Page 4 of Ruthless Alpha
“I was asking her.”
The girl trembled under my gaze, her deep blue eyes flitting between me and her—was he her father? God, I hoped not.
“I—I’m twenty-one,” she stammered. It was clearly a lie—but why did I care, anyway? It didn’t matter how old she was, because I wasn’t buying her to keep for myself. I was buying her to stop someone more unscrupulous from doing the same.
“Sure,” I said, pretending to believe her. “And you’re unmated?”
She nodded. No hesitation this time. Probably the truth.
“I’ve got a hundred pounds,” I told the trader. It was everything I had, but I wanted this over. I needed to get her out of here.
“Nothing more?” he prompted, and I felt a growl start to build in my chest.
“I’ve got what I’ve got. You can take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it,” he agreed immediately. He was such a coward—I knew that humans had been paying tens of thousands of dollars for the brides that Arbor had offered in the past. A few pounds of steel was nothing in comparison, but he’d accept whatever I offered because he was desperate and because my reputation preceded me.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” I lied. “You can take the wagon, too.”
I reached forward, circling the girl’s wrist with my hand. Her skin was cold, and I realized she wasn’t only shivering from fear, but from the chill fall wind. The dress she was wearing was clearly designed to entice potential buyers rather than keep her warm: the deep scoop neck of it put her generous breasts on full display, as well as leaving her chest and neck exposed to the elements. No wonder she was cold.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” interrupted the trader, “but I can’t let her go without the ceremony.”
“The ceremony?” I echoed, confused.
“We don’t sell whores and slaves, Alpha. We sell brides.”
I didn’t see much of a difference. The trader clearly didn’t consider there to be much of one either, because he winked at me as he pushed the girl closer, coming to stand between us as if his words held any power. I remembered what Ethan had told me about the ceremonies at the auction: they meant nothing, but the Arbor girls were conditioned to believe it made them beholden to their buyers. It made them more pliable. I didn’tneed the girl to be pliable, but I’d do the damn ceremony if it meant I could get her away from him.
“Get on with it, then,” I snapped, and he nodded with faux benevolence.
“Do you take this woman to be your wedded wife?” he asked. “To keep her under your care and consider yourself bound to her?”
“I do,” I said. This was such a farce, yet those two words seemed like physical blows to the girl standing before me. No doubt she expected to be thrown over my shoulder the moment the deal was done, to be taken away and brutalized. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t yet disabuse her of that notion.
“Do you take this man to be your wedded husband?” the trader continued, turning to the terrified girl. “To be kept under his care and be obedient to him?”
To her credit, she didn’t trip over the words, and her voice trembled only a little. Terrified she might be, but she was brave, too.
“I do.”
The trader grinned, showing every one of his yellow-brown teeth.
“Then I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he said. “You may kiss your bride.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said quickly, trying not to look at the girl I had just purchased. Fuck. I’d justboughta person.
“Suit yourself,” the trader said, picking up the handles of the wagon with evident effort. Under any other circumstance, I would have found it amusing to watch him huff and puff as hedragged it south toward the Arbor bridge. Instead, I pushed him immediately from my mind.
My attention was entirely fixed on the girl before me; barely more than half my age, shivering with fear and cold, she was so beautiful it was hard to look away from her. She was my wife, and I didn’t even know her name.
Chapter 2 - Rosie
A hundred pounds of steel. That’s what I was worth to these males. I’d read fairytales when I was younger about kings being offered their daughter’s weight in gold, but I wasn’t in a fairytale. I was worth less than my weight in steel, and I wouldn’t be getting a happy ending.
That morning, I’d woken up ready for nothing more than another day of keeping house and trying to avoid my uncle’s moods. Instead, I’d been dragged out of bed, squeezed into a too-tight dress, and carted over to Telaxis because our Alpha had finally given my uncle permission to sell me off. Apparently, I was a drain on the family resources. I came from bad blood, and I was a curse on his home that he could no longer stand. In reality, I was the last thing he had left to barter for pipe tobacco and moonshine.
Xander Knox was not a prince, no matter how much my wolf insisted, her nose twitching to chase his woodsmoke and pepper scent. He might rule his Pack like one; he might be tall, strong, and handsome, but he hadn’t saved me from anything. He’d bought me like property, and he was taking me away from my home. Arbor might not be perfect—my life there might be far from it—but at least it was familiar. In Arbor, if I closed my eyes in the quiet, I could pretend I was a child again, that my parents were still alive, and that everything was okay. If I got my chores done quickly and my uncle was spending the evening in the mess hall getting drunk, I could disappear into the woods for an hour or two and listen to the scuffling and chittering of the animals who lived there.
