Page 17 of Sold to the Alpha Wolf

I looked around the room. It was clearly Jet’s bedroom, and there were several telling items scattered about. But first, I went to the curtains and drew them back, letting in the natural light. Sun washed over me, and I stilled a bit.

I’d been kept in dark, dank chambers for too long. If I could taste this bit of sunlight on my skin before dealing with whatever was coming next, I might be able to face it slightly better.

“Huh, pretty.”

The windows revealed a frankly great view of the large plot of forest around the massive house. Jet’s room overlooked the opposite end of the property from the front door. Winter white blanketed the large, open yard before the wood’s tree line dotted the landscape with imposing pines.

As I turned to inspect the space with better light, I couldn’t stop myself from being distracted by the ease in my chest. I’d never known what it felt like to be fully claimed by a pack. It was…way too fucking nice. Fury that I could do absolutely nothing about built in my veins as the fact that Terrance could have done this at any time haunted me.

“Stupid fucking bastard. None of us.”

I shook my head, slumping onto the plush bed. None of the Collins pack understood this feeling. Most of them seemed okay with it, and maybe there were some who were fully claimed. But certainly not the omegas. Not the lowest of us.

Certainly not me.

Absently stroking my hand across the smooth covers, I looked down at the bed again. The deep gray blanket and sheets were extremely neutral, lived-in swaths of fabric that draped across the massive bed.

My eyes followed the line up to a dark wood bedpost. Beyond that, up to the ceiling, similarly colored beams ran across the top of the room, and lighter sheets of wood filled up the spaces between them. With muted, gray-white plaster walls, the ceiling grounded the room in the airy expanse.

“It looks like his style,” I remarked to absolutely no one.

Still, it was true. I could see and smell Jet in everything around me. The leather and pine of his natural scent clung to the soft bedding, unwittingly calming my frayed nerves. I didn’t want to be soothed or pacified, and still, I couldn’t stop the natural release of tension from my shoulders as I breathed this place in.

An intricate, deep copper chandelier hung from the ceiling where I counted the number of beams running across it. There was nothing better to do, after all. The bulbs were off, though, so I got up and looked for a switch. Near the exit door—which was, of course, locked—was the switch plate, dressed in a matching deep copper color.

Turning on the fixture above the bed, more light illuminated the space. The floor was apparently made of the same material as the ceiling but arranged in Vs across the room. I roamed over the space with my eyes, trying to find something I could hate.

But it was all so beautiful.

The window spanned the entire wall at the rear of the room, and it felt like I could step out into the forest and run. Wind howled around the house, a comforting wail of nature. More artwork was also hung on the walls in here, paintings and watercolors of the woods—of wolves—and I just knew that these were done by members of the pack. I could sense it.

When I paid more attention to the right-hand wall from the door, I allowed myself to feel appreciation for the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Dozens of books lined each shelf—old and worn and frequently read.

I walked over, dragging my fingers across the leather spines. I could understand why Jet’s scent matched the tomes. They were so alike, bound up bits of knowledge only gained by those willing to put in the work. Because I could also sense just how closed-off Jet was, that little bit of our pack connection whispering it to me.

It’s not just that, and you know it. It’s the mate bond; it’s trying to fully establish itself.

Moving away from the shelves and not willing to sit on that damn bed again to drown in Jet’s scent, I sat on the floor in the center of the room.

Even the rug here was soft, and I silently cursed him and his fucking pack. My pack.

How the fuck am I supposed to live here? I can’t just walk around the alpha who fucking rejected me. Why did he accept this damn trade?

Jet knew well enough that I didn’t have a wolf. He’d seen it that night. Why on earth would he accept a wolfless shifter as a breeding omega? He couldn’t possibly be okay with potentially birthing more shifters without wolves. Was he just delaying killing me? But then why take so long? Why claim me as a member of his pack?

My mind spun and spun like a damn top, and just like a top, I tipped right over. Letting myself fall to my side, I curled up into a ball, bringing my knees to my chest. I was exhausted and cold and hungry. I’d never once had a good meal in my life, and the slops I’d been given this morning were very much gone.

If Jet didn’t come back and feed me soon, I was going to pound on that door until someone gave me something to eat. Undignified, to be sure, but I wasn’t above demanding or even begging for food if it meant I got it. I had to do worse back with Terrance.

At times like this, I’d search for the hidden stash of human food I kept under the small mat that was my bed. I’d chow down and then hide the evidence. And if I was cold, I’d go to the old steam house at the edge of the property that no one used and set a fire in the old pit.

I couldn’t do that now.

Tilting my head up, I noticed the other door in the room. No doubt it was a bathroom. I wonder if he has a bathtub?

Getting up, I took off the stiff boots I still wore, kicking them beneath the foot of the bed. I padded to the other door, and sure enough, it was a bathroom—and there was indeed a tub.

A big one.

---