The Alpha I need to buy

Sylvia's POV

"Let go of me." I yanked my arm out of his tight grip.

The cold night wind hit my face, biting into my skin and cooling the anger in my chest. I stared at the hand he just grabbed. My skin turned red from his brutal strength.

"You are making a huge mistake, Sylvia," Cassian warned. He stepped off the wooden platform, trying to tower over me. "You don't just walk away from me."

"I just did," I replied. I held my ground and stared right back at him. "And I expect my three million dollars in the Kensington bank account by sunrise. Don't make me send debt collectors to your front door."

"You can't do this!" Clara shouted. She ran down the wooden steps and grabbed Cassian's arm. Her face was pale, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Cassian, tell her she can't do this. The pack needs those funds for the winter! The pups will freeze!"

"Tell her yourself, Clara," I said. "Since you want to be the Luna so badly, you can figure out how to pay for the winter supplies. A Luna provides for her pack. Go provide."

Cassian bared his teeth. An ugly snarl escaped his throat. "You are acting like a spoiled, jealous child. I am your Alpha, and I command you to go to your room right now. We will discuss your punishment tomorrow morning."

"You just rejected me," I reminded him. "I don't belong to you anymore."

"You still belong to the Mercer pack," he snarled. "And as long as you are in my territory, you obey my laws. You submit to my authority."

"Then I won't stay in your territory," I shot back. "I am leaving tonight."

Cassian let out a loud, mocking laugh. It echoed across the silent courtyard. "You? Leave? You wouldn't last a single day past the border without my protection. You are weak, Sylvia. You have no survival skills. Rogues will tear you apart before morning."

"I would rather take my chances with wild rogues than spend another second breathing the same air as you." I turned my back on them and walked straight toward the heavy iron gates of the packhouse.

"If you walk out those gates, you don't come back!" Cassian shouted after me.

"I won't!" I yelled back.

I pushed through the iron gates and ran into the dark streets. The freezing rain started to pour, soaking my expensive silk dress in seconds. The heavy fabric clung to my legs, but I didn't slow down. My heart pounded hard against my ribs. I needed to run faster. I had to get out of the Mercer territory tonight.

My mind raced as I navigated the empty dirt roads leading to the forest border. According to the book's plot, Julian Sinclair, the exiled true heir, would return in exactly six months. When he came back, he would slaughter Cassian and anyone associated with the usurper's regime. That included me. The original Sylvia stayed in the packhouse, crying over Cassian, until Julian ripped her head off in chapter fifty.

I wasn't going to let that happen to me. I just needed to cross the boundary line, go to the human city, and live a quiet life far away from these crazy werewolves.

The trees grew thicker, signaling the edge of the pack lands. I saw the old stone markers hidden in the tall brush. Just a few more steps.

I ran past the stone markers. As soon as my right foot crossed the boundary line, a searing, burning pain shot up my leg.

"Ah!" I screamed.

I fell forward, crashing hard into the freezing mud. The pain was unbearable. It felt like someone wrapped a hot iron chain around my ankle and pulled tight. I gasped for air, clutching my leg. I quickly pulled up the heavy, wet fabric of my dress. A glowing red mark burned directly into my skin. It looked like a thick, twisted rope.

The pack tether.

I cursed out loud. I forgot about the dark magic. High-ranking nobles like the Kensingtons were bound to the territory by a magical tether to prevent them from betraying the Alpha. I couldn't leave. The magic would literally burn my leg off if I walked any further. The only way to break a pack tether was to have an Alpha willingly release it.

Cassian would never release me. He would keep me trapped here out of pure spite.

I sat in the cold mud and let the rain wash over my face. I needed to calm down. Panic wouldn't save me. I forced myself to organize the plot of the book in my head.

I needed to escape, but the tether trapped me. I also needed money to survive. The three million dollars Cassian owed me was just a fraction of my family's wealth. The real Kensington fortune sat inside a hidden vault under my estate. But my dead father locked that vault with old pack blood magic. I needed the blood of a royal Alpha to open it.

I needed an Alpha to open the vault. I needed an Alpha to break the tether.

Cassian was useless.

But I knew a massive secret. The true heir wasn't dead. Julian Sinclair was alive.

Right now, Julian was fighting in the illegal underground rings on the edge of the territory. He lived like a feral beast in the slums, hiding his true identity from Cassian's guards. If I could find him, buy his fighting contract, and fund his revenge against Cassian, I could force him to help me. I could make him break my tether and spare my life in exchange for the throne.

It was a crazy, suicidal plan. Julian hated my family. He might kill me the second he saw me. But it was my only option.

I pulled myself out of the mud. I wiped the dirt off my face and wrung out my wet hair. I turned away from the border and faced the dark, dangerous side of the territory. The slums.

I walked for an hour through the freezing rain until I reached a rundown, abandoned warehouse district. The smell of cheap alcohol, sweat, and garbage hung heavy in the damp air.

A huge, ugly rogue wolf stood guarding a heavy steel door in a dark alleyway.

"Where do you think you are going, princess?" the rogue grunted. He stepped in front of the door, blocking my path. "This isn't a place for fancy little girls."

"Move out of my way," I demanded. My voice was cold and steady.

The rogue laughed. "Do you even know what is behind this door? They fight to the death in there. You will faint at the sight of blood."

"I said move," I repeated. I reached into my soaked bag, pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, and shoved it hard against his chest. "I am here to buy a fighter. Now open the door before I have my guards rip your throat out."

The rogue stared at the money. His eyes widened in pure greed. He quickly snatched the cash and stuffed it into his dirty jacket pocket.

"Alright, crazy lady," he muttered. "Your funeral."

He grabbed the massive iron handle and pulled. The heavy steel doors of the pit creaked open. Blood scent hit me.