Taken by the Alpha: A Dead Mate’s Return

The first thing I felt was the cold. The damp chill of stone against my cheek, seeping into my bones. Then came the smell—rusted iron, sweat, and something sharp and coppery. Blood.

My head throbbed, my wrists ached, and when I tried to move, I realized why. Shackles. Heavy iron cuffs dug into my skin, chaining me to the wall.

“Get up!”

The growl came from somewhere in the shadows. A rough boot kicked my side, and I cried out as I was yanked to my feet by the chains.

My eyes darted around, trying to take in my surroundings. A cage. Bars, thick and rusted. Beyond them, glowing eyes stared back at me—yellow, red, unblinking. Werewolves.

“Where… where am I?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

The werewolf tilted his head slightly, like he was studying a bug under a glass. “You’re in The Pit, little bird. A nice little auction house for humans like you. You’re here to be sold.”

Sold? No. No, no, no.

“There’s been a mistake!” my voice rising in panic. “I’m not supposed to be here—I was just walking home!”

The memories came rushing back—walking down the quiet street, my school bag slung over one shoulder. I’d been so close to home, just a few blocks away. Then... someone had grabbed me from behind, an arm wrapping around my waist. I’d screamed, kicked, but they’d punched me hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs. After that... nothing.

The werewolf just chuckled, like my panic was entertaining.

Before I could beg or scream again, the heavy clang of metal filled the air.

“Lot number 42! Bring her out!”

Two more wolves appeared. They unlocked the cage door and lunged at me. I thrashed, kicked, screamed—but it didn’t matter. They were too strong. They dragged me out into a large, open space lit by flickering torches.

“No! Stop! Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing against their grip, but they didn’t care.

The corridor outside the cages was lined with others like me—humans, young and scared, clutching at the bars of their prisons. Some stared blankly, others cried softly. I couldn’t stop shaking.

When we reached the auction hall, I froze. It was massive—rows of wolves seated like an audience, a spotlight in the center where a raised platform waited. The scent of sweat, leather, and raw animal filled the air.

“Next lot!” a sharp voice echoed, and the wolves shoved me forward.

“No, please!” I tried to dig my heels into the ground, but one of them raised a whip. The sharp crack of leather sliced the air before it came down on my back.

Pain exploded across my skin, and I screamed.

“Move!”

Another lash. And another. My knees buckled, and I sobbed as they dragged me onto the platform, the whip still biting into me until I collapsed in the center, gasping for air.

The spotlight blazed down on me, blinding, hot, and cruel.

“Lot number 42!” the auctioneer announced. “Human female. Young. Healthy. Perfect for breeding or labor.”

The crowd erupted with low growls and murmurs. My body shook uncontrollably as I forced myself to look out into the sea of glowing eyes.

“Bidding starts at 50 thousand dollars!”

“Sixty!”

“Eighty!”

“One hundred!”

The numbers rose higher, but I couldn’t focus. My back burned, my face was wet with tears, and my throat felt raw from screaming.

Then his voice cut through the chaos—calm, commanding, and utterly final.

“Two hundred thousand.”

Silence.

I turned my head slowly toward the voice. He stood at the back of the hall, arms crossed, sharp eyes locked onto me. He didn’t blink, didn’t flinch—just stared, like he already owned me.

“Sold to Alpha Ronan!” the auctioneer barked, slamming down the gavel.

The wolves dragged me off the platform, my body limp and trembling. But as we neared him—panic overtook me.

No. I couldn’t let this happen.

With every ounce of strength I had left, I jerked free from one wolf’s grip and bolted. My bare feet slapped against the stone floor as I ran, my lungs burning with every gasp of air.

“Get her!”

I didn’t make it far. A strong hand grabbed my hair, yanking me backward with so much force I thought my neck might snap. I crashed onto the floor, pain radiating through my back and elbows.

Before I could react, Ronan loomed over me. His cold silver eyes locked onto mine as he crouched down, his gloved hand wrapping around my throat.

“Running was a mistake, little one,” he said calmly, his grip tightening.

“Let me go!” I choked out, clawing at his wrist. My voice was hoarse, desperate. “Please…”

He stood, pulling me up by my arm with terrifying strength. Without thinking, I swung my free hand and slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed through the hall, and the world seemed to freeze.

Ronan’s head turned slightly with the impact, but he didn’t flinch. Slowly, he looked back at me, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with something sharp and dangerous.

And then he slapped me back.

The force of it whipped my head to the side, and I staggered, falling to my knees. Blood dripped from my nose and smeared across my lips as I gasped, my head spinning.

The room was silent.

“Get up,” he said quietly.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. My entire body shook as warm blood dripped down my chin.

He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet again, his grip bruising.