Chapter 1 — Betrayed and Sold

AURORA

“We don’t have a choice, Elijah, we can’t starve!”

I frowned when I heard voices coming from my father’s room. I peered into the slightly ajar door and I saw that it was my stepmother, Veronica who was berating my father again.

I rolled my eyes, what is she talking about again? She was always berating my father and most times I wondered why he even married her.

“Please, calm down, Veronica, we can sort this out,” my father was saying.

Veronica seemed outraged by my father’s choice of words as her face twisted into an ugly sneer.

“I’m pregnant with twins, Elijah, do something before we starve to death!” Veronica screamed at him.

I sighed and walked away. The hunger issue in my house was now so bad that we couldn't even afford two meals a day. We were barely able to afford a measly meal.

It’s been six months since the werewolves stormed our lands and claimed New York as their stronghold.

Six months ago, all I wanted was to graduate high school. Six months later, I learned that monsters weren’t just in fairytales because wolves with glowing eyes and razor-sharp fangs had come to enslave us.

Since their invasion, everything had changed. Food was scarce. The werewolves hoarded everything, demanding tributes and offering scraps only if you bent to their rule. The human market collapsed. Even a loaf of bread was as costly as gold.

For six months, my father had done his best to keep us alive. But now that Veronica was pregnant with twins, her cravings and demands had become unbearable.

She wasn’t always like this. When my dad dated her three years ago, she was sweet. But after marrying her last year, my house turned into a nightmare.

“That is out of the question!” my father’s voice suddenly boomed from the room.

I paused, frowning, when I heard Veronica’s hushed voice.

“Keep your voice down, or she’ll hear you.”

I barged into the room, my chest tight with fury. “Enough of this bullshit! What the hell is going on?”

My father scowled. “Language, Kiddo.”

“Dad, I’m not a child anymore. What is she pushing you into?” I demanded, glaring at Veronica.

Her lip curled. “You heard her, Elijah. She’s grown. It’s time she started taking responsibility.”

“I will not let you subject my daughter to this,” my father snarled.

I blinked, confused, trying to piece together what they meant. Then Veronica clutched her stomach dramatically and burst into tears.

“Your daughter? What about the twins in my belly? Outsiders, right? They deserve to starve, don’t they?” she wailed.

I rolled my eyes. Her fake sobs were as transparent as glass. “Oh please, no one’s falling for your theatrics.”

“Don’t speak to your stepmother like that, Aurora,” my father scolded.

I gasped, stunned, as he held her, whispering soothing words while she gave me a smug smile over his shoulder.

“Fuck this!” I cursed, storming out.

My chest ached with anger as I slammed the door behind me. Veronica had him wrapped around her finger, and he couldn’t even see it.

He claimed he hadn’t forgotten Mom, but today was her birthday and he hadn’t remembered.

Before Veronica, Dad and I always honored her by having a small picnic. It was just us, remembering her smile. Now he was in there, coddling someone else.

I brushed away tears, clutching the picnic basket I’d grabbed on my way out. If he wouldn’t keep the tradition, I would.

Mom died when I was ten. For eight years it was just me and Dad. Until Veronica came. And everything changed.

The streets were crowded and foul, filled with the hungry and the broken. Packs of werewolf guards prowled every corner, their glowing eyes scanning for trouble.

Up ahead, I spotted a commotion, some wolves snarling at a group of humans. I quickly ducked into a side alley. The last thing I wanted was to get caught between their claws.

But as I rounded the corner of an alleyway, a piercing scream tore through the air, followed by a heavy thud and then silence.

My breath caught when I saw a heavily tattooed man standing over a red-haired girl's limp body. His brown eyes flicked toward me.

“Shit,” he hissed.

I dropped my basket and bolted, feet pounding the cobblestones. Shouts and pounding footsteps followed me as I sprinted toward the main road.

My chest burned, my heart hammered. I could still see her pale face in my mind. I’d just stumbled into the den of the notorious traffickers known as The Red Hand.

But when I finally looked back, no one chased me. I slowed, panting, until I rounded the corner and saw home.

Except strangers stood waiting. They were with broad shoulders, claws unsheathed, their eyes glowing an unnatural blue.

My father was there with Veronica, his face pale and stricken. He looked at me with a guilt that made my stomach drop.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” he whispered.

My throat tightened as I took a step back. I knew those men. They were enforcers, the wolves who took tributes for their Alpha.

And then it clicked. The argument. Veronica’s tears. The suitcase on the porch.

For months, families who couldn’t survive had been trading away their daughters to the wolves in exchange for food and coins.

And now… I was the trade.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as tears blurred my vision. “No, Dad. You wouldn’t…”

I turned to run, but pain slammed into my body like fire. My limbs went weak, collapsing under me.

The last thing I saw were those glowing, electric-blue eyes hovering over me as darkness swallowed me whole.