The Alpha Devil’s Dark Temptation

Maureen Laurent

Ice water slapped my face.

“Wake up, whores!”

The scream came with the next bucket. I lurched upright on the freezing stone floor, chains clinking, scrambling into line before the whip found my back again. Twenty naked, shivering girls pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in the dark. The stench of piss, blood, and terror coated the air.

I wasn’t born for this.

Once, I had silk sheets and a father who called me “little star.” Once, I had a mother’s hand on my cheek and a fiancé who swore he’d die for me.

Now I had welts that never healed and a collar burned into my throat that said PROPERTY OF THE NORTHERN DOMINION.

The overseer—a scarred wolf with a missing ear—strode down the row, boot splashing through the puddles. His gaze snagged on the blind girl two bodies to my left. Pale as bone, nineteen at most, trembling so hard her chains rattled like bells.

“You—crawling on the floor like a worm. What the fuck are you doing?”

Her voice cracked. “I-I dropped my bread, sir… I’m sorry, I’m hungry—”

“Hungry?” He laughed, low and ugly. “You’ll learn hunger here, bitch.”

He spat in her face. The glob slid down her cheek while the guards howled with laughter.

I wanted to look away. I didn’t. You learn fast: look weak and they make it worse.

“Line up for prayer,” the overseer barked. “And say it like you mean it, or I’ll skin the lot of you.”

We dropped to our knees in unison, foreheads pressed to the wet stone. The words were carved into every slave’s tongue the first night.

“Oh hail Alpha Devil Vuk, firstborn of Lucifer and Selene, flame-crowned king of the North.

My lips moved, but no sound came. I couldn’t breathe the words anymore. Not when every syllable tasted like damnation.

A boot kicked my ribs. “Louder, fresh meat.”

I choked the prayer out with the rest, voice raw, tasting iron and shame.

The heavy iron doors at the end of the hall groaned open.

“Move.”

Guards herded us like cattle, chains dragging, bare feet slapping wet stone. Cold air became steam and perfume as we were shoved into the bathing chamber. Copper tubs. Boiling water. Bristled brushes that scraped skin from bone.

They stripped the last of our dignity with the dirt.

I kept my eyes down, scrubbing blood and filth from my breasts, my thighs, the welts across my back that would never heal here. The transparent gray silk they threw at us afterward clung to every curve, hiding nothing. Wet fabric stuck to my nipples, my hips, the small curls between my legs. We looked like offerings.

The blind girl slipped.

Her pale body hit the tiles hard, chains clattering. A guard laughed and kicked her ribs. She whimpered, trying to crawl away.

Something in me moved before thought. I caught her arm, hauled her up. Her fingers clutched mine, bony and freezing.

She lifted her milky eyes to my face—and froze.

Her lips parted. A voice came out that didn’t sound nineteen. Didn’t sound human.

“You carry the moon in your womb… and the flame will devour it.

The words slammed into me like fists.

I dropped her arm and stumbled back, heart exploding against my ribs.

She blinked, confused, then giggled—high, broken, wrong. “S-sorry. I say stupid things sometimes. Don’t listen to me, I’m cracked in the head.” She tapped her temple and smiled like a child.

I couldn’t answer. My tongue was ash.

They marched us out.

Down torch-lit corridors that stank of lust and terror, into the auction hall.

Red velvet. Gold cages. Rich wolves in masks lounging on chaise lounges, drinks in hand, eyes hungry.

We were lined up on the block like meat.

One by one, girls were dragged forward, inspected, sold.

Fingers pried open mouths, spread thighs, tested breasts. Coins clinked. Laughter echoed.

I remembered the overseer’s whisper in the dark last night, breath hot against my ear:

“If no one buys you tonight, witch… we slaughter you at dawn. Slowly.”

My turn came too fast.

Rough hands shoved me center stage. The auctioneer yanked my head back by the hair, forced my mouth open for the crowd.

“How clean is she?” a masked voice drawled from the shadows.

The auctioneer grinned, teeth yellow. “Virgin. Untouched. Fresh from the southern packs. Still smells like innocence—if you beat it out of her fast enough.”

A ripple of dark laughter.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Please, Moon Goddess. Anyone. Anything. Just don’t let me die here.

“Mmm. Ten million.”

The hall went still.

A different voice this time—low, amused, laced with something ancient and starving.

The chain around my throat snapped loose. Air rushed into my lungs so fast I swayed.

Sold.

The buyer stepped out of the shadows.

Tall. Cloaked in black. Silver rings on every finger. A smile sharp enough to cut souls.

He walked straight to me, unbuttoned his long coat, and draped it over my shivering shoulders. The fabric swallowed me whole, warm from his body, smelling of pine and hellfire.

His hand brushed my cheek—almost gentle.

Then he turned to the crowd, voice ringing with cruel delight.

“This one,” he announced, “will make perfect sense for the Hunt.”

The hall roared with approval.

My stomach dropped to the stone floor.

The Hunt.

Three nights from now, under the full moon, the Alpha Devil and his court released new toys into the frozen forest.

And hunted them for sport.

Some were caught and collared.

The man leaned in, lips grazing my ear.

“This is going to be interesting ,” he whispered. “I paid ten million for the pleasure of chasing you myself.”

He pulled back, golden eyes flashing just for a second—too bright, too predatory—then turned and strode away.

I stood frozen in his coat, heart hammering, legs trembling.

Because those eyes…

I knew those eyes.

And the man who owned them hadn’t even bid yet.