Chapter 2 - Who Said She's Leaving?

POV: Ava

I was wrong about the whole rock bottom thing. For a second, I forgot devils like my parents were very capable of throwing people like me into hell to burn. 

"Don't make this difficult."

My father didn't look at me as he spoke. He stood by the fireplace, his large back to the room, staring at the dying fire. His fingers were wrapped tightly around a crystal glass of whiskey, the liquid shaking slightly.

I stood in the center of the parlor, my small leather travel bag resting against my boot. The ache in my chest from Kael's broken bond was still a dull, throbbing weight, but the brutality in this room was so much worse.

"Sold," I repeated, the word tasting like dirt on my tongue. "You're selling me into a marriage to fix your political standing. That's what this is, isn't it? A contract with some old lord who needs a breeder."

My mother let out a sharp, mocking laugh from the sofa. "Marriage? You think you have that kind of value after what happened tonight, Ava? Don't be ridiculous."

My father turned around slowly, his face pale and his eyes bloodshot. He didn't look like a proud pack elder. He looked small and….desperate.

"You aren't going to become a bride, Ava," he muttered, taking a  swallow of his drink. "You're serving as collateral. I had a bad run at the northern border casinos last month. The cards didn't land right. I owe a debt, and the lender is here to collect the payment."

The truth hit me like a punch in the gut. A gambling debt. He hadn't lost our territory or our businesses; he had lost a bet, and he was handing over his eldest daughter to balance the ledger.

Before I could even voice the rage burning in my throat, the  front doors of the estate groaned open.

The temperature in the foyer dropped instantly. A suffocating,  Alpha pressure flooded into the house, so thick it made the glass cabinets rattle against the walls. My mother's breath caught in her throat, her wine glass slipping from her fingers and shattering against the rug.

Three men stepped into the parlor.

The leader was massive. He stood well over six feet, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the hallway light. He wore a dark leather coat dusted with snow, and a jagged scar ran across his weathered cheekbone down to his jaw. His alpha presence was terrifying, raw, and completely unhinged. He didn't smell like the polished, clean pine of the Silvercrest pack. He smelled like blood, leather, and more blood.

Everyone in the room braced themselves. My father bowed his head instantly, his knees trembling as the massive Alpha stepped onto the rug.

My mother shielded her eyes, terrified. They both expected him to look at me, pull me by my hair, and claim his prize or something. They expected a brutal alpha beast who wanted to degrade a broken, fat pack daughter.

The massive Alpha stopped three feet away from me. He didn't touch me. 

He slowly lowered his head, his dark eyes studying my face. He looked at my oversized hoodie, my messy dark curls, and he sniffed the air once, catching the faint, rotten scent of Kael's fresh rejection bond still bleeding from my neck.

He leaned back, a look of boredom settling over his scarred face.

“This the girl?” He asked, his eyes darting back to my father. 

“Y-yes, Alpha…” my dad was still talking when the big guy interrupted him. 

"Not interested," he said.

His voice was a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated through the floorboards.

My father blinked, his head snapping up in confusion. "What? Alpha Vance, the ledger stated—"

"I don't care what the ledger stated," Vance barked, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "I came to collect a prime bloodline asset to clear a fifty-thousand-coin marker. I didn't come to haul away a broken, rejected wolf who is currently bleeding out from a snapped mate bond. She’s dead weight. She’ll slow down my border guard, and her wolf is too unstable to work the tracking lines. The deal is off. Liquidate your properties by sunrise, or I start taking limbs."

My mother let out a small shriek, her hands flying to her mouth.

I stood perfectly still, my mind running through the lines of what just happened. They were trading me like cattle, and I wasn't even good enough for the butcher. Nyx clawed at the walls of my mind, her fury screaming at the insult, but I forced her down.

Then, a quiet step came from the doorway.

A young Alpha stepped forward from the shadow of the hallway. He was around my age, maybe twenty-four, with sharp, focused features and a lean, athletic build. He wore the standard dark uniform of the northern military transfer program, a silver crest pinned neatly to his high collar. He had been standing behind the older Alpha the entire time, his hands tucked quietly into his pockets.

He walked into the light, his gaze fixing entirely on me. There was no disgust in his eyes. And he didn't really look like he was pitying me, either. There was just a strange, deep curiosity that made my wolf tilt her head in surprise.

"Then I'll take responsibility for her," the young Alpha announced.

His voice was steady, calm, and way too confident for a room full of terrifying elders.

My father gasped, his jaw dropping open. My mother froze, staring at the young soldier like he had lost his mind. Even Alpha Vance turned his scarred head, his eyebrows raising in amusement as he looked at the younger man.

"You want to buy out a senior elder's debt for this stray, Rowan?" Vance chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "Your family's scholarship budget must be deeper than I thought."

"The transfer ledger allows a military proxy to assume collateral if the primary asset is rejected," Rowan explained, his eyes never leaving my face. He took a slow step closer to my bench. "The Silvercrest guard needs analysts for the northern front. Her line has strong tracking blood, even if her bond is broken. I'll cover the fifty thousand coins from my sector fund. She leaves with me."

I stared at him, my knuckles tightening inside my pockets. A transfer student. A junior officer from the northern academies was buying my freedom just to stick me in a military office.

"Who said she's leaving?"

A furious roar cut through the parlor before my father could even answer.

The front door slammed against the wall so hard the frame cracked. Kael marched into the room, his hair messy from the wind, his ice-blue eyes flashing with a terrifying, toxic rage. His chest was heaving, his royal guard cape flying behind him as he stormed straight toward the center of the parlor.

He didn't look at my father. He didn't look at the scarred Alpha. He stopped right beside Rowan, his fangs baring as he glared at the young soldier, his hand dropping directly to the silver hilt of his sword.

"Step away from my pack's property, you dirty lowlife," Kael hissed, his voice shaking with a dark, suffocating possessiveness that made the air go really unsafe to breathe. "I rejected her from my table, but she is still a daughter of Silvercrest. Nobody takes a single wolf out of this territory without my signature. She stays right here.”