His Adopted Daughter, His Student, Their Lover

"This piece of goods," a lewd laugh drifted from outside the window, "are you sure she's worth the price?"

I jolted awake, my body not yet responsive, but the voice was already ringing in my ears.

"The price is negotiable."

Belinda's voice, my stepmother using that syrupy sweet tone she employed when selling anything—fabric, favors, and apparently, daughters.

"As long as the money is right, you can take Carol home tonight."

My heart sank, and my fingers began to tremble, clutching the thin blanket to my chest even though the room wasn't cold.

I strained to hear the conversation in the hallway outside my door, while my brain desperately tried to deny what I'd just heard.

This couldn't be real.

This couldn't be happening to me.

But deep down, I knew it was.

Ever since Father died three months ago, his protection had vanished with him.

I'd sensed something was coming, but I never imagined it would be this soon.

The footsteps outside drew closer, each one landing like a blow to my heart.

My body went rigid, every muscle tensing as I waited for the inevitable verdict.

The doorknob turned with excruciating slowness.

The door swung open.

Belinda stood in the doorway. Behind her, slightly to the left, was my sister Seraphina, wearing that expression I'd seen countless times—a smile of triumph and contempt that told me she knew exactly what was about to happen and was enjoying every second of it.

"What's... happening?" I tried to keep my voice calm, but it came out hoarse.

Seraphina laughed, the sound raising goosebumps on my arms.

"What's happening?" she repeated. "Mother is finally doing what she should have done years ago."

"She's selling you. Isn't it obvious?" She stepped into the room, each movement carrying the bearing of a victor. "You didn't think you could stay here forever, did you? Eating our food, taking up space, pretending to be something you're not?"

"Pretending?" The word stung.

"Wolf," Seraphina almost spat the word with disgust. "You're not one of us, Carol. You never were. No matter how much Father pretended, no matter how he doted on you."

"You're just a defective human," Belinda added, moving closer to the bed. "Just like your cheap mother. At least she had the decency to die early and stop wasting resources. But you?" She shook her head, her lips twisting with disgust. "Do you know how embarrassing it is? How many times I've had to explain to other pack families why Osmon Valodin's daughter is still just... human?"

Human.

In the wolf world, the word meant mediocrity, incompetence—the worst thing to be.

My throat tightened, my ears ringing.

"Since you'll never awaken your wolf spirit in this lifetime," Seraphina added mockingly, "you might as well go to that casino and learn how to properly service men. That place has no use for dignity. I'm sure you'll adapt beautifully."

Her words were designed to wound, and they did.

My nails dug into my flesh, but I felt no pain.

They thought they'd broken me, thought I would just accept this fate, let them do whatever they wanted.

I wouldn't.

Through the open door, Var entered with his men, all Gamma wolves.

Var stood at the bottom of the staircase, counting money, the bills rustling between his thick fingers. He looked up and nodded at Belinda. "First half, as agreed. You'll get the rest after I confirm the goods are... satisfactory."

Belinda laughed loudly. "Oh, she'll satisfy you. No wolf, but pretty enough. And some men prefer them helpless anyway."

My stomach churned.

I couldn't let them take me to that casino.

I'd rather die.

The thought crystallized, clear and resolute.

While Belinda turned to speak with Seraphina.

While Var's attention was on the money.

While the two Gamma wolves guarded the door but weren't watching me—I moved.

Years of being the weakest in the family had taught me how to move quietly—how to exist without drawing attention, how to survive like a shadow.

I slipped off the bed, bare feet silent on the wooden floor.

My bedroom window faced the back of the house, overlooking the garden and the woods beyond.

I'd climbed out a hundred times before—sometimes to escape Seraphina's torment, sometimes just to breathe air that wasn't thick with contempt.

"Carol, where do you think you're—" Seraphina's voice sharpened with alarm.

I didn't wait to hear the rest.

I was already at the window, my fingers fumbling with the latch.

It was stuck—it was always stuck, the wood warped from years of rain and neglect, but I'd learned the trick long ago.

Push left, lift up, pull hard.

The window opened.

"Stop her!" Belinda shrieked.

I was already climbing out.

My legs swung over the sill just as heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.

The drop to the ground was about twelve feet—nothing for a wolf, potentially bone-breaking for a human.

But I'd made this jump before, knew how to land, how to roll with the impact.

I hit the garden dirt hard, pain shooting from my ankles to my calves.

For a moment I thought I'd twisted something, but then I was rolling to my feet and running.

Run. Don't stop. Don't look back.

The woods loomed ahead, freedom waiting there for me.

If I could just reach the tree line, maybe there was a chance.

The forest was dense enough to slow the wolves, and I knew paths they didn't—trails discovered during years of solitary exploration.

"After her! Don't let her reach the trees!" Var's voice roared behind me.

My lungs felt like they were about to burst, but my legs ran faster.

Twenty feet to the woods.

Fifteen feet. Ten.

Almost there.

Then I tripped.

My foot caught on a tree root—or a rock, or just air, I didn't know and didn't care.

I fell hard, palms scraping on rough ground, chin barely missing a stone that would have split it open.

My palms and knees were scraped raw, pain flooding in.

Get up, get up, get up—

The woods were right there. Just a few more steps.

I didn't make it.

One moment I was running desperately, the next I was slammed to the ground, a huge shadow pinning me down.