him, and carry his legacy?”

There was so much silence that was choking.

Every eye burned into me.

Thorne's grip became iron.

I can't. But if I don't... Father's threat echoes. Death or this?

“I do,” I whispered, barely audible. The lie had the flavor of ash and blood.

The elder frowned. “Speak plainly, child, and that the Goddess and the pack might hear.”

Thorne drew in close in the guise of adjusting my veil. With his free hand he crept slowly up my arm, his fingers rubbing the swell of my breast with a slow, deliberate touch against the lace. A gentle, dirty caress that was not observed by the majority-but by me.

My face became hot and humiliating.

“Bastard. And what nerve hath he to handle me as if I were his property? But... why does my body react? Disloyal heat sinks low, and I clench my thighs.” I thought.

“Say it louder, little virgin," he hissed in my ear, voice velvet and venom. “Tell the whole pack you will be on your knees tonight, with your mouth open wide and begging my cock I will rip that tight, untouched body open. Or perhaps I’d just raise this pretty dress up here in the altar, lay these trembling thighs, and get them all to see how wet your new alpha is already dripping down you all."

My breath caught sharp.

My face grew hot, and my anger, my humiliation, and a traitorous aching deep in my belly made me despise myself more than I despised him.

His smell overwhelmed me, dark pine, woodsmoke, raw dominant male. It encircled my senses with transparent rope.

No. This isn't desire, it's fear. Or is it? My wolf whines, lost, dragging towards him nevertheless.

Everyone waited. The stare of my father went deep into my back.

The hand of Thorne fell on my waist, and pulled me roughly about against his body. His hands tore holes in my hip and grabbed a breath. "Say. It. Now."

I couldn't breathe again.

The fury and panic knocked in my chest.

Enough. I won't be broken. Not like this. Not by them.

There was a part of me that broke.

I kicked my knee high, hard, accurate--right in the balls--with all the desperate strength I had.

Thorne's eyes bulged. He gave a grunt that was strangled within his throat. His hold weakened to a blinking moment.

I ripped free.

Chaos erupted. The hall erupted into a frenzy--guests jumping to their feet, chairs scraping the marble, gasps rising into shouts.

Women held their pearls close; men snarled in their throats, eyes flaring amber and half turns in the press.

Sentinels at the room-edges scrambled over, knocking down the floral decorations in their haste, vases breaking like gunfire.

The elder blubbered, and cast aside his pious scroll, and the face of my father flushed with fury, and the veins rose as he pushed in the crowd at me.

I fastened my legs down the aisle, tearing off the veil, fists of layers of silk. Cold marble was slapped with bare feet. Shouts and gasps broke out behind me.

Everything was interrupted by the roar of my father--"Jessica!”

"Stop her! She’s mine!" Thorne voice thundered, with a pain-filled and angry voice. “Hunt her! Bring her back alive—I want to punish her myself!”

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  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

    RYDER’S POVThe pantry of the Spire was a tomb for things that were meant to be enjoyed. It was filled with the scents of excess and expensive cheeses rotting in their rinds, vintage wines gathering dust, and the stale, sweet perfume of the man currently shaking in my grip.I had Jessica’s Stepfather pinned against a rack of century-old Bordeaux. My fingers were knotted so deeply in his silk cravat that I could feel the frantic, pathetic flutter of his pulse against my knuckles. It was a fast, rhythmic tapping, like a moth beating its wings against a glass jar."You always were a gambling man, fool," I purred. My voice was a low, sandpaper rasp, vibrating with a wolf that had been denied its mate for too long. "But you’ve played a losing hand. You bet on a King who’s already rotting, and now the house is calling in your debt."Look at him. This is the man who raised her? This spineless heap of silk and cowardice sold the only light in this mountain for a handful of gold. My wolf wants

  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FIFTY

    JESSICA’S POVThe ritual chamber was no longer a room; it was a hungry throat. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of burning frankincense and something more primal—the smell of an impending storm. Outside, the sky was a bruised purple, the stars hiding as if ashamed of what the moon was about to become.The handmaidens approached me with ceremonial bowls carved from human bone. Their fingers, cold and impersonal, began the final anointing. This wasn’t like the previous baths. The oil they used now was thick, viscous, and laced with crushed belladonna and "Moon-thistle." As it touched my skin, my vision blurred at the edges. Every nerve ending didn't just wake up; they began to scream.The oil felt like liquid fire. It was designed to turn my skin into a conductor, a raw wire that would allow Thorne to siphon the Sovereignty out of my marrow. Every brush of the handmaidens’ silk gloves felt like a serrated blade. Every breath of air that moved through the open rafters felt like a

  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FORTY NINE

    JESSICA’S POVThe Obsidian Bath had been a war of skin and shadows, but the ritual chamber was a stage.After Thorne had dragged me from the dark—his eyes wild with a mixture of Belladonna-haze and frustrated lust—he had handed me over to the handmaidens. Now, I stood in the center of the Spire’s highest peak. The air here was thinner, colder, and smelled of the incense they were burning to "purify" the space for the Blood Moon."Don't pull away, Jessica," Thorne’s voice echoed against the vaulted stone.He was standing behind me, watching my reflection in a massive, floor-to-ceiling obsidian mirror. Two handmaidens women with stitched lips and vacant eyes—were draping the white ritual gown over my shoulders.The fabric was a cruel joke. It was gossamer silk, so thin it was practically a second skin, designed to highlight every curve and every mark of the Triad-Bond. Under the flickering torchlight, I looked less like a Queen and more like a ghost already halfway to the underworld."

  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

    RYDER’S POVThe iron shackles bitten into my wrists weren't the problem. I’d worn heavier chains in the pits of the North. The problem was the scent of Jessica faint, fading, and laced with the copper tang of fear drifting through the ventilation grates of my cell. It was driving me into a crazy state that no Null-magic could suppress."Keep your head down, mutt," the guard growled, slamming the butt of his pike into my kidneys.I stumbled, a dry groan escaping my throat, but I didn't fall. I couldn't. Under the sleeve of my shredded tunic, the small obsidian blade I’d palmed from the dining hall three nights ago pressed against my pulse. It was a sliver of glass, really, but in the hands of a man who had nothing left to lose, it was a god-slayer."You’re making a mistake," I rasped, my voice sounding like grinding gravel. "You should have killed me in the courtyard."The guard laughed, a hollow sound inside his silver helm. "The King wants you alive to watch him claim her. He says t

  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

    JESSICA’S POVThe iron door did not just close--it walled us in a stone and silent coffin.The slam echoed once, and then passed away so dead that it was as though the sound had been devoured alive. Darkness was not just the lack of light here but a living thing, which insinuated into my eyeballs, crawled behind my flesh. There was a smell of damp blood and iron in the air. Few tears dropped, but they were constant and regular on the obsidian walls, and they dropped in slow and calculated plinks, which beat out time like the last breath of a dying man.I used my back against the smooth stone and attempted to breathe softly.“Go no nearer,” I said, which was more sharper than I felt.The laugh of Thorne was a roar of the black--low, wet, already rotting along the edges with Belladonna still chewing his lungs. "Or what, little Sovereign? you will stare at me till I burn?”“I will see you choke with your own arrogance before the night is over.”He moved. It was not footsteps--rather som

  • Claimed by my Rejected Mate: Sold to the Brutal Alpha   CHAPTER FORTY SIX

    JESSICA POV The temple room was a grave of silence and obsidian. The mirrors that hung along the walls did not reflect the light, they seemed to absorb it, and all the wavering candles became ghosts. And here I was pitched upon the cold, hard altar in the middle of the room and the "Null-Magic" stones which were the floor stones were vibrating so much that I could taste them. It was a trembling, which attempted to extract the magic out of my blood, and to rub it down to dust. The guards were in the fringe and their faces were covered with silver masks. They didn't speak. They didn't move. They waited upon their King, and their devotion was a dreadful, clock-work affair, which not even health could make to falter. I rested on the rock, and my breath was spasmodic. My mind was a storm. Thorne had been poisoned, but the guards had remained faithful to his dying order. I needed time. The Alphas would have to be nearer. I had to find a means of letting them not initiate the ceremony b

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