All Chapters of SOLD TO THE BRUTAL ALPHA LORD OF BRIDGEVINE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lydia I had avoided him for six days. Six long, aching days of hiding in the east wing suite Magnus had assigned me, pretending to be sick, anything to escape the Alpha who had bought me. My uncle’s greedy hands had shoved me into Magnus' office after selling me for a huge piece of land to recover from his gambling losses, and now I belonged to him—body, heat, and all. Two omega maids, Kiekie and Betty, had been put in charge of my care, bringing me meals and drawing baths while guards stood outside my door at Magnus’s orders. I was no servant, yet I felt like one because he had purchased me solely for his pleasure. I told myself I hated him. I repeated it every night while my cunt throbbed and leaked slick down my thighs. I hated the way my body betrayed me, the way my omega instincts screamed for the cruel lord who had taken my virginity on his office desk and left me ruined.After all the running, I still ended back in that same office where he had eaten me out and taken my virgin

LydiaI woke slowly, as though I had been dragged back from the bottom of a deep, warm sea. For several heartbeats, I did not know where I was, and then the familiar scent of cedar, musk, and something distinctly Magnus settled over me. My eyes opened to the pale curtains of my bedroom, and memory came rushing back so violently that I squeezed them shut again. Six days, I thought, and my cheeks burned with a shame I could not explain.Six days had disappeared inside that room, swallowed by heat, instinct, exhaustion, and the man I had spent so much time convincing myself I hated. I remembered almost everything except the moments when fever and fatigue had blurred the edges of my thoughts. I remembered Magnus's voice, rough and commanding, but I also remembered the moments when it had softened when I could barely speak. I remembered his hands, his strength, the way he had held me when my body had become too exhausted to carry itself, and remembering that was somehow worse than remember

Lydia By the time the sun climbed above the eastern roofs, I had made up my mind that I could no longer remain inside the mansion like a prisoner waiting for permission to breathe. Magnus had spent the previous day reminding me that he was my master, and I had spent the night remembering every reason I despised him. The memory of his hands still haunted me, which only made my anger burn hotter, because I hated that my body could remember tenderness from a man whose heart seemed carved from stone. I needed fresh air, distance, and perhaps one afternoon in which I could forget that Lord Magnus Bridgevine existed.Kiekie found me near the front staircase with a simple cloak around my shoulders and a determined expression on my face. She stopped halfway down the corridor when she saw me and immediately guessed what I intended to do, because she had become good at reading the thoughts I tried to hide. “Where are you going, my lady?” she asked, and I tied the cloak more firmly beneath my c

Lydia The door slammed behind me so hard that the sound seemed to shake the entire corridor. I stumbled when the guards released me, catching myself against the rough stone wall before I could fall, and for several seconds I simply stood there, breathing through the ache in my chest. The maid prison smelled of damp earth, old straw, and iron, nothing like the polished rooms I had grown accustomed to inside Magnus's mansion. Perhaps that was the point; he wanted me to remember exactly what I was, and after everything I had shouted at him, I wondered whether I deserved anything better.I hated myself for thinking that. I had spent years being told that I was worth less than everyone around me, and somehow Magnus had made those old wounds feel fresh again. Yet the cruelest part was that I could not erase the memory of him being gentle when I was helpless. My mind kept dragging me back to those six days, to the moments when my heat had clouded every thought and left me unable to care for

Magnus The heavy iron key turned in the lock with a definitive, metallic click, but for the first time, the sound didn't bring me a sense of triumph. It felt like a condemnation. As I pushed the door open, the hinges groaning under the weight of my presence, I stepped into the dim light of Lydia’s chambers. She was no longer in the cold, damp confines of the maid quarters—I had moved her back to her own room hours ago—but the ghost of those two days still clung to her.My eyes immediately found her. She looked fragile, huddled on the edge of the oversized bed, her pale skin contrasting sharply with the dark linens. The scent of her distress—that sweet, cloying Omega musk laced with the sharp tang of fear and exhaustion—hit me like a physical blow. It stirred the Alpha in my blood, but it also twisted something deep in my chest, a feeling I refused to name.I watched her flinch as I approached, her wide eyes tracking my every movement. A wave of guilt, cold and suffocating, washed ove