Sold to the Cruel Alpha

A betrayal

 I was on the floor, my body throbbing, and tears streamed down my cheeks. My blue eyes burned, and I could feel the bruises forming on my arms and cheeks, reminders of how quickly everything had turned dark. I couldn't believe this was happening. I had thought I was going to be a bride, but here I was, broken and scared. 

 Alpha, Alpha Micky sat on the sofa across the room, a drink in his hand. He looked too relaxed for someone who had just thrown me to the ground. I glanced up at him, my heart racing, and found him staring back at me with a smirk. The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. 

 "Look at you," he said, his voice casual and mocking. "Crying like a child. It's almost pathetic." He swirled the drink in his glass, clearly enjoying my misery. 

 I hated how weak I felt. I turned my head away, trying to blink back tears, but they kept flowing. I couldn't understand how this was my life now. I wanted to ask him why he was doing this to me, but the words wouldn't come out. 

 "Is it hitting you yet?" he continued, leaning forward slightly. "You thought you were going to be a bride, didn't you?" 

 I shut my eyes tight, trying to block out the reality of his words. It was too much to process. I had always dreamed of love and happiness, of being cherished. But instead, I was standing here, realizing I was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game. 

 "I bought you as a bride," he said, his tone almost cheerful. "But not for what you think." 

 I opened my eyes, dread pooling in my stomach. The truth hit me like a punch. "You're not going to be my bride," he said, a cruel smile on his face. "You're just a toy to me, a plaything. Your family sold you to me. Isn't that sweet?" 

 His laughter echoed in the room, and I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling utterly defeated. Each word he spoke cut deeper, tearing at my heart. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but all I could do was tremble in fear. 

 "Please, stop," I managed to say, my voice shaking. "We don't know each other. Why are you doing this?" 

 He leaned back in his seat, looking at me like I was something he had stepped in. "Shut it, Noelle. I can't stand hearing you cry." 

 With that, he threw his drink against the floor, shattering the glass into a million pieces. My heart raced at the sudden violence. He stood up and swept a few books off the shelf, sending them crashing to the ground as well. The noise echoed in my ears, amplifying the chaos inside my head. 

 "Clean it up," he ordered, his voice cold. "And then you can wait for me to come back before you leave. I expect you to be ready." 

 I felt small as he towered over me, his presence suffocating. "Please…" I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur. "

 He pushed past me, barely acknowledging my presence as he walked out of the room, leaving me trembling in shock. My mind raced as I sat on the floor, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. 

 What was happening? My family had sold me, and now I was trapped in a nightmare. I felt completely alone. My family had…betrayed me. 

 I looked around the room at the broken glass and scattered books, remnants of my shattered hopes. My heart felt heavy in my chest, and I wished I could disappear. 

 Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand up. Each movement felt painful, but I had to obey him. I knelt to pick up the glass shards, the sharp edges digging into my skin. I wanted to scream, to let my frustration out, but I pushed those feelings down. I had to clean up the mess he made, as if that would somehow lessen the weight of what he had done to me. 

 As I picked up the pieces, I focused on the task at hand. I needed to get through this moment, to survive. When I finished cleaning, I stood back, looking at the now-tidy room. I felt hollow inside, as if everything that had made me who I was had been stripped away. 

 I sank down onto the sofa where he had been sitting, trying to collect my thoughts. I felt sick at the idea of being his toy, a decoration for his twisted pleasures. I had always been soft, weak, and scared. How was I supposed to survive in a world where I was treated like an object? 

 I thought about my family and how they had sold me. The betrayal stung more than the physical pain. I had trusted them to protect me, to love me, and they had handed me over to this monster without a second thought. 

 How could they do this? Did they even care about me? It felt like my heart was breaking into pieces, each one a reminder of what I had lost. I was scared and alone, trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. 

 But I knew I couldn't let him break me. I had to hold on to the hope that I could escape this nightmare, reclaim my life before it was too late. 

 I just needed to be strong enough to endure whatever he had planned for me. 

 With trembling hands, I took a deep breath and forced myself to stand. I glanced around the room, taking in the chaos he had created. I wanted to scream, to cry, but I pushed those emotions deep inside me. 

 I had to remain calm, to think clearly. If I wanted to escape this place, I needed to find a way to survive, to bide my time until an opportunity arose. I would not let him win. 

 As I cleaned the last of the shattered glass, I tried to let other thoughts fill my head. I was going to survive, I was..not going to let this man break me. By the goddess, I'll survive. 

 I just had to stay strong. 

 Then, the door creaked open, and my heart dropped. Alpha Micky walked back into the room, and my stomach twisted in fear. He looked at the mess I had cleaned, and for a moment, his expression changed. It was as if he was inspecting me, assessing my worth. 

 "You did well," he said, his voice low. "But you need to remember who's in charge here." 

 I felt a chill run down my spine. His approval felt tainted, and I hated that I needed it. He stepped closer, his eyes boring into mine, and I fought the urge to shrink away from him. 

 "You're still just a toy," he reminded me, his voice dark and cold. "Don't forget that." 

 I nodded scared, even though my heart was racing. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't his toy, that I had feelings and dreams, but the words got stuck in my throat. It felt like he had taken away my voice. 

 As he moved closer, I could smell the alcohol on him, a reminder of his earlier cruelty. I didn't want to look at him, but I couldn't help myself. I caught a glimpse of the bruises on my arms and a wave of despair washed over me. 

 What had I done to deserve this? 

 He reached out, and I flinched at his touch, expecting more pain. Instead, he brushed a finger over my cheek, where he had left a bruise. I held my breath, caught between fear and confusion. 

 "Just remember," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "you're mine now." 

 His words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but instead, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't let him see my fear. I had to be strong, even if it felt impossible.