Lyra woke slowly, her head heavy, her throat dry. The mattress beneath her was too soft, cloud-like, the sheets smooth like silk. But her wrists ached from the shackles and her body felt... used. Not violated, no, but displayed, touched, stripped of dignity.
She snuggled under the soft, sweet smelling bed clothes. Lyra could not remember ever feeling as clean in all her nineteen years of living. She lay, enjoying the comfort when she suddenly sat up in panic.
A look around her showed a room which was luxurious, decorated in black and gold, with carved obsidian pillars and thick velvet drapes. A glass chandelier glittered above, casting fractured light across the walls. No windows. No doors in sight. Just surveillance.
She had never felt or seen such luxury in her life and for a moment she wondered if she had died and gone to heaven.
A glance down at the dress she had on made her frown, definitely not heaven. She thought. The dress was humiliating and it reminded her that she had been paraded around like a piece of pottery and then paid for.
Red silk, sheer in places that should never be sheer, with a deep plunge that threatened to expose everything. Her old clothes were gone. Her chains had been removed, but her ankles bore the marks. She had been cleaned and perfumed, her hair combed and styled, the makeup refreshed. Someone had gone to the trouble of preparing her like a doll.
She wondered if what the scary man who had paid for her wanted with her, maybe he wanted to eat her. She thought hopefully. Anything would be better than the things the man at the auction had been suggesting and then the door hissed open.
Two guards entered. "Stand up," one commanded.
When she did not make an effort to move, they grabbed her roughly by the arm and forced her to her feet, dragging her from the room. Down gilded corridors and echoing marble steps, she was led through an opulent manor, far too grand for any single person to own.
Lyra was much too focused on her problems to fully enjoy the breathtaking luxury all around her.
As the walked along the corridor, she caught sight of a garden and very high walls in the distance. She immediately registered that escaping via the walls would be a very difficult endeavor, she would have to think of some other way to get out of this prison.
She was led into a vast chamber, which looked more like a throne room than a meeting hall. Dark wood floors. Arched ceilings. A fire crackled in a massive hearth. And seated in five carved chairs spaced along a long dais were five young men.
The five ruling Alphas.
Brothers.
Beasts.
Lyra swallowed thickly as she was pushed into the center of the room where the men trained their gazes on her like she was livestock, the click of her heels echoing as she stumbled. She stood, head held high, shoulders squared out of sheer stubborn pride.
"I believe that Kidnapping is a crime and i demand that you return me back home." Lyra said in school marm voice.
The first Alpha, Draven, tall with sharp features and a gaze like frost spoke first,
"This is the girl?" His voice was low, obviously unimpressed. "This is what we spent so much money on? I thought we were getting a werewolf, not a waif."
"She looks like some half starved mutt," muttered the second, Talon, massive and scarred, arms crossed like a battering ram wrapped in flesh. "How can we tell that we have not been had?"
The third, Caelan, dark-eyed and draped in velvet, leaned forward with a smirk. "She is pretty enough. But you call this a werewolf? Where is the scent? Can she even transform?"
The fourth, Rowe, quiet and brooding said nothing, but the way he looked at her was... calculating. Disinterested. Like she was another failed harvest which did not deserve his attention.
Only the youngest, Ash, perched lazily in his chair with silver earrings glinting in his ears, gave her a long, curious look. "They say she's a virgin. Untouched. Do you think she could be from some lost bloodline."
Draven scoffed. "I don't care if she bleeds gold. This is not what we paid for, i don't see how someone like her can bear at least five strong heirs for us."
Lyra's stomach twisted at their words.
Lost bloodline. Virgin. Worth. Heirs.
The worst part was how they spoke about her as if she was not right there. She was so inconsequential to them, just a breeding machine, there to push out babies.
"…the one here to sire heirs."
That was when it snapped.
"What?" she barked, voice slicing through the room. "You bought me to, what, breed me?! Like I'm some cattle?"
Five pairs of eyes turned to her.
She shook her head, disgust curling her lip. "You are all mad if you think that I'd ever lay with any one of you. You filthy dogs…"
There was a blur of movement.
Talon moved first, crossing the distance between them in a breath. He grabbed her by the jaw, his fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her to look up into his furious, golden gaze.
"Watch your tongue, girl," he growled. "Because we have paid good money for you."
His grip was brutal, his scent oppressive. Lyra's breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. She was afraid but she refused to quiver in fear, she would not give them the satisfaction.
"You are ours now, there is nothing you can do about it."
The words echoed like a death knell in the chamber.
Ours.
Not mine.
Ours.
Five Alphas.
One girl.
How was that even supposed to work? The thought made her head swim.
"I would rather die." She said and spat in his face.
Then she went limp in his hands and she would have slid to the ground if he did not scoop her weightless body into his arms..