My Father Traded Me To The Alpha King — What I Found In His Chamber Changed Everything
Part 1
Fairy tales are nothing but beautiful lies meant to make our miserable reality bearable.
The day the tax collector came to our village, my last fragile thread of hope snapped forever.
Golden eyes caught the dim light as his frame blocked the doorway.
My father, Dan, held my younger sister Heather tightly against his chest.
He shielded her carefully, treating her as if the beta wolf might snatch her at any given second.
Taxes had doubled across the realm by order of alpha king Craig.
Dan’s knees knocked against the wooden floorboards.
Everyone in our realm, human and shifter alike, was utterly terrified of the king.
Rumors of Craig’s unspeakable cruelty and ruthless executions echoed through every terrified village.
Shifters had at least some basic protection under pack law.
Humans were treated as disposable property, meant to serve and die quietly.
I was considered infinitely worse than a normal human.
Born to shifter parents but completely unable to shift, I was my family’s ultimate shame.
My humiliation deepened significantly when my mate threw me out after five years of failing to conceive.
Dan had taken me back with bitter resentment.
Constantly, he reminded me I was another useless mouth to feed with no dowry to show for it.
Dan’s voice cracked pitifully as he begged the towering collector for just a little more time.
The beta sneered and pointed a sharp, clawed finger straight at Heather’s trembling shoulder.
He demanded her as payment for the king’s new slaves.
Heather whimpered and buried her face in Dan’s worn tunic.
Everyone knew slaves who entered king Craig’s dark, looming castle vanished forever.
Dan practically shoved me out of the shadows.
Instead, he offered me.
He eagerly called me a defective half-breed who was practically human anyway.
He listed my failures like defective items on a marketplace ledger.
My own father declared me perfect for a slave because my womb was barren.
Heather eagerly chimed in, stammering that I could tell beautiful stories to the king.
Swallowing the bitter bile rising in my throat, I lowered my head to the dirt.
I told the collector I would be honored to serve alpha king Craig.
The beta studied me with a chilling calculation before finally giving a curt nod.
I never looked back at my family as we left the village behind.
The castle was a towering fortress of white marble that hid unimaginable horrors.
Brenda, a stern servant with amber eyes, marched me into a freezing underground chamber.
She forced me to strip completely bare in front of cold, judging strangers.
Servants doused me with ice water and scrubbed my skin until it felt entirely raw.
Brenda sneered that king Craig wouldn’t tolerate village filth sullying his majestic halls.
She informed us that one lucky girl would be chosen to serve the king’s “special guest” tonight.
The terrifying silence in the room deepened as incredibly heavy footsteps approached our line.
King Craig stepped into the damp antechamber.
The air grew heavy with a raw, primal power that pressed against my skin like a physical weight.
I broke the absolute rule of obedience and dared to look up at him.
Alpha king Craig possessed a savage, breathtaking beauty that made my heart stutter uncontrollably.
His feral eyes locked directly onto mine.
Without a word, he raised a single, commanding finger and pointed right at me.
I was immediately dressed in a shimmering gown and shoved into a sprawling, heavily shadowed suite.
The air smelled thickly of musk, dried blood, and sharp, crackling magic.
A massive banquet was laid out on the long mahogany table.
I heard the sickening scrape of heavy claws on the stone floor behind me.
A voice that sounded like grinding boulders commanded me to turn around slowly.
Slowly, I faced the deepest, darkest shadows of the room.
A gargantuan, twisted beast stood before me.
His muzzle bristled with long, jagged teeth.
His limbs were distorted by what looked like pure, unending agony.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable strike.
Bracing for the end, I waited for him to rip my throat out.
Instead, he politely asked if I liked the dress he picked out.
My terror momentarily gave way to absolute shock.
Unable to hold back, I blurted out a reckless question, asking if he was cursed.
He flinched back as if I had physically struck him.
Quickly, I started telling him a story about a royal twisted into brambles to calm his sudden panic.
The beast sat perfectly still and listened intently to every single word.
Night after night, I willingly returned to his dark chambers.
I scrubbed stone floors during the day and debated complex literature with a monster until dawn.
He gifted me a secret library filled with towering stacks of rare books.
He treated my thoughts and stories with profound, undeniable respect.
He looked at me as if I was something precious, completely ignoring my barrenness.
The monster gave me the one thing my family never bothered to offer.
He saw me for exactly who I was.
Then, one quiet, rain-slicked evening, he asked me to be his wife.
To avoid breaking his fragile heart, I answered with a complicated riddle.
But as the long weeks passed, I realized I loved him with a soul-deep certainty.
I sneaked into his room right before dawn to finally say yes.
I pushed open the heavy oak door, the words of acceptance burning like fire on my lips.
The morning sun hit the massive bed, and I finally saw the beast’s true form.
