King of the Alphas

POV Maya:

The dress was so tight that I could barely breathe. The red fabric clung to my cleavage and constricted around my chest before embracing my hips. The long slit from the top of my thigh was the only reason I could walk, but I could never sit without my dress riding up. 

That's precisely how my father wanted it. He only expected me to sit down if I was perched on someone's thighs. 

To be more specific, the thighs of Alpha Larson Peterman, from the Chalmer Basin Pack. 

That night, I would finally escape my father's control and belong to someone else. I knew nothing about him; I only hoped he was kinder than my father. As far as I was concerned, everyone had to be kinder than Bruce Callahan. 

"Smile," Bruce growled in a whisper as his hand gripped my arm, "or Peterman won't see you as friendly." 

Immediately, I forced a smile. There was no way to refuse my father. He would spill blood in front of everyone, even in front of my suitor, without a second thought—and everyone would praise him for it. 

The grand ballroom was a sea of glitz and glamour. I had never seen anything like it in my life, but I didn't have the chance to appreciate it. All eyes turned to me as the crowd parted. Women smiled at me, likely because my slender dress stood out among the greens, blues, and purples. Most of the women were adorned with feathers and tulle, and nothing was as revealing as the red lace I wore. My father had not even allowed me to wear a bra or nude panties beneath my dress. 

One wrong move and the carefully placed lace would slip off, turning this ball into an adults-only affair.

We paused for a moment, and my father leaned in close to my ear. "If you mess this one up, Maya, you already know what awaits you when you get home." Incarceration, which I was already accustomed to. The beatings, too. Still, I understood how much worse it could get. I had witnessed my father and his men use hot stones and silver needles. I had seen him torture a wolf in human form to the brink of death, allowing it to transform to heal itself, only to do it all over again. 

When I looked at my father, I saw a monster. When anyone else looked at him, they saw a god. 

He cleared his throat and patted a man on the shoulder. When the man turned around, I exhaled slowly. Larson was a handsome young man, perhaps a few years older than me. That was a small relief. Or maybe I would have preferred him to be much closer to death: less time on the sentence. 

"Alpha Callahan," Larson greeted him before his gaze fell on me. First came surprise, then the unmistakable desire. "Is this your daughter?" 

"Indeed. Maya Callahan, my shining jewel." 

I nearly retched at the sound of the false pride in his voice. Instead, I lowered my head and bowed as much as I could without tearing the fabric of my dress. 

"I am sure you will find an excellent companion in her." 

That was why we were all there: for Larson to choose his wife, and from what my father had told me, there weren't many women for him to select from. At least, none with my pedigree, as he liked to say. 

He was not referring to my mother's pedigree. According to him, she was nothing more than a slut who hitchhiked on the side of the road. But he came from a long line of alphas, practically royalty. 

"You have your mother's face and body. Larson won't be able to refuse."

From the way Larson was looking at me, my father was right. My father's phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. "I'm afraid I need to leave. You'll take care of her during the night and bring her back to me in the morning, right, Larson?" He winked and finally released me as he walked away. As always, I felt the tension dissipate from my body as my father left. A monster had vanished. Now it was time to see what kind of wolf I would be marrying. "A dance?" Larson asked, extending his hand. "Of course." With my heart racing, I accepted his offer, and he pulled me into an open space, drawing me close to his body. Unaccustomed to a man's touch, I froze. His hand slid down my back and rested on my ass as he grumbled. Remembering my father's words, I forced a smile. There were things I was supposed to say to Larson, but my mind went blank. Larson noticed. "You're not much of a talker. I like that," he muttered. "You're a mystery, Maya. Everyone knows that Bruce has a daughter. He talks about you all the time, but no one has ever seen you. Now I understand why. He must keep you under lock and key, though I know you sneak out the window from time to time. I like a rebellious spirit." Wait, what? How did he know about my window? My father certainly didn't know. If he found out, I'd be locked in the basement for sure. "I'm obedient," I whispered. "I will be obedient to you."

"Yes, I also heard that you have a very obedient wolf. I like that too." His hand squeezed my ass. "This dress you're wearing is quite interesting. What do you think about going to a more private place so I can see you better?" That was it. It was the moment I'd been waiting for, to let Larson take a good look at the merchandise, as my father often says. But I couldn't. My chest was tight, and it was becoming even harder to breathe. The room was starting to spin.

Instead of allowing him to guide me through the crowd, I attempted to pull away, but his hand tightened around my wrist. "What do you think you're doing, little hat?"

"I just... I need some air." 

"What's wrong? Worried about your lover?"

"My... what?" Surely, I had misheard him. 

"Your horde of lovers?" His voice escalated, and his smile turned icy. "I know everything about you, Maya Callahan. I know what you've been doing at night, and I know what your father wants." 

At night? I merely sat on the roof, trying to pretend I was free while the moon bathed me in its light. 

"My father... he wants us to get married..." I whispered, my mind racing. The situation was nothing like I had envisioned or planned. Part of me hoped Larson would be my hero, perhaps even a true companion, someone who would love me and see me as an equal. Another part of me, more pragmatic, simply wished he would satisfy me at night and ignore me during the day, allowing me to wander and experience some freedom. But this? I had no idea where this was headed, but it certainly didn’t seem promising. "I'm not sure..." 

"You're disgusting," Larson growled as he suddenly shoved me. I fell painfully to the ground, my dress tearing. The cold air brushed against my chest, and I wrapped one arm around myself, desperately trying to pull the fabric over my body. The people around us laughed, and a woman I recognized approached Larson, linking her arm with his. "He dresses you well because he knows you're a bitch. Most wolves indeed think with their sticks, but I'm searching for a queen. I can take a slut to bed anytime, but marry one? I don't think so. No one will ever want you, Maya. Certainly not someone like me." 

I couldn't tear my gaze away from my cousin. We had met a few times, but she always pretended to be my friend. Now, she stood beside him, watching me with a cold expression.

"You can crawl back to your house and tell your father that I chose my wife. I, Larson Peterman, Alpha of the Chalmer Basin Pack, reject you, Maya Callahan," he said with a cold smile as he turned away. "I choose a woman of true substance and a strong wolf: Selena Devereux."

Applause and laughter erupted as I struggled to rise from the ground. Clutching my dress as tightly as I could, I fled the ballroom. Tears blurred my vision, and my heels broke before I could escape the hotel. Everywhere I turned, people were whispering, pointing, and laughing. That was supposed to be the night I finally found my freedom, yet I became the target of ridicule. What about my father? My father would kill me.

Moaning, I dashed toward the gardens behind the hotel. Suddenly, a scream pierced the air, and before I knew it, I stumbled, fell, and rolled. Above me, a group of men growled and approached. "What do we have here? Entertainment? It's already half ready for us," one of them grunted. His hands reached for me, and I tried to pull away.

"It was about time these dances got more interesting. I can't wait to feel her mouth around my cock." I heard a zipper and kicked at it with my foot. He struck someone, but the person just laughed. More hands grabbed me and shoved me to the ground. This couldn't be happening. "Stop," I shouted. "No, stop!"

"Enough is enough," commanded a voice. Instantly, I was released, and the circle around me widened as the men retreated. Everyone lowered their heads and averted their gazes. Some murmured apologies under their breath. "Leave us," the man said calmly, extending his hand downward. When he pulled me up, my dress began to slip, and I gasped, quickly tugging it back into place.

The most imposing man I had ever seen stared at me. His eyes were so dark they seemed nearly black, and a scar ran down his right eyebrow. There was no warmth in his expression. With tears streaming down my face, I adjusted my dress and looked around.

There was a group of men standing stiffly behind me, but all the others had vanished. Was this man rescuing me? Or did he merely want me for himself? Trembling, I finally looked up at him. 

Relentlessly. No compassion. He examined me as if he were wearing a mask. 

"Elliot," he growled, not breaking his gaze from mine. "Bring the car here." Oh, my God, what on earth was happening? 

"You come with me."