Traded To The Cruel Alpha novel Chapter 3

Serafine POV

No one says a word as they guide me into the grand hall of the pack house. I know this is where the ceremony will happen, although calling it a ceremony is an insult to the word. There's no decorations here, no celebrations, only a handful of uninterested witnesses stand at the front with my father and another man that I've never seen before.

Xander Voss. I know it's him, he's the only stranger here. It's funny, I should have known he would be handsome.

That's a cruel reality. The gods and goddesses seem to bless their monsters with striking beauty, almost like they are saying the world should admire them as they burn down your pack.

Xander is tall, towering over everyone else in the room. His body is clearly mostly muscle, I can see the shape beneath his clothing. When he moves, it's like he's radiating power. He's wearing all black, like he's wanting to blend into the shadows. A dark leather coat is stretched over his shoulder, and it flows down to his boots. When he shifts on his feet, it moves slightly. I've never seen a rogue, I've only heard stories, and the way Xander dresses is nothing like those in this pack.

It's dark, leather, and hidden.

My eyes go to his face. His features are sharp, and he has a strong jawline with high cheekbones. His lips, even pressed together hard, show that they are full and not flat. His eyes are gold, bright and piercing in a way I've never seen before unless someone shifts into their wolf. He looks like a predator who is hunting its prey.

When I get closer, he doesn't react. There's no smile toward me or softening of his gaze. That alone tells me everything I need to know. He doesn't care about me or who I am. I do know, though, that he's everything the stories said he was.

He's a beast, a killer, and a nightmare wrapped into an attractive shell that makes you think he's safe when really he's not. He's just biding his time before tearing you apart, piece by piece.

He steps closer, and my body tenses instantly. For a second, I think he might say something to me. He doesn't. He just looks at me. His expression is unreadable, but the way his gaze moves over my body is like he's evaluating exactly what he has bought. I force myself not to flinch or look away.

If I do, I'll be seen as weak in his eyes, and if I'm supposed to be his wife going forward, I shouldn't cower at him looking at me.

What I don't do is speak. I've no idea about his rules around that yet.

"Your things," she says quietly. There's no kindness or pity in her voice, just duty. I take the bag without saying a word. It's far too light. There's nothing much in it, then again, I had nothing. These are the things he deemed necessary.

Swallowing hard, I turn and look at the pack once more. No one is watching me leave, no one is coming to say goodbye, and why should they? They don't care about me. The guards continue their patrols, the omegas are rushing to finish whatever task they started, life here is moving on like I never existed. Then again, according to people here, I shouldn't exist.

It shouldn't sting that no one is saying goodbye or watching me leave, but it does. Twenty-Three years of me living here, and no one is saying goodbye.

The sound of a deep rumbling engine draws my attention forward, and my eyes lock on the car that parks just by the steps. It's expensive and too out of place for here. It's polished and shines, and isn't what a rogue would usually have. So how does he?

Now I can't help but wonder where he is taking me. Xander doesn't have a pack, he doesn't have land, or a kingdom to rule over. So why does he have a car that screams wealth? Who exactly is this man that I've been sold to?

Xander walks toward the vehicle without a second thought or glance at anything. I know that whatever life I had here is over, there's no turning back. Clutching my bag tighter, I force my feet to move forward and follow him into the car.