Sold to the Cruel Alpha

Time flies fast

"Mommy! Mommy, look!" Nicole burst into the bedroom, her tiny hands clutching a crumpled piece of paper. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she ran toward me, her giggles filling the space.

"What is it, sweetheart?" I turned from the mirror, my heart swelling with affection. It was hard to believe my little girl was about to turn four. Time flew, but every moment had been worth it.

"Look!" She held the paper up proudly, revealing a series of scribbles that resembled the letters I had been writing for her. "It's a letter!"

I squatted down to her level, ruffling her curly hair. "Wow! It looks amazing! You're so talented, Nicole!" I hugged her tight, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair—like sunshine and innocence.

"I wrote it to you, Mommy!" she exclaimed, her grin infectious.

"I love it, darling. Thank you!" I stood up and looked around the room, my heart filled with gratitude. Our little home had grown with us. I smiled at the thought of how far we had come since our arrival in this lycan pack. Gone was the bassinet, donated to a new mother in need, just like I once was. The laundry was neatly folded and arranged in the drawers, each piece a testament to the life we had built together.

As I turned back to the mirror, I noticed how much I had changed too. My long black hair shone, cascading down my back. My eyes glimmered with newfound hope and happiness, reflecting the warmth of the life I had built. I felt beautiful—inside and out.

I slipped on my apron, feeling a sense of purpose wash over me. I had secured a job at a local café, a bustling place where I met people from all walks of life. It was fulfilling work, and I cherished every moment. I turned back to Nicole, who was busy playing with her toys, completely oblivious to the world around her. She looked so much like me—her dark hair, bright eyes, and playful smile were a mirror of my own, with none of her father's traits to be found. I felt relieved; it was as if I had been given a second chance to raise a child in my image.

"Alright, little artist," I said, bending down to scoop her up into my arms. "It's time to get you ready for daycare."

"Can I show Mary my letter?" she asked, her excitement bubbling over.

"Of course! But first, let's get you dressed." I set her down and helped her into a cute blue dress with little flowers embroidered on it, a gift from one of our neighbors. She looked adorable. After dressing her, I set a bowl of mashed potatoes in the kitchen to cool, just the soft texture perfect for her small hands. 

She giggled and twirled before she let me carry her, her dark curls bouncing around her face.

"Mommy, look!" she squealed, showing off her dress.

"You look like a princess!" I said, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before leading her to the kitchen. I had prepared some mashed potatoes for her breakfast, my specialty. I set her in her high chair and placed a small bowl in front of her.

"Here you go, sweetie. Open wide!" I held up a spoonful of mashed potatoes, and she leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. She took a big bite, then scrunched up her nose. 

"Yummy!" she said, though it was clear she was trying to say that through a mouthful. 

"Yes, yummy!" I laughed, enjoying the sight of her messy little face, her hands covered in potato smears as she dug in. It was moments like these that reminded me how much I loved being a mother. 

After finishing her breakfast, I cleaned her up, wiping her face and hands with a damp cloth. "You are all set for the day, little one!" I said, and she grinned at me, her mouth still speckled with mashed potato. 

I packed her lunch in her little backpack, making sure to include some of her favorite snacks. "Ready to go to daycare?" I asked, and she nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in her chair.

I then carried her into the kitchen to grab my lunch bag. As we stepped outside, the sun greeted us warmly, illuminating our little neighborhood.

"Good morning, Mrs. Turner!" I called out to an elderly neighbor tending to her garden.

"Morning, Noelle! Is that little Nicole I see?" she smiled, her face lighting up at the sight of my daughter.

"Yes, it is! She's getting so big!" I replied, glancing down at my daughter, who was beaming with pride.

As we made our way down the street, we greeted a few more neighbors, sharing small pleasantries. It felt good to be part of this community, to be accepted and embraced after everything that had happened.

We reached the house where Nicole would be spending the day, and I knocked lightly on the door. It swung open to reveal a woman with warm brown hair and bright eyes, her smile instantly putting me at ease.

"Hi, Mary!" I exclaimed, relief flooding through me as I saw my daughter already reaching out for her.

"Hey there, Noelle! And look who it is!" Mary said, bending down to embrace Nicole, who giggled and flung her arms around her neck.

"Is she all set for the day?" I asked, feeling a tinge of nervousness.

"Absolutely! She's going to have a blast with the other kids," Mary assured me. "Did she bring anything special for show-and-tell?"

Nicole held out her crumpled masterpiece, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Mommy's going to help her show it off, right?" Mary said, glancing at me.

"Of course! Just don't forget to help her with her letters when she asks!" I teased, knowing how enthusiastic Nicole was about learning.

After a few more playful exchanges, I leaned down, kissing my daughter's cheek. "Be good for Mary, okay? I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay, Mommy! Love you!" Nicole waved as I turned to leave, my heart lighter than before.

The walk to the café was invigorating. The streets bustled with life, people chatting, children laughing. I felt a surge of gratitude wash over me as I recalled how far I had come from the darkness of my past. Every step I took felt like a victory.

However, as I rounded a corner, I spotted something that made my heart sink—a young girl, barely older than a teenager, crouched in an alleyway. Tears streamed down her face as she held her stomach, and my instincts kicked in.

"Hey," I approached her slowly, careful not to startle her. "Are you okay?"

She looked up, fear evident in her eyes. "I… I don't know." Her voice trembled.

"What happened,dear?"

The girl looked up and burst into tears as incoherent words came out before she managed to make any sense"I…I..ran away from home…and now I'm lost. My boyfriend…he left me here, and I don't have anywhere to go…"

My heart ached for her. I recognized the pain in her eyes—it mirrored my own from four years ago. "I understand. I was in a similar situation not too long ago," I said softly. "But I want you to know there's help available."

"Help?" She looked skeptical but desperate.

"Yes. I can help you find it." I quickly scribbled down a note for Nurse Kelly, my heart racing with the urgency of the moment. "You need to go to the general hospital and ask for Nurse Kelly. Tell her Noelle sent you. She'll help you, I promise."

The girl's eyes widened as she took the note from my hand, her fingers trembling. "Thank you…Miss, so much. I didn't know where to turn."

"You're not alone," I reassured her, feeling a sense of purpose swell within me. "You'll be okay. Just trust the process."

"Thank you, thank you!" she repeated, her voice breaking with relief.

I gave her a warm smile, knowing I was in a position to help others now. "You've got this. Just go straight to the hospital."

As I continued on my way and watched her go, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to give back, to make a difference in someone else's life. It was a small act, but it meant everything. I was no longer a victim of my past—I was a survivor, and I was determined to help others find their way, just as I had.