He Regretted It and Begged for a Second Chance

Chapter 1: The Debt

Elara stumbled as her father dragged her down the hallway. His grip on her arm was like a vice, bruising her skin. He didn’t look back. He wouldn't even meet her eyes.

"Shut up, Elara," he snapped, his voice shaky. "Just... shut up and let me fix this."

He kicked open the heavy doors to his study. The room felt freezing, the air-con cranked way too high. Abram Silas was already there, sitting behind her father’s desk like he owned the place. He was nursing a glass of scotch, looking bored and dangerous.

"You’re late, Miller," Abram said. His voice was a low growl that made Elara’s stomach do a somersault.

"I have her," Elara's father panted, shoving her forward.

Elara tripped, her palms slapping hard against the cold floor. "Ow! What the hell, Dad?"

"The northern territory is a total loss, Abram," her father hurried to say, ignoring her. "The bank pulled the loans, the rogue attacks destroyed the crops—I don't have the cash. But we had a deal. A life for the debt."

Elara’s head snapped up. "A life? What are you talking about? What deal?"

Her father finally looked at her, but there was no pity there. Only desperation. Elara felt a cold lump form in her throat. She knew how the pack saw her. She was the fourth daughter. The "wolfless" freak who couldn't shift. Her sisters were all married off to high-ranking Alphas, bringing in money and power. She was the only one left. The spare part.

Abram stood up. He didn't even look at her father. He walked around the desk, his boots clicking slow and heavy on the floor. He stopped right in front of Elara.

He reached down, hooking a finger under her chin to force her to look at him. His eyes were like ice.

"Your father owes me millions," Abram said, his thumb brushing her jaw. "He can't pay. But you? You're a lot more interesting than a bank transfer."

"I'm not a piece of property," Elara gasped, trying to pull away. "Dad, tell him! You can't just give me away!"

"I have to!" her father yelled, his voice cracking. "The pack is broke, Elara! Thousands of people will be homeless. Do you want that? You want your sisters to starve because you’re being selfish?"

The guilt hit her like a punch to the gut. Selfish? He was the one who gambled the pack’s future, and now he was using her lack of a wolf as an excuse to throw her away.

Abram checked his watch. "The sun sets in five minutes, Miller. Either she comes with me, or I sign the eviction papers for the whole territory. Decide. Now."

"Take her," her father whispered. He didn't even hesitate. "Take her and we're even."

He turned and bolted out of the room. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Elara stared at the door, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was alone with the man they called the Butcher of Blackwood.

Abram grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. He didn't care if she was steady or not; he just held her in place. He leaned in close, smelling like expensive cologne and something sharp, like steel.

"Don't look so scared," he whispered in her ear. "You’re moving into a palace."

He started pulling her toward the back exit. Elara tried to dig her heels in, but it was like trying to stop a freight train.

"Just one thing," he added, his voice dropping to a dark, jagged edge. "The palace doors? They only lock from the outside. You aren't a guest, Elara. You're mine."