“Get your clothes off,” he said, his voice emotionless.
I stared at him, my lips slightly parted in shock. What?
“I said, get your clothes off,” he repeated. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees. Face me with your ass.”
“What?” I breathed, trembling.
He took a single step forward, the air tightening .
“Didn’t you hear what I-“
He stopped.
Just like that, the words died on his tongue. His entire body froze, his eyes locked on me. It looked like he had been struck.
His pupils dilated, his lips parted slightly.
And then…He stepped back.
“Mate.”
It was supposed to be a one-night stand, not a soul-binding mistake.
I grew up in an orphanage, but at 19, I was forced to move to a brothel and become a sex worker.
Darius Dovenia was a ruthless Alpha of Silver moon pack who happened to be my first client and as he called it…Mate.
But what if the girl he’s vowed to protect… was created by the monster he’s sworn to kill?
Bound To The Ruthless Alpha Chapter 1
Soraya’s POV.
“Vivian, why are there so many hickeys on your neck?” I asked, squinting at the dark patches along her skin.
Vivian had blonde hair and bright green eyes. She turned to me after checking herself out in the small mirror she held in her hand.
“It’s not that many hickeys,” she said with a light shrug. “Just about three on my neck.”
I reached out and held her arm. “Look at your arm. You have like two more. Was the man a monster?”
Vivian chuckled. “Well, I guess he couldn’t get enough of me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You seem to really love this. Are you really going to let them lose your body this way?”
Vivian looked right at me. “Wake up, Soraya. This is our life now.”
I wasn’t going to give in to what Vivian was saying. We grew up at the orphanage, and when we turned eighteen, they started pressuring us to find somewhere else to go because we were no longer children.
But I kept working. I worked efficiently around the orphanage, trying to help out wherever I could, hoping they’d let me stay. And they did, for an extra year.
But now I was nineteen, and they said that was enough. They weren’t keeping anyone that old anymore.
So the woman at the orphanage gathered me and some other girls and boys who had come of age, dumped us into a van, and brought us to this stupid, godforsaken brothel called ‘Velvet Chics’.
The days blurred together inside Velvet Chics. All of us girls who were dumped here were crammed into one room, sleeping on thin mattresses that reeked of cheap perfume and desperation.
Every night, someone came in and picked one of us, just like that.
One by one, the girls started getting taken to clients. Sometimes two in one night.
Some came back with trembling legs and tear-streaked cheeks, whispering between sobs that they were virgins and that the man was brutal, impatient, that it was the most painful thing they had ever felt.
Some returned smiling, talking about how kind the man was, how he satisfied them, how he gave them extra cash, perfume, or small gifts.
Then one night, my name was called.
I acted fast.
I clutched my stomach and dropped to the floor, crying and curling in on myself. “It hurts,” I gasped. “Something’s wrong. My stomach-it’s killing me!”
I wailed like a dying woman, and it worked.
They backed off that night, grumbling about how useless I’d be to a paying client like that.
They gave me some bitter medicine that numbed my tongue and made me drowsy, but it was better than what they’d planned.
But I knew I couldn’t fake it forever. Sooner or later, they’d stop believing me.
What shocked me the most was how easily Vivian seemed to fit into it all.
After her first night, she returned with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, lasshe’d just had the time of her life.
I felt her grab her arm.
“Soraya,” she said with that same light voice, “soon enough, you’ll have to spread your legs for a stranger. So you’d better prepare yourself.”
I yanked my arm away from her.
Spread my legs for a stranger?
Let just any man shove himself inside me like I was some toy?
No way!
There was no way I was going to let that be my reality.
And just when I thought I was going to get some time, at least a little moment to breathe, to think, to come up with a way to escape this brothel, to run far away from this cursed place, the door swung open.
My eyes darted to the entrance, and there, a man standing tall by the doorway stepped in.
I recognized him as Sammy, one of the guards. The one who usually came to pick girls for clients.
He never knocked; none of them did. If a girl was changing or standing there naked, they didn’t care. They walked in like we were objects, like we had no privacy and nothing to protect.
My heart raced wildly in my chest. Please don’t pick me. Please don’t pick me, I prayed inwardly.
But then he stepped further in, scanning the room, and his eyes landed on me.
He pointed directly at me.
“You,” he said, his voice flat and void of care. “Soraya, step up.”
My stomach dropped.
I glanced at him, frozen. “Why?” I asked quietly. “Why should I step up?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself, you bitch, step up. We have a client for you.”
“No,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Please. I can’t attend to a client…please.”
“What do you mean?” His tone turned sharp. “You’re in a brothel, you work. Your job is to satisfy these clients. Get up right now.”
I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. “Please. Don’t make me do this. Please.”
He scoffed. “You’re the only girl here who hasn’t had the feel of a client. You think we’re just keeping you here to breathe air? You cannot waste our time or make us short on money.”
He stepped closer.
“Listen,” he growled. “This particular client is one of the richest we’ve ever had at Velvet Chics. He’s powerful, and I will not keep him waiting. If I do, Madam Felicia will have my head. Now get up.”
I swallowed, trying to think. Maybe I could try one more trick.
I clutched my chest. “My chest,” I murmured before I let my body go limp and collapsed forward.
But Sammy wasn’t fooled. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me upright.
“That trick’s not going to work today,” he said coldly.
And just like that, he dragged me out of the room.
A single tear slipped down my cheek as the hallway swallowed me whole.
I was going to spread my legs for a stranger.
Bound To The Ruthless Alpha Chapter 2
Soraya’s POV
Sammy grabbed my wrist tightly, dragging me through the hall like I was nothing more than an object being delivered. My heart pounded against my ribs, my thoughts racing faster than my feet could keep up.
He was taking me to Madam Felicia.
Madam Felicia stood at the counter when we arrived. She was busty and bold in a spaghetti top that barely contained her heavy chest.
Her cleavage spilled over, threatening to fall out completely, and she didn’t seem to care. Her long fake lashes blinked slowly as she brought a glass of liquor to her mouth and took a long gulp.
She didn’t look at me at first, but I felt the harshness in her glance the moment her eyes met mine.
Sammy cleared his throat. “Um, Miss Felicia, I have Soraya with me.”
Madam Felicia hummed as she emptied her glass and set it down, stepping forward with a sway in her hips.
The scent of alcohol hit my nose sharply when she leaned in, and I instinctively turned my face away. Her perfume couldn’t mask the liquor soaking her breath.
“Follow me, Soraya,” she said flatly. “We have a very proficient client waiting. You have to look your best.”
She turned immediately, walking away like this was routine. Maybe for her, it was. But I didn’t want this.
I shouted after her, “Miss Felicia, please, I can’t do this.”
She stopped mid-step, slowly turned around, and before I could brace myself, she yanked my ear so hard I nearly stumbled forward.
“Did you say something?” Her voice dropped with warning, and her eyes lit with fire. “Are you planning on making me lose a lot of dollars?”
I shook my head quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. There was nothing else I could do.
“Good, now follow me.”
I obeyed in silence. Sammy stayed behind me as we walked.
We arrived at the dressing room. She pushed the door open, and I stepped inside.
It was dimly lit, like every other corner of this place. A single spotlight hung above, casting a weak glow over a small bed.
“That outfit.” Madam Felicia pointed.
I followed her hand, squinting at the fabric lying on the bed. It barely looked like clothing. A small piece of red lace shimmered under the light, so tiny it was hard to believe it could cover anything.
“Go into that bathroom,” she continued, “shower, and then change into that quickly.”
I blinked, stunned.
“Huh?”
She narrowed her eyes at me as I’d just cursed her ancestors.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she snapped. “Go and have a bath. Bathe properly. We don’t want your clits smelling like rotten eggs and chasing away my client.”
I stood in the bathroom, motionless. My bare feet pressed against the cold tiled floor, and I couldn’t move. My heart was pounding so fast it felt like it would burst right through my chest.
In just a few minutes, I was supposed to be in some room with my legs spread and some disgusting man climbing over me, thrusting into me like I was nothing more than an object to satisfy him.
The thought made me sick to my stomach.
I looked up at the bathroom window. It was too high and way too small. Even if I stacked every damn thing in this bathroom, my body wouldn’t fit through it.
“Oh God,” I muttered under my breath, feeling the helplessness soak through me like water through cloth. There was no escape.
A sudden loud bang jerked me out of my thoughts.
“Soraya! Are you done having a bath?” Madam Felicia’s voice came. “If you think you can waste time there to escape from me, then you are totally mistaken. If you don’t come out in exactly three minutes, I’ll have Sammy break the door. And whether you’re naked or not, we’re going to pull you out.”
She meant every word. Madam Felicia didn’t care about me; she didn’t care about anyone. Her only god was money, and I was just another sacrifice on her altar.
With trembling hands, I turned on the shower. The water poured down, but it couldn’t cleanse the dread that clung to me. I scrubbed, more out of fear than hygiene.
My mind wasn’t in the moment-my body was here, but my spirit was floating somewhere far away.
When I was done, I grabbed the small brown towel and wrapped it around myself tightly, my arms folded across my chest. I stepped out of the bathroom slowly.
My bare skin prickled under the cold air, but worse was the embarrassment. Sammy was still in the room, standing like some mindless guard dog.
Madam Felicia eyed me.
“Hmm. Hope you bathed and washed yourself properly.”
I nodded quickly.
“Good,” she said curtly, holding out something red and flimsy. “Take this.”
She shoved the piece of fabric toward me. “Go in there, clean your body with that towel, and wear that outfit quickly.”
I didn’t speak. I turned and went back into the bathroom with trembling hands. I let the towel fall from my body and stared at the outfit in my hands.
Were these even clothes?
I pulled it on slowly. The hem barely passed the curve of my butt. The chest area was worse, a see-through mesh, with only two small black patches barely hiding my nipples.
My cleavage was out, my boobs were clearly visible through the net. I wanted to die. I wanted the ground to just open and swallow me.
I stood still for a moment, breathing shallowly. Then, gathering every scrap of courage I didn’t feel, I stepped out.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to hide what little dignity I had left. The outfit was so revealing, I felt like I was walking out there naked.
Madam Felicia’s eyes landed on me immediately.
She marched over and yanked my arms away from my chest. “What the hell are you covering?” she snapped. “Put your hands down.”
I swallowed, stiffening under her sharp gaze as she stepped back to look at me from head to toe. Her eyes slowly roamed over my body like I was a mannequin in a display case.
“Hmm,” she muttered. “Your tits aren’t so bad after all. If I’d known this earlier, you’d have been on premium clients from day one.” Her laugh was cold. “Good for you. You’re going to be used really well tonight.”
My stomach twisted.
“Turn around,” she said.
I hesitated.
“I said turn around.”
I turned slowly, wishing I could disappear. She came closer, and then suddenly, I felt her hand grab one side of my butt. My eyes widened in shock.
“Soft enough, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath like she was assessing a product.
I didn’t say anything; my throat felt like it had shut completely.
“Go sit there,” she ordered.
I was nudged toward the dressing table. The seat was cold against my bare skin as I sat, trying not to shake. She snatched a comb and dragged it through my hair like she was trying to rip my scalp off.
“Ouch!” I cried.
She didn’t stop. “Shut up. The client is almost here, you’re the reason we’re running late.”
The brush moved again, yanking through tangles with no care for the pain. I bit the inside of my cheek just to keep from whimpering.
She smeared some makeup over my face: foundation, lipstick, something shimmery near my eyes. I didn’t even bother to look in the mirror.
When she was done, she stepped back and nodded once. “Good, now for perfume.”
I barely had time to brace myself before she sprayed it all over me, including near my neck and chest. The scent was so strong it slipped into my mouth.
“Pah!” I choked, spitting slightly.
“Perfect,” she said.
The next thing I knew, Madam Felicia had me by the wrist, dragging me down the hallway like I was some stubborn child.
Her grip was so tight I could feel her nails biting into my skin. I stumbled behind her in silence, trying not to trip in the ridiculous heels she’d forced on me.
We stopped in front of a door, Room 27. The brass number on the frame looked like it had been scratched one too many times.
Before I could even ask what was happening, she shoved the door open and pushed me inside. I nearly fell.
She was about to slam the door shut when a voice called out behind her.
“Madam Felicia!” Sammy’s voice was breathless as he came running up the hallway. “The client is here!”
Felicia paused, turned halfway, then smiled like this was the best news she’d heard all day. Slowly, she looked back at me, and the smile twisted into something that made my chest go cold.
“Soraya,” she said sweetly, “your client is here.”
Then she shut the door.
Bound To The Ruthless Alpha Chapter 3
Soraya’s POV
As the door slammed in my face, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears.
The client was already here.
They didn’t even give me time to think or even find a way to run.
Then, from outside the door, Madam Felicia roared.
“Make sure to stay put on the bed. Sit on the bed quickly. If I open this door and you’re not on the bed, I’ll kill you.”
Kill me?
I swallowed hard, my throat dry and the lump of panic rising fast.
I moved slowly, like every inch of me weighed a thousand pounds, and sat in the middle of the bed. The mattress dipped under me. I hugged my legs to my chest.
My arms wrapped tightly around my knees. The AC was cold, and I felt… naked.
In just a few minutes…
A man was going to walk in here…And spread my legs.
My stomach twisted violently, and my heart thundered like it wanted to claw its way out of my chest.
How did the other girls handle this?
Was this really happening?
Was this really how I was going to lose my virginity? To a stranger in a cold room, I didn’t walk in willingly.
Was this what life planned for me?
My thoughts were spiraling, spinning so fast I couldn’t catch a single one. Fear bloomed in my chest like a thousand vines wrapping around my ribs, squeezing tight.
Then the door clicked, and every muscle in my body froze.
The door creaked open, and then I saw a man standing at the entrance.
I couldn’t see his face clearly as the light behind him made his entire figure look like a shadow. But I could tell he was tall and broad-shouldered.
And his eyes were so grey they glowed like silver under moonlight. They were the only thing clear at that moment.
He had dark, tousled hair. He took slow, deliberate steps inside, and I instinctively flinched away, hugging my legs tighter.
He stepped closer, and I could finally make out his features under the dim lights. My heart didn’t know whether to still be in terror or confusion.
He was stunning, with dark, tousled hair that looked like it had been dragged through his hands more than once, grey eyes that almost glowed in the darkness, and fair skin that made his features stand out sharply.
The air around him was so cold, it felt like winter had just walked into the room.
He stopped right in front of the bed, towering over me. Then, without a word, he began to unbutton his long black coat. He slid it off his shoulders, dropping it carelessly to the floor behind him.
And then he looked me straight in the eye.
“Get your clothes off,” he said, his voice emotionless.
I stared at him, my lips slightly parted in shock. What?
“I said, get your clothes off,” he repeated. “Turn around. I want you on your hands and knees. Face me with your ass.”
“What?” I breathed, trembling.
He took a single step forward, the air tightening.
“Didn’t you hear what I-“
He stopped.
Just like that, the words died on his tongue. His entire body froze, his eyes locked on me. It looked like he had been struck.
His pupils dilated, his lips parted slightly.
And then…He stepped back.
“Mate.”
The word slipped from his lips like it startled even him.
I blinked.
My brows furrowed. Mate? What?
Was he… British?
But his accent wasn’t British. What did he mean?
He suddenly dragged a hand through his hair, the movement rough and agitated, like his scalp was on fire. Then he started pacing back and forth and back again. His long strides ate the space like a caged animal trying to contain itself.
What the hell?
One second, he looked thrilled, like he’d just won the lottery. Next, he looked like he wanted to rip someone’s throat out.
Then came the scowl, the low growl under his breath, his hands curling into fists. I blinked again, speechless.
Was this man a maniac?
My back tensed, suddenly aware of how very alone I was in this unfamiliar room. With this… man
Then his eyes snapped to me again.
“Get up, right now.”
I stared at him. What?
He had just told me to face the bed, on my hands and knees, like I was some… offering. Now he wanted me to get up?
But something in his tone, in his entire presence, told me not to test him.
So I rose, slowly, like my limbs weren’t mine. I stood there, awkward and unsure, trying to cover myself as much as I could.
He stared at me…no, scanned me. His eyes dragged down my form like he was seeing more than just flesh. He looked… conflicted, like a million thoughts were going off in his head, none of which he cared to explain.
Then, without warning, he stepped forward and grabbed my wrist.
“Come with me right now.”
His grip was firm, showing no room for argument. He turned, dragging me toward the door. My heart thundered in my chest with panic.
The moment he opened the door, he paused.
His eyes flicked down to me again, and something about the way his gaze narrowed made me flinch.
Then, he let out another huff, turned back, and with a surprising amount of speed, snatched the blanket off the bed.
Before I could even register what he was doing, he wrapped it around me-tight, twisting it in such a way that both my hands were pinned inside like a wrapped sausage.
“Wait, what are you-!”
I didn’t even finish my sentence before he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. Like I was some sack of flour he had just picked up from the market.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I shouted, the blanket muffling most of it. “Put me down!”
But he was already walking out of the room.
And I was helplessly flung over his shoulder, flailing inside a blanket burrito.
What kind of nightmare was this?
I blinked, still upside down over his shoulder, the blanket cocooning my arms and body so tightly I could barely wiggle my fingers.
My hair hung like a curtain, swaying with every long stride he took. My mouth hung open slightly, not because I meant it to, but because I had no idea what to say.
What was I even supposed to say?
He walked like he owned the damn place. Every hallway, every chandelier, and velvet curtain we passed-it all seemed to shrink under his presence.
I didn’t know who this man was, but the moment we entered the lounge and Madam Felicia saw him, I knew exactly what power looked like.
She straightened immediately, almost choking on the drink she was nursing. Her heavy lashes fluttered as she stared up at him like a deer caught in headlights.
For once, she didn’t look like the devil who owned my soul. She looked like a scared woman.
“Mr. Darius,” she gasped, setting her glass down and rising slowly. “Is there a problem?”
He said nothing.
Madam Felicia laughed nervously, her hands smoothing down her satin robe.
“You didn’t like our service?” Her voice pitched higher. “We can get you another girl. Someone more… compliant or exotic. Just say the word.”
Darius finally spoke, voice calm but sharp. “I want this one.”
My heart paused.
Felicia blinked. “Pardon?”
“I said,” he repeated, voice lower now. “I want this one. I’m taking her with me.”