Trisha Volkov.
I stared at the mirror, taking in my appearance.
My hair was pulled back in a half bun, the rest cascading down my back. My black dress clung to my curves, leaving little to the imagination. My Lita heels completed my look.
I looked stunning and… tainted.
I was about to be sold to an Alpha who would use me as a breeder to continue his legacy. Then I would be discarded after I served my purpose.
I hated it, I hated everything, but I couldn't protest.
A flash of memory invaded my mind.
"Cassie, I won't do it! Those women were forcing us to do all the hard work!" I whined to Cassie, the warden of the academy, about the time some women from the academy bullied us, threatening us to do their chores or face the consequences.
She glared at me with her piercing eyes. She approached me, and I naively thought she was going to comfort me.
Slap.
Her hand struck my face with a force that made my lip bleed. I tasted blood in my mouth. Tears blurred my vision.
"How dare you, you little bitch! How dare you defy me!! You'll regret this!" She yelled at me in Italian.
I was terrified of what she would do to me. She pressed something on her phone and moments later two muscular men came in. They seized me and carried me away without a sound.
I shook off the memory, recalling how they had locked me up in the dungeon for three days. No sustenance, no compassion, no escape. I got the message then.
I have no clue about my identity or my origin. I have no idea who my parents were I just know that I am nothing in the eyes of these people.
They don't know that I'm only surviving. I have more potential than they think. I'm waiting for the right opportunity. I will struggle for the thing that scares me the most, Freedom.
In my room, the song People by Libianca was playing. The last lyrics tell the story of my life.
I've been drinking more alcohol for the past five days
Did you check on me?
Now, did you look for me?
I walked into the room, eyes are red and I don't smoke Banga
Did you check on me? (Did you check on me?)
Now, did you notice me?
… Nobody wey know di paranoia, oh
'Cause I put a smile on my face
A facade you can never face (hoo)
....
I had put on a facade that these filthy money greedy people can never recognize.
"Trisha! Are ya comin' out or I gotta drag ya Outta here" Marcello, Cassie's son, yelled at me. He was sitting on my bed for the past hour urging me to get ready.
"I'm coming, let's go," I said respectively with a bow of my head.
Pretending to obey, respect, and be submissive in front of them. That's what helped me survive in this Staly FP academy.
"Do ya don't want to know who's buying ya?" Marcello asked as we walked down the hallway to where I'm meeting this said the person who was buying me.
"No, Sir it's better this way" calling him sir in Italian. I answered honestly. I don't want to know who is buying me. For all I know He can go fuck himself.
"Sempre buona a nulla" He muttered in Italian. Although I don't understand Italian much (Who will know Italian in the middle of England ?) I know that line to my very core. Hearing that from the first day I gain my senses.
'Good for nothing'
The people of this academy are Italian. Who in the name of God provided them the red card I really don't know. I wish they had never come to England. Maybe my life had been different then?
Marcello opened the door of the meeting room for me. I knew only I was allowed inside this space and my heart thudded as I stepped closer to the threshold.
With my pulse quickening, I walked into the room and the heavy door slammed shut behind me with a reverberating thud. Not a single sound broke the tense silence that filled the air as I stood still, motionless like a sculpture.
The seconds stretched out interminably until finally, I lifted my gaze to meet the eyes of the man seated on the loveseat.
At first glance, it almost seemed impossible that what I saw before me was real; he was inhumanly beautiful, a creature beyond anything I had ever heard of in stories about werewolves.
But there was no mistaking it—Christian Armstrong, the powerful Alpha king of England who commanded fear and respect among all creatures of his kind, sitting before me in all his glory.
He had boldly challenged the previous Alpha king of England for his position, and we all knew the consequences.
He sported shaggy brown hair, and his golden eyes bore into me as he stood there. His white-dress shirt clung to his chest like a second skin, while black denim jeans snaked around his legs.
A werewolf tattoo peeked through the fabric, its markings identical to my own. I wondered how many more tattoos were hidden beneath the clothing, and where exactly on his body I would find them.
"Like what you see?" His deep, masculine British accent rolled over me like a wave of warmth. No wonder he wasn't human.
My throat tightened as I looked away from him, my voice suddenly low and firm. "Pardon me. I thought you weren't here."
"I was merely testing your patience," he replied with a smirk. "I'm looking for a woman who is beautiful, healthy, quiet--and patient"
He dared to speak to me as if I was an enslaved object he owned. Fury surged through my veins, but I held it back.
'You must stay composed, Trisha! The thought of going to jail flashed through my mind'
"Do you talk like this to everyone or is it just because you think I'm easy prey?" I asked politely, determined not to show my fear.
He moved closer and closer until he had me backed into the wall, pinned in between his arms like a caged bird. My breathing quickened and my palms dripped with sweat as I grasped my dress tightly.
I felt his nose skimming along my collarbone and..." Did you just try to bite me" I asked him. My voice came out breathy.
His breath feathering my neck did things to my body. He was behaving like someone trying to mark their territory. He was behaving possessively.
"Your smell is intoxicating, like woods and honey, I wonder if you taste the same way. The thought of it makes me want to mark you" He growled those words at me.
I gulped, my gaze widening. "No...you-you can't do that" I moaned.
My words seemed to pull him out of whatever dazed state he was in.
Then he said-"it looks like you're scared. Believe me, I've done worse than caging someone with my arms before. Not that you'd ever be of interest to me anyway. I prefer bold women, not weaklings dressed up like dolls that can be molded and used however someone pleases."
My past came flooding back to me; all the hard work I had done throughout life just to maintain my dignity and protect myself from becoming a prostitute. Then this man dared to crush everything with his words!
An overwhelming rage emerged within me and without thinking, something made me do the unthinkable...I slapped him.
I pushed him away with all my might, slapping him hard with my open palm. His cheek glowed bright red from the impact and he stared at me with a mixture of shock and anger and something more, something intense, my heart thump wildly in my chest.
I knew I had to run, so I spun on my heels and sprinted out of the room without looking back, feeling his dark gaze burning into me as I left.