The Alphas Sex Slave

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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Footsteps approached me where I was tied. The chain hanging on my neck was tugged and I struggled to catch my breath.

"Stand up!" A heavy voice dictated and I did as I was told, the cold ground sending a chill through my bare feet.

Still walking, the surroundings kept getting louder.

Rough laughter.

Skunk smell of cigarettes.

Murmurs of men.

There were lots of them bidding on something. After what felt like an eternity,

the rough hands of one of the guards shoved me forward, and I stumbled, falling hard onto a raised platform. Pain shot through my knees as I landed, and a chorus of jeers and laughter erupted from the crowd.

"Two thousand for this little slut!" one man shouted, his voice filled with sick amusement.

The rest cheered at it, and my heart skipped as hands traced my bare skin.

It was dark. I couldn't see since I'd been blindfolded but the grimy hands almost crawling into my pants made me jump in fear.

My cuffed hands were powerless behind my back, my clothes stripped away. I couldn't do anything in defense, only to sob and sob till my eyes pleaded for mercy.

I am such a failure.

My life itself is so useless and worthless.

Mum died in the pool of her cold blood when the BloodyNoon pack invaded our pack. Since then, everything changed.

My father changed, the dynamics in the pack changed, the scent of the food changed— I changed.

I went from being the apple of my father's eyes to someone he could barely stand. He exchanged me for money and whatever suits his whim on the request of his new wife. For six long years, I’d been nothing but a slave, subjected to back-breaking labor that no Omega could hope to endure.

I was made to do jobs meant for four to five people to accomplish, most times on an empty stomach. The Goddess knew the kinds of beatings I'd received if I flopped at any task.

At first, I put up resistance but slowly I gave up. Escaping from here was impossible with the tight security in place. I had to get used to the bitter life and try to survive each day.

Last week, I had turned eighteen and shifted to my wolf for the first time in chains, with no one to walk me through the unbelievable pain, no one to cheer me as they did for the others.

But what else could be worse than being auctioned to s*x monsters?

"Not so fast, gentlemen," I heard a voice call out. The announcer, I guessed, stepping in before things got completely out of control. A whip cracked against the hands of the men touching me, causing them to retreat with laughter.

The announcer moved closer, his cane tracing my skin. His voice was smooth, dripping with malice. "Long hair, rosy cheeks, cherry lips," he mused, tapping his cane under my chin and then lifting it under my breasts. I winced, feeling utterly violated. "This is a fresh one. You won't find many like her. Even 100k wouldn't be enough for such beauty."

The crowd laughed, mocking the man who had placed the earlier bid. Before the announcer could say anything else, a voice shook everyone.

"1 million."

The place grew silent. I couldn't believe it. 1 million dena? To buy me??

Even the announcer was shocked for a while.

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