The alpha begged me to be his brother's substitute

The iron door groaned open after fifteen excruciating days, the silver collar around my neck still oozing blood where it had seared into my flesh.

In the dim light of the floor lamp, Arther's shadow loomed large over the bookshelves.

His hands were buried in Bellona's waist as he pinned her against the ancient tomes.

I watched in silence as his knot swelled.

When he finally pulled away, his elegant fingers twirled the obsidian ring on her finger.

"This moonstone engagement ring from the black market auction? It's one of a kind, just like you, my love."

Leaning against the doorframe, I let out a bitter laugh, my blood-crusted fingers absently tracing the still-raw wound on my lower back where a silver arrow had pierced me.

So this was why Arther had taken his sweet time gathering the ransom - he'd wanted those rogue werewolves to break me.

But it didn't matter.

I was about to slip away unnoticed when his cold voice froze me in my tracks.

"Stop."

Arther glanced over his shoulder.

"There's a new sex shop downtown. Bellona wants the latest lace stockings. You have ten minutes."

His fingers continued to play with Bellona's hair as he spoke.

I stared down at the smear of my own blood on his polished leather shoe, then nodded woodenly.

By the time I returned, sweat had soaked through my shirt.

The silver handcuffs had left angry purple welts on my wrists, and every step sent searing pain shooting up from the ragged gashes on my ankles where the iron chains had dragged.

In my trembling hands, I held a paper bag filled with twenty different pairs of lingerie - a small price to pay for the privilege of being Arther's punching bag.

The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing Bellona curled possessively in Arther's lap.

Her painted nails traced the outline of his alpha - marked collarbone.

"Why so many?" Arther's golden eyes glowed as they landed on my trembling hands

"Bellona only wanted the diamond - encrusted pair."

His voice dripped with disdain, as if I were nothing more than a mangy mutt failing at a simple task.

As I turned to leave, Bellona's saccharine voice slithered through the air.

"Wait, love. I want to try them on now."

She nuzzled Arther's neck, her pheromones thick with arousal.

"Make her help me, baby. "

"You heard her. Don't make me repeat myself."

My fingers tightened around the blood - stained bandages hidden in my pocket, my nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

Bellona sauntered over, her stiletto heels clicking menacingly on the marble floor.

With a flick of her wrist, she let her silk robe pool at her feet, revealing a fresh mating bite on her hip - Arther's mark, still raw and oozing with alpha saliva.

"These pearl - encrusted ones will do."

Bellona propped her dainty foot against my knee, her stiletto heel pressing into the tender flesh.

"Hurry up. Arther and I have better things to do."

I sank to one knee, the cold marble floor seeping through my thin pants.

As my fingers grazed the delicate lace of the stocking, a searing pain shot through my back - a reminder of the silver bullet wound I'd taken for Arther.

Now, that very scar throbbed as I served the she - wolf draped across his lap.

The silk slid up her calf, the string of pearls catching on the fresh scabs of my wounds inflicted by rogue werewolves' claws.

Without warning, Bellona's hand shot out, her fingers digging into the base of my neck.

"Pathetic. All those battles fought, and you're still nothing but a glorified servant. I could snap my fingers, and Arther would destroy you."

With a cruel laugh, she pressed down on the still - healing gash on my shoulder. The taste of blood flooding my mouth.

"What's taking so long?" Arther's growl rumbled through the room.

In a fit of rage, I tore the stocking's ribbon, the sharp sound echoing in the silence.

As I stood, I knocked over the paper bag, sending a cascade of silk and lace tumbling to the floor.

The stockings tangled around my ankles.

Bellona's mocking laughter and Arther's annoyed snarl faded into the background as I stared at the mess, my wolf howling in despair within me.

"Ava, you can't even handle the simplest tasks? This is your punishment!"

Arther's eyes glowed with alpha rage as he snatched the stockings.

His fingers moved with brutal efficiency, wrapping the silk around my wrists.

The fabric still carried Bellona's heat, now turned into a weapon that bit into my flesh, leaving angry red welts that quickly welled with blood.

Before I could even gasp, he twisted the remaining stockings into a tight rope.

With a vicious snarl, he brought it down across my back.

Old bullet wounds throbbed as if freshly reopened.

I stumbled and crashed to my knees, the taste of blood flooding my mouth.

Arther loomed over me, his shadow casting me in darkness.

His wolf's hackles were raised, the scent of his anger - a mix of burning cedar and ozone - filling the room.

"Remember your place. You're nothing but a useless mutt who can't even serve properly."

I bowed my head. "I'm sorry." But my apology only seemed to stoke the fire in his eyes, making his glare icier.

That night, Arther prepared for a high - stakes business meeting.

In the past, I'd been the only one at his side for such events, my presence a shield against rival packs' prying eyes. But this time, Bellona clung to his arm.

As they left, I caught a glimpse of the possessive look in Arther's eyes as he regarded Bellona.

His wolf had chosen her.

And I, the one who'd bled and fought for him, was now nothing more than yesterday's prey.

In the dressing room, I carefully selected a long - sleeved gown, its satin folds designed to conceal the scars crisscrossing my arms and back.

Arther's nostrils flared as he took in my choice.

"Why are you dressed like a nun?" Before I could explain, he waved a dismissive hand.

"No matter. Tonight, you're merely Bellona's shadow. You're no longer needed to impress the packs."

The ballroom glittered under a constellation of crystal chandeliers, their light reflecting off the champagne flutes held by the gathered alpha elites.

Bellona clung to Arther's arm, her pink gown hugging every curve.

"Alpha Arther, I can't drink..." she pouted, batting her eyelashes.

"Don't worry, love. There's someone to take your place."

I accepted glass after glass of liquor, the burn of alcohol mingling with the ache of old silver - bullet wounds.

Each swallow felt like swallowing fire, and my wolf whimpered in protest as my stomach cramped painfully.

Arther's golden eyes narrowed when I instinctively clutched my abdomen.

"Stop playing the victim. " His disdainful sneer sent a fresh wave of pain through my heart.

Alex, a lecherous alpha from a rival pack, leaned forward.

"I hear your little servant can hold her liquor, Arther. Ten shots of wolfsbane - infused whiskey, and I'll sign that merger."

Arther's gaze bored into me.

"This is your chance to prove your worth, Ava. Don't disappoint."

I downed the shots in quick succession, the toxic mixture searing my throat.

The room spun, and the scars on my back throbbed in time with my pounding heart.

Alex's greasy hand snaked around my waist.

"Since we have a deal, Arther, how about lending me your pet for the night?"

Arther's arm tightened around Bellona.

"Your choice, Ava. Spend the night with Alex, or pack your things."

"I'll go with Alex."

My voice was steady, but inside, my wolf howled in despair as memories of all the times I'd risked my life for Arther flashed before my eyes.

The moment the words left my lips, a wave of nausea overwhelmed me.

Arther's growl shook the room.

He hurled his champagne flute to the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces, and stormed out, Bellona trailing behind him with a victorious smirk.