“Language,” she says sternly. “He would have. But now that you’ve thoroughly humiliated him, that is most definitely out of the question.”
“So I was just supposed to let him shit all over me?”
“Language.”
“What are my options? Can’t I pay monthly?”
“No, I’m sorry, Luna.”
What the actual fuck?
“You know I don’t have any money. How am I going to pay you back now?”
“Well, there are options,” she replies, her tone too casual for my liking.
“Options?” My heart races, dread pooling in my stomach.
It feels so unjust; I’m being punished for circumstances beyond my control.
“Yes. Two options. The flesh market is interested in you,” she states, as if discussing the weather. “A buyer is already lined up. Eager shifters are willing to pay handsomely for the chance to fuck Conrad Clawford’s rejected scent match.”
I’m almost compelled to reprimand her for her language, but I’m too shocked by that word coming out of her mouth and its implications.
I feel sick.
The flesh market is a nightmare I can’t fathom facing.
“I’ve spent six years here, and you would sell me to the flesh market?” I gasp, horror creeping into my voice.
“I’m a businesswoman, Luna,” she waves her hand dismissively. “We need to be strategic. ‘Scarred Savage’ is currently trending; you can benefit from that.”
I feel the world spinning, my breath quickening as I hyperventilate.
This can’t be real.
“Or,” she continues, “service Alpha Hudson Northcrest and his pack. He’s expressed a special interest in you.”
“Alpha Hudson Northcrest?” The name brings back the brief encounter from the ceremony.
As if summoned, the door swings open, and there he stands. His entrance commands attention, his aura filling the room, challenging the very air to disobey him, but once again, he’s not throwing around his weight.
“Miss Woods,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “We meet again.”
“Alpha Northcrest.” My response comes out steadier than I feel. I shift in my seat as my palms start to sweat.
“Choose, Luna,” the headmistress insists. “Your debt waits for no one.”
A panicked laugh bubbles out of me. “Choose?” I ask. “You’re asking me to choose between the flesh market or ‘service’ another. What does that even mean?”
“It means what you think it means, Luna,” Alpha Hudson says, staring me straight in the eyes. “Our pack lives farther north. We have five strong males who need a female for our… let’s say, urges. Our pack is remote; there aren’t many females.”
I frown. “Why would you even want me? I’m damaged and scarred.”
He gently grabs my jaw. “You are not damaged. You’re strong, and that’s what we need.”
“How long?” I ask.
There’s no way I’m signing myself to these men for life.
