Chapter 1: A virgin offered to the Mafia
Pandora
Keep my mouth shut.
Don't look him in the eyes.
Call him "Master."
Do whatever he says.
They were the rules I would follow before being offered to Alpha Drogba, the Don of the mafia in Nightfang City. I was to be his offering in exchange for the protection of my pack.
"And remember, spread your legs. That’s important, too. Do you understand, little girl?" Alpha Ferguson asked.
My pack, Broken Claws, was truly broken. We had lost so much territory that we ended up living in caves. But our alpha believed that we were still important. Long ago, it was said that special blood ran through our pack, that our territory was special. But all of that was lost now.
“The girl knows her rules. I’ve spent years preparing her. Her wolf is suppressed; she only obeys," said Silvia, my caretaker. My parents willingly gave me away; they couldn’t afford to keep me. My role, my so-called "destiny", was supposed to be better. Here, women were treated like slaves, like trash that worked, birthed children, and died for others. Honestly, I didn’t know which fate was worse.
“I hope you didn’t give her too many details about what awaits her,” Ferguson said, scratching his chin. A large, dark mark spotted one side of his face. All of us had marks like that, it was normal in the pack. The elders said the dark spots were marks of the earth and the moon, the dark and light sides. But others believed we were tainted. "Take off your robe," I obeyed. Underneath, I wore only a thin loincloth. His eyes gleamed with malice. "She’s not that ugly,"
"Dressed up and cleaned up, she could pass as your daughter," Silvia responded.
Of course, the deal was for an important woman, not a nobody like me. Ferguson circled me, inspecting me. I had a large birthmark on my abdomen and smaller ones all over; one crossed my chest. He came closer, and I could feel his breath.
"It’s a shame. It’s rare to find a virgin these days," he said, squeezing one of my breasts with his rough hand. I felt sick, like I might vomit. "I bet you’re nice and tight down there, huh? I could take a look," he whispered, moving my loincloth aside to peer between my legs. I trembled, but Silvia intervened.
“May I remind you, Alpha, that the Don might not appreciate his gift being damaged”
"Get her ready," he ordered bitterly. They took me to the old house where widows, elders, and women deemed "useless" stayed. They bathed me gently, untangled my long, curly, brown hair, and dressed me in the best clothes they could find. They adorned me with necklaces made of wood and stone.
"Thank you for everything, my ladies,"
“May the goddess protect you, little one. We’ll see each other on the moon. They say it looks like this land, rocky and barren. We’ll feel at home," said Ana, one of the oldest women. They wore wooden masks that covered their mouths and noses so that no one would have to look at them. But they removed them for me. They rarely did that, and I was in awe.
“You are beautiful” I said, bowing low in farewell. I noticed some of them crying.
A mask covered my face. It was shaped like a small bird’s beak, which was the alpha’s emblem.. A truck waited outside with Ferguson and the other warriors already there.
"At least I’ll get to see the city," I thought as we drove down from the mountains. Nightfang City was stunning. I realized then just how little I knew of the world. A massive crowd waited at the gates, causing chaos in the multiple entrance lanes.
"What the hell is this?" the alpha asked.
"The games begin soon, Alpha," a warrior replied.
"Games?"
"The Shadow Bet, the mafia’s blood event."
"Our pack should be part of that. Why weren’t we invited?"
"The entry fee is a million dollars," the warrior whispered. Ferguson went silent. Suddenly, we saw a group dressed in dark clothing being waved through. They carried a large black banner with a crescent moon split in two. That could mean only one thing: rogues.
"That damn Alpha Tristan of Pierced Moon is here!" Ferguson growled. We rolled through the city. It was magnificent, bright, towering buildings and millions of people.
Rogues had taken everything from us. Suddenly, Ferguson’s hand slid onto my thigh. He lifted my skirt to touch my skin.
“Listen closely, girl. This is your moment to be useful. Tristan will be in the games. Do whatever it takes to help Drogba destroy that rogue. Let him do whatever he wants with you. Earn his favor," he whispered into my ear as his hand crept toward my groin. His fingers brushed against my panties.
"Yes, alpha," I said, swallowing hard.
"If you must die for your pack, do it. No one’s waiting for you to return," he said when we left the car. We approached the doors of a massive complex, bigger than anything I had ever seen. We waited a long time.
"Broken Claws Pack," a voice called out, followed by laughter. We entered a grand hall with red velvet curtains and a crimson carpet. I saw alpha Drogba seated on a throne-like chair. Dozens of soldiers stood around him, all in dark suits. He was handsome, massive, his hair was light, nearly white, a mark of the moon's favor. They said he was fierce yet kind to his people. I prayed that was true.
I quickly realized it wasn’t.
“What do these cave-wolves want? Are they here to beg again? I don’t have time for weak packs," he said in a deep voice. More laughter followed. Ferguson nervously gulped as he stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“We came to fulfill our agreement, alpha. You promised the protection of your mafia and your pack, the White Hunters."
"Agreement?" What agreement?" Drogba asked, amused, looking around at his well-dressed audience of wolves. "What could you give me that I don't already have? I own this city. I’m the reigning Shadow Bet champion. I control more territory than any other alpha. I run this city’s mafia and half the region."
"The deal included my daughter. She's a virgin who was specially trained to please you. You would be her master and owner," said Ferguson. Drogba didn’t seem impressed, just curious.
"Really?" he asked. A man beside him whispered in his ear, apparently reminding him of the agreement. "Show me your daughter," I stepped forward.
"Take off the mask." I did. "Now the robe." I stood there in my thin dress as laughter echoed around us. " Couldn't you find one uglier or more stained?" he asked. This time, the laughter was deafening.
"But Alpha, we need protection from rogues!" Ferguson pleaded. When the laughter faded, Drogba looked bored.
"She might be useful for something. Maybe we can have a little fun with her. Go on, broken girl," he said. Some warriors dragged me away.
There were no goodbyes. I had arrived in the city and faced my fate, unaware of how cruel it would be.