Death To The Alpha

~Ivy POV~

That’s how he was, though: protective, loving, and overwhelmingly strong. I pause in my steps, gulping down a deep breath and trying to quell the tears in my eyes. They seem to come unbidden when I think of him or Caleb–my older brother. One day I will be reunited with them and we will laugh about the terrible shitty journey I had to take to get to them. But it will all be worth it. I know it will.

As soon as I’m in control of my emotions, I stumble forward again and the breeze changes, whipping my long, knotted, dirty blond hair around my face. I curse the winds until I catch the scent of a bonfire and the whispers of people in the distance. Finally, someone in the shithole rocky desert who can help me. Or so I hope.

My pace quickens when the smell of food hits my nose, sending my wolf and senses into overdrive. I haven’t had proper food in days. Sure, I had dried meat and berries, but this is freshly cooked meat. Warm and worthy of salivating over. It could taste like dirt, and I would still beg for it at this point. Anything warm and fresh is worth begging for when you have been left out in the wild for days with nowhere to go. 

As I approach the bonfire, I see a group of four men sitting around it chatting with a low hum and the occasional chuckle tumbling from their lips. They seem happy and nice. Not that it matters. My options have run out and I need to sidle up to these men to get what I want. And I have a knack for not backing down. I’ve been told it’s a terrible nuisance. I’m starting to see it as my special talent these days. 

“Help” I rasp out. My voice is gravelly from lack of use. The men don’t seem to notice me, and I grow agitated. Werewolves have excellent hearing, so these guys might just be dicks who ignore an injured woman. I lurch forward, trying to climb the small rocky hill as the dirt and rocks crumble from beneath my feet. A loud hiss falls from my lips and the talking stops.

“Who is there?” One man calls out. I could whimper in glee at them, finally using their ears.

“Help!” I call out with all the energy I can muster. Their eyes swing around until they land on me and a guy jumps up, rushing over to the hill. His eyes grow wide as he looks me over and immediately he throws my arm over his shoulder and helps me up the hill.

“Where the hell did you come from?” He mutters.

“I got lost when I went out with my boyfriend. It has been four days since I’ve seen him. I think he is dead.” I tell him, my eyes misting again as he gives me a look of pity.

“You are not from a slave convoy?” He asks, looking at me suspiciously. I scowl at him. 

“I may be injured and look dirty, but do I have the face of a slave, sir?” I jut my chin out to prove my point and he takes a moment to look me over. His dark eyes scan my face and he nods, then sits me on a log at the bonfire. All the men sit and stare at me, some gulping as they look over my body, which is more on display than I would like it to be. 

“Here, let me help get you fixed up,” a different one says as the first guy shuffles away. 

“What is your name, girl?” An older guy says, his eyes firmly locked on my breasts.

“Ivy,” I say shyly. I’m not liking the hungry gaze of a few of these men.

“Mmm, that’s a pretty name.” The older guy says, finally meeting my eyes. A shiver runs down my spine at the look he is giving me. He licks his lips and continues to hold my gaze.

“I’m Ron. This here is Jason, Drew, Keith, and the guy grabbing the medical supplies is Randall.” He points each of the guys out and they all give me a nod before looking at each other sheepishly. 

“Hungry?” One of them asks. I think this one is Keith? But I don’t pay them much mind because they have warm food and I really really missed warm food. So I nod my head emphatically and he grabs me a plate and stacks it with some pieces of meat and slices of cheese. He grabs a loaf of bread and rips a chunk for me and moves to my side, handing it to me. 

“Thanks.” I get out as he watches me closely. I try to avert my eyes and look down at my feet, but I can feel his eyes scanning me like a laser, honed in on my exposed parts and curves. I busy myself by digging into the food, and fight against the moan of its flavor as it burst across my tongue.

“Move, Keith,” Randall grumbles. “I gotta patch up her side.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith says, moving away. 

Randal kneels at my side and pushes my elbow up so he can get to my side. He doesn’t try to be gentle as he cleans out my wound and presses on it, his fingers lingering far too long for my liking. After he has it bandaged, he stays where he is. His thumb rubs the adhesive to make it stick, but I find his fingers wandering up closer to the hem of my crop top that barely covers my bra underneath it. 

His heavy panting and his warm breath on my arm have me pulling away with a hard swallow.

“Thanks,” I say, shifting further from his side. 

“Look what you did, Randall. You are making her uncomfortable.” Ron sighs.

“Forget about him, darling. He is just a horny fucker. The slaves we are moving won’t put out for him, and we can’t touch the merchandise. They check that shit. No one wants a loose slave.”

“You are slave traders?” I ask, my eyes widening as I finally look up from my plate for the first time since they handed me my food.

“Yep. The best traders this side of the river.” He gives me a toothy grin and the reflection of the fire flickers in his eyes, making him look almost menacing.

“Where are you taking them?” I ask, reaching out to take a cup from—I think about Drew’s hand? I don’t know.

“Silvermoon pack. Heard of them?” He asks. He looks like he is trying to catch me in a lie. Trying to figure out what I am about and where I came from. He is trying to see if my story is true or not. 

“Of course I have. Everyone has heard of the Silvermoon pack. They are the biggest and toughest pack.” I say flatly. He must think I’m an idiot because of how I look. My bloody and dirty crop top and my skinny jeans are holey and caked in mud. I’m sure I look like the right mess I feel.

“Ever been to the Silvermoon pack before?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Really?” He lifts a brow and then nods his head. “I haven’t been there before either. They summoned us. Apparently, they want the best of the best slaves. That’s what we provide.”

“And where do you find your slaves?” I ask him, tilting my head. 

He gives me a shrug. “Here and there.”

“Yeah… some of them just wandered up on us looking for food,” Jason says, giving me a wink and I frown. 

“I-I-I don’t think I should stay here…” I stutter out rising to my feet. A sick feeling settles deep in my bones as my warning bells go off. Maybe if I hadn’t been injured and starving, I would have heard them ringing long before I came across them. Maybe, but then again, maybe not.

“Calm yourself, Ivy,” Ron says. “Jason has a terrible sense of humor. We have no need for injured slaves. But if you would like to journey with us so you can find your way back home or look for that very lucky boyfriend of yours, you are welcome to.”

“Really?” I ask, my muscles relaxing as I sigh in relief.

“Of course.” He says, grinning at me again. “Here. I’ll even let you rest in my blanket and such. If you would feel more comfortable in the car, you can lock yourself in the back.”

Gratitude washes over me and I give him a genuine smile, which makes his mouth drop open. He snaps it shut.

“Really?”

“Sure,” he says as he nods his head and tosses me a set of keys.

After I snatch them from the air, I rush to the SUV that beeps unlocked and I crawl in, locking the doors behind me. I lay there in the back seat for a few moments as the fear slowly slinks away with my consciousness and I’m immersed in troubled dreams. I thrash as the nightmares take hold of me. Wolves tearing at the people around me, my limbs are heavy and my body feels dirty and sodden with blood. 

A cry from my lips wakes me and I open my eyes to see a man hovering over me. I try to jump up, but he has me pinned, his hips pressing against mine, grinding into my thigh. He has my hands locked above my head. Frantically, I search for a way out and I blink when I realize I’m no longer in the vehicle's safety. Ron leans down and licks my neck as I whimper.

“Please,” I cry out. “Don’t… don’t do this.”

“Why is that? You saving yourself for your little boyfriend?” His hot breath sends goosebumps over my pale skin and I shiver. A small sob breaks from me, and I cry out for help. Randall comes running, and I plead with my eyes as he chuckles. 

“Thought you could keep her all for yourself, huh Ron? Scream all you want pretty thing. Ain't nobody out here to save you.” He says rocking back on his heels.

“I’m the leader. And she looks like a virgin to me. This tight little pussy is mine.” He growls possessively.

“Meh, you know I don’t care about that. I just want a turn when you’re done.” Randall licks his lips and sends me a wink and my blood turns to ice. My eyes slide closed as I reach deep inside for my resolve and when I open my eyes again, I’m the strong woman I know myself to be and I look Ron dead in the eyes. 

“If you lay another finger on me, you will regret it.” I seethe. My skin burns with anger, wanting to sear his touch off me. 

He Just cackles at my futile attempt to deter him and reaches down for my crop top. Ron roughly grabs hold of my breast hard enough to make me cry out in pain. Then he rips my shirt off me, exposing my black bra. His eyes light up in desire, and I smirk at him. He has no idea what he has just done. 

One minute Ron is looking at me like I’m a meal and the next his blood is drenching my exposed chest, covering me like the shirt he tore from my body. His eyes are void of life as he falls to the side. I stand and move to my savior’s side—A massive black and gray wolf who nuzzles into me. His large head swings to assess my face, and I give him a soft smile, reaching out to pat his head.