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CHAPTER 1: THE LIE
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2026-03-01 05:20:28Sera Winters pov
Some prisons have bars. Some have mothers who smile when they hand you the key. My mother was lying. I should have known. The coffee was from the good place downtown, the one she never went to because it cost too much. She was wearing lipstick. My mother never wore lipstick before noon. "Sera, sweetheart." She put the cup down on my counter like it was fragile. Like it might break. "I need your help." I was still in my pajamas. My apartment was freezing because the heater barely worked and the landlord kept saying he'd fix it next week. Next week for three months now. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at the coffee cup. Steam rising. Expensive coffee I didn't ask for. "What happened?" I asked. She laughed. High and too fast. "Nothing happened. Why would something happen?" Because you're here. Because you brought coffee. Because you're lying. "I just need you to do something for me," she said. Her hands were moving, touching the counter, touching her purse, touching everything like she couldn't hold still. "Some old friends need help. They're going through a hard time and I told them you'd stay with them for a while. Just a few weeks." My stomach dropped. "What friends?" "The Thorns. You were little when we knew them. You wouldn't remember." I didn't remember. But I remembered other things. Like how two years ago she told me my stepsister was in Europe studying art. How she smiled when she said it. How I found out six months later from my aunt that there was no art program. That my stepsister wasn't in Europe. That no one had seen her in years and nobody wanted to talk about why. "Mom, I can't just leave. I have work." "You hate that job." She said it so fast. Like she'd been waiting to say it. "You're exhausted all the time. You need a break." I did hate that job. I was exhausted. But that wasn't the point. "Where do they live?" "Upstate. It's beautiful there. Forest and quiet and—" "How far?" She looked at her hands. "A few hours." My throat felt tight. "When?" "Today. We can leave in an hour." Today. An hour. Like my whole life could just be packed up and moved in an hour. "Please, Sera." Her voice cracked. Actually cracked. And when I looked at her I saw my mom. The real one. The one who used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep. Before Dad left. Before she married Marcus. Before everything got complicated and wrong and twisted up. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." And that was it. That was always it with her. The please. The crack in her voice. The little girl inside me that still wanted her mother to love her. "Okay," I said. Her whole body relaxed. "Thank you, baby. Thank you." I nodded and went to pack. My hands were shaking. • • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • • The trees started about an hour into the drive. At first it was normal. Houses and gas stations and the highway. Then the exits got farther apart. Then there were no exits at all. Just road and trees. Trees so thick I couldn't see past them. Trees so tall they blocked out the sky. My mother hadn't said a word since we left. Her hands were white on the steering wheel. Her jaw was locked. She looked like she was driving to a funeral. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Fine." "You don't seem fine." "I'm fine, Sera." She wasn't fine. And I wasn't fine. And nothing about this was fine but we were doing it anyway because that's what we did. We pretended. My phone died somewhere around mile marker forty-three. No signal for the last hour anyway. I tried to turn it back on but the screen stayed black. "Do you have a charger?" I asked. "No." Of course not. The road got narrower. The trees got closer. And I started feeling it. This weight in my chest. This pressure. Like something was sitting on my lungs and wouldn't get off. "How much longer?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "Not long." She was lying again. I could always tell when she lied. Her voice went flat. Empty. Like she'd scooped out all the feeling and left just the words. I wanted to ask her to turn around. I wanted to scream at her to stop the car. But I didn't. Because I never did. Because I was the good daughter. The one who didn't make trouble. The one who fixed things instead of breaking them. So I sat there and watched the trees swallow us whole. • • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • • The house came out of nowhere. One second there was just forest. The next second there was this massive stone wall covered in vines. And behind the wall was the house. It looked like something from a gothic novel. All dark stone and sharp towers and windows that looked black even in the daylight. It looked like the kind of place where bad things happened and nobody ever found out. My mother stopped the car. Neither of us moved. "This is it?" I asked. "Yes." "This is where your friends live?" "Yes." I stared at the house. At the windows. At the door that looked like it was made of iron. "Mom, I don't—" The door opened. Three men came out. I stopped breathing. The first one was tall. So tall he had to duck under the doorframe. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. He moved like a soldier. Like someone who'd spent his whole life being in control of everything and everyone around him. His eyes were gray. Cold gray. Storm gray. When he looked at me I felt it in my spine. "Mrs. Winters." His voice was deep. Quiet. Dangerous. "Right on time." My mother got out of the car. I didn't. I couldn't. "Caelan," she said. Her voice was shaking. Actually shaking. "This is my daughter. Sera." He looked at me through the windshield. Really looked. Like he was seeing through the glass and through my skin and straight into my bones. "Hello, Sera." Two words. Just two words. But they felt like a hand around my throat. The second man stepped forward. Lean and sharp and wrong. He moved like a wolf. All grace and danger and hunger. His eyes were gold. Bright gold. Inhuman gold. He smiled at me and every cell in my body screamed run. "She's prettier than I thought she'd be," he said. My mother's face went white. "Daxen, please—" "What? I'm complimenting her." He tilted his head. Still smiling. Still looking at me like I was something he wanted to taste. "You did good, Mrs. Winters. Real good." I grabbed the door handle. My hands were slick with sweat. The third man stepped between them. Younger. Softer face. Kind eyes. He put his hand on the wolf-man's shoulder and said something I couldn't hear. Then he looked at me and smiled. A real smile. A gentle smile. "I'm Kieran," he said through the glass. "I know this is scary. But I promise you're safe here." I didn't believe him. My mother opened my door. "Come on, baby," she said. "Let's get your bag." I got out because I didn't know what else to do. My legs felt wrong. Weak. Like they might give out any second. The three men watched me. All three of them. Just standing there. Watching. Caelan's face was unreadable. Daxen was still smiling that hungry smile. Kieran looked concerned. Like he actually cared. Like he wasn't part of whatever this was. My mother got my bag from the trunk. One bag. I'd only packed one bag because she said it was just a few weeks. "I'll walk you in," she said. We went inside. The house was worse inside than outside. High ceilings that made everything echo. Dark wood everywhere. Cold. So cold I could see my breath. "The guest room is upstairs," Caelan said. "Kieran will show you." Guest room. Like I was a guest. Like I'd chosen to be here. My mother put my bag down at the bottom of the stairs. Then she turned to me and I saw it. The goodbye in her eyes. "Wait," I said. "You're not staying?" "I have to go back. I have things to take care of." "What things?" "Just things, Sera." "Mom—" "You'll be fine." She kissed my forehead. Fast. Like she was afraid if she stopped she wouldn't be able to leave. "I'll call you in a few days." "My phone's dead." "Then I'll call the house." She was already walking toward the door. I grabbed her arm. Held on. "Please don't leave me here." She looked at my hand on her arm. Then at my face. And for one second I saw something. Guilt maybe. Regret. Something human. Then it was gone. "You're twenty-two years old, Sera. You can handle a few weeks on your own." She pulled her arm away. Gentle but firm. "Be good." Be good. Like I was five years old and she was dropping me off at school. She walked out the door. I stood there and watched her get in the car. Watched her start the engine. Watched her drive away without looking back once. The door closed behind me. I heard the lock click. "Come on," Kieran said softly. "Let me show you your room." I turned around. All three of them were staring at me. Caelan with his cold gray eyes. Daxen with his hungry smile. Kieran with his kind, lying face. And I knew. My mother didn't bring me here to help her friends. She brought me here for them. • • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • • The room was nice. Too nice. Big bed with white sheets. Wooden dresser. A vase of flowers on the nightstand. Peonies. My favorite flowers. How did they know peonies were my favorite? "Bathroom's through there," Kieran said, pointing to a door in the corner. "If you need anything just let us know." "When is my mother coming back?" He paused. Just for a second. But I saw it. "Soon," he said. Liar. "Get some rest," he said. "Dinner's at seven." He left. I heard his footsteps fade down the hallway. Heard another door close somewhere. Then silence. I sat on the bed. My whole body was shaking. Not just my hands. Everything. My legs. My arms. My jaw. Like I was freezing from the inside out. I needed to leave. I needed to get out of here and find a phone and call someone. Anyone. But who would I call? My mother just sold me. My stepfather wouldn't care. My stepsister was gone. I had friends from work but not the kind you call when you're trapped in a house in the middle of nowhere with three strange men who look at you like you're food. I had no one. I was alone. I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry. • • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ୨ ୧ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • • I woke up to voices. The room was dark. I didn't remember falling asleep. My phone was still dead on the nightstand. The voices were coming from downstairs. Male voices. Low and serious. I got up. Pressed my ear to the door. "She doesn't know yet." That was Caelan. "When do we tell her?" Daxen. Silence. Then Kieran. Soft and careful. "Let her sleep. By morning she'll understand what she is." What she is. Not who. What. My heart stopped. Just stopped. And when it started again it was too fast. Too hard. Slamming against my ribs like it was trying to break out. I stepped back from the door. My hand over my mouth. My breath coming in short, sharp gasps that sounded too loud in the dark. My mother wasn't coming back. She wasn't calling in a few days. She sold me. She actually sold me. And tomorrow these men were going to tell me what I was. What I was worth. What they bought. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something. But I just stood there in the dark with my hand over my mouth and thought about the lock on the front door. About the forest outside. About the fact that I got in the car even though I knew. I knew something was wrong. I knew she was lying. And I got in the car anyway. Because somewhere deep down I thought that being wanted—even like this—was better than being nothing at all.
최신 챕터
SOLD TO THE ALPHA BROTHERS CHAPTER 41: THE INVESTIGATION
POV: Sera Winters“Show me everything.”The brothers looked at each other. That silent communication thing they did.“Sera—” Caelan started.“No.” I cut him off. “No more protecting me. Helena said my mother contacted the Council about reincarnation. You said you’ve been investigating her. Show me.”Kieran moved to his laptop. Opened files. Turned the screen toward me.“We started digging after you arrived,” he said. “Your mother’s background. Where she came from. Who she really was.”I leaned forward. Birth certificate on screen. Driver’s license. Marriage certificate to my stepfather.“This says she was born thirty-eight years ago,” I said. “That’s normal.”“Keep looking.”I scrolled. School records. Elementary. Middle school. High school graduation.Then nothing.“Where’s the rest?” I asked. “College? Work history?”“Doesn’t exist,” Daxen said. “No college records. No employment before twenty-five.
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