After Six Alphas Called Me Cheap, I Took Their Pack

"Hello?" I shouted. The foyer of Blackwood Manor swallowed the word instantly.

The estate had no heartbeat. That was the first thing I noticed. The silence pressed down on my eardrums like deep water.

The second thing I noticed was the dead guy on the sofa.

I dropped my suitcase by the front door. "Hey. Did you hear me?"

He didn't twitch. He lay flat on the dark leather, his arms draped over his stomach. His skin carried a healthy, warm tan, but his chest remained entirely still. Not a single rise. Not a single fall.

"Hey," I repeated, stepping closer. "Are you breathing?"

No response.

I leaned over the edge of the sofa. Extended my right hand. Hovered two fingers an inch from his nose to check for air.

His fingers snapped around my wrist.

I gasped.

His eyelids flew open. I stared into eyes that didn't belong in a human skull. Bright gold. Vertical, slit pupils. The eyes of a predator waking up to find prey hovering over its mouth.

"Caught you," he whispered.

Before I could yank my arm back, he twisted his grip. The world spun. I crashed onto the leather cushions, and his weight slammed down on top of me. His heavy knee dug sharply into my hip bone, locking my lower body in place.

"Get the hell off me!" I yelled, shoving at his shoulders.

He didn't even flinch. He lowered his head, burying his nose into the curve of my neck. He inhaled loudly, a rough, scraping drag of air that vibrated against my skin.

"Vanilla and rain," he grumbled, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "Fuck, you're the one."

His jaw opened. Sharp teeth clamped down on my collarbone. A searing heat pierced my skin.

Instead of screaming, a bizarre, hysterical laugh bubbled out of my mouth. A completely wrong reaction. My brain short-circuited under the pain.

"She smells like debt, nothing more."

The voice drifted down from the staircase. It sounded like ice fracturing under heavy boots.

I twisted my head. A guy in a black sweater descended the steps. Kade. His whiskey-colored eyes evaluated the scene with absolute boredom while his fingers expertly flipped a silver letter opener.

"Get up, Jax," Kade ordered. "Don't embarrass us."

Jax emitted a pathetic, high-pitched whine, sounding exactly like a scolded dog. He rolled off the sofa, landing on his feet, but his golden gaze remained fixated on the burning bite mark he just left on my flesh.

"He bit me," I stated, pushing myself into a sitting position and wiping a smear of saliva from my neck.

"Consider it a greeting," Kade replied, reaching the bottom step. "You're Ava Sinclair."

"And you're the people my father owed."

"We are." Kade pointed the letter opener at my chest. "Stand up."

I got to my feet, keeping the leather sofa between Jax and myself. "Where is the person in charge?"

"You're looking at him," Kade said.

A shadow detached itself from the massive unlit fireplace to my left. "Actually, you're looking at all of us."

I spun around. Griffin stepped into the dim light. His steel-gray eyes locked onto mine. He wore crisp white gloves and carried a disassembled shotgun holstered at his waist.

Griffin extended a wooden clipboard toward me.

"Forty-seven clauses," Griffin said, his tone perfectly flat. "Blood signature required."

I stared at the thick stack of paper. "What exactly am I signing?"

"Pack Law blood contract." Griffin tapped a silver needle taped to the board. "You break it, the violation doesn't fall on us. The Council executes the penalty. And they aren't as polite as I am."

"Polite?" I scoffed, pointing a thumb at Jax. "Your friend just took a chunk out of my neck."

"Jax lacks manners," Griffin noted. "Sign the paper, Ava."

"Pack Law?" I asked, gripping the edges of the clipboard. "What does that even mean? Are you a gang?"

Jax let out a low rumble from his chest. "We're a pack, sweetheart."

"Shut up, Jax," Kade snapped. He turned his whiskey eyes back to me. "It means we operate outside the laws you're used to. Your father understood that perfectly when he borrowed from us."

"He borrowed money," I argued. "Not me."

"He pledged his bloodline as collateral," Griffin corrected, adjusting his white gloves. "You are his bloodline. The debt transfers. Clause seven on page two."

I flipped the pages. "Are you expecting me to read all of this right now?"

"I expect you to sign it," Griffin said. "The details are simple. You live here. You do not leave the grounds. You remain our collateral until the debt is settled."

"And how exactly does a debt like this get settled?"

Kade stopped flipping the letter opener. He pointed the blade at my chest again. "That's for us to decide. Right now, you just need to bleed on the dotted line."

"If I sign this, what stops him from attacking me again?" I gestured toward Jax, who was currently licking his lips.

"The contract protects you from unsanctioned harm," Griffin explained. "We cannot kill you. We cannot break you beyond repair. You are property, Ava. We take care of our property."

"Property." The word tasted like ash in my mouth. "I'm a human being."

"Not anymore," Kade said softly. "Now, you're currency. Sign it."

"What if I refuse?" I challenged.

"Your father is dead," Kade interjected, stepping closer. The silver blade flashed in his hand. "He left a massive blood debt. Refusal means the Council hunts you tonight. Signing means you survive until tomorrow."

"My father ruined my life," I muttered, snatching the clipboard from Griffin's gloved hands. "Now his ghost gets to finish the job."

"Family is a burden," Kade agreed. "Do it."

I unhooked the silver needle. "Just a prick on the finger?"

"Index finger. Press it to the line," Griffin instructed.

I jammed the sharp metal tip into my skin. A dark ruby drop welled up immediately. I pressed my bleeding finger against the dotted line on the parchment. The paper seemed to absorb the blood, turning the red mark black.

Griffin retrieved the clipboard. "Welcome to Blackwood Manor."

"Where is my room?" I demanded.

"Top floor. End of the hall," Kade answered. "Don't wander."

***

The bedroom door locked from the outside. I had checked the iron handle three times just to be sure.

Thick iron bars were welded across the window frames. I rattled them. Solid metal. No give. They were meant to keep me inside, or maybe to keep something else outside.

I retreated to the edge of the bare mattress. My fingers instinctively went to my neck, pressing against the hot, swollen teeth marks. The bite throbbed in time with my pulse. It wasn't just a bruise. It felt like a brand.

I pulled a small notebook and a pen from my jacket pocket. My father always told me to write things down when I felt overwhelmed. Ironically, he was the reason I was locked in a monster's house.

I clicked the pen. I needed rules. I needed a schedule.

*Survival Calendar.*

I wrote the heading in bold letters.

*Monday: Hide from Jax.*

The guy was clearly unhinged. The way he smelled me, the way his eyes looked... he wasn't normal. None of them were.

*Tuesday: Avoid everyone.*

Kade's cold stares and Griffin's clinical detachment were just as dangerous as Jax's aggression.

*Wednesday: Survive.*

Just make it through the middle of the week.

*Thursday: Plan escape.*

I needed to map the exits. Figure out their routines. Find a blind spot in their security.

*Friday: Buy a neck guard.*

I tapped the sore skin on my collarbone. Definitely a priority.

Before I could write down Saturday, a sound scraped through the silence.

*Scritch.*

I froze. My pen hovered above the paper.

*Scritch. Scraaaatch.*

Nails dragging slowly down the wooden boards of my door.

"Who is out there?" I called out.

No verbal answer. Just the heavy, rhythmic sound of exhales pushing through the gap under the door.

I slipped off the bed. My bare feet made no noise against the floorboards as I tiptoed toward the entrance. I knelt down, leaning my face close to the narrow crack between the heavy door and the frame.

A single golden beast eye stared back at me.

Vertical pupil. Completely unblinking.

He wasn't trying to break in. He was just quietly watching me.