Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man

CLARE – POV

We didn’t go into the forest.

Not yet.

Instead, the carts creaked to a stop outside what looked like an old, rotting stone lodge — like someone gutted a hunting cabin and rebuilt it with menace and mildew. Massive iron gates loomed ahead, and the air thickened the closer we got. Magic. I could feel it buzzing under my skin, like static before a storm.

I guess even wolves liked their cages wrapped in curses.

The wolves herding us barked sharp, guttural orders, snapping the reins on the horses pulling our carts. The wheels groaned, the scent of wet earth and old blood thick in the air. My stomach churned.

They unloaded us like supplies.

One by one.

Chain-linked necks. Shackled wrists. Cold iron pressed to skin.

I didn’t fight.

No one did.

Because there was something worse than the wolves in the air tonight.

Something watching.

Waiting.

They dragged us into the lodge. It wasn’t a lodge. Not really. More like a medieval dungeon someone tried to decorate with animal pelts and rusty swords. We were led through a series of echoing halls to an underground level where the walls wept with moisture and moss crept between stones like veins.

And that’s where they put us.

Cages.

Actual fucking cages.

Lined up in two rows, humans shoved in like stray animals at a butcher’s shelter. The metal bars were thick and covered in runes. Magic-proofed. Escape-proofed. Hope-proofed.

I got the middle one.

Prime view of despair.

I sat. Curled knees to chest. Tried to disappear into the floor while wolves laughed behind us and bet on which of us would make it the longest once the "festivities" started. One said I’d go first.

Another said, "Nah, that one’s got bite."

That earned a round of snickers.

Bite wouldn’t save me.

Not from claws. Not from teeth. Not from a pack of musclebound psychos raised to believe that ripping out a throat was a romantic gesture.

The worst part?

It was so quiet in here.

Not the silence of peace — the silence of dread.

No crying. No talking. Just the hum of enchantments and the occasional clink of chains when someone moved wrong.

And me?

I was thinking too much.

Thinking about my brother.

Did he sit in one of these cages? Did he smell the piss-soaked stone and feel the weight of death in the air like this? Did he try to run when they opened the gates? Or did he freeze?

Or worse — did he end up sold?

To those hags.

All teeth and rot and stringy hair.

They’d pointed at girls with rounder hips, saying, "Meaty." Thank God I was built like a haunted string bean. Though I’d seen the way one looked at me — curious. Like she was considering marinating first.

I swallowed the bile that climbed up my throat.

I needed a plan. Something. Anything.

But all I had was a full bladder, a dying period cramp, and the realization that being sucked dry by a hot vampire was probably the least terrifying fate available to me right now.

And Blaze.

Blaze was probably losing his shit.

If he realized I was gone.

If he gave a damn.

And Reed...

My breath caught.

Reed.

That lying bastard. That stupid, brooding, half-feral, beautiful wolf bastard.

Was this what he knew about? Was this why he stared at me so hard when I horror of a place?

He knew something.

Maybe not everything.

But something.

And now I was in a cage. Waiting for a bloodsport ceremony.

Waiting to die.

********

The stench of fear clung to the air like mold—thick, sour, and rotting. It was in my throat, my hair, my skin. I sat in the middle cage, knees pulled tight to my chest, trying to ignore how the icy floor leeched into my bones with every breath I took. The crying had mostly stopped. No more screaming or begging. Just silence. Haunted silence, broken only by the occasional hiccup of a sob or the slow drip of water echoing off these goddamn dungeon walls.

Torchlight flickered along the narrow hall like it was laughing at us. Shadows danced like they were getting ready for a show we didn’t want to be part of.

I’d lost track of how long we’d been here. Time didn’t work in places like this. It stretched, warped, got eaten alive. Long enough for me to stop expecting rescue. Long enough for the wolves outside to start getting bored.

And bored wolves were dangerous.

A low chuckle cut through the quiet.

I turned my head slowly, already dreading what I’d see.

Two of them—young, cocky, clearly assholes. One was taller, broad shoulders, blond hair like he’d stepped out of a frat house. His grin was all teeth and filth, and his yellow eyes locked on me like I was dinner. Not just dinner. Dessert.

He leaned toward his buddy and whispered something.

The other one laughed.

I didn’t need to hear it to know it wasn’t good.

The blond one strolled down the corridor like he owned the place, like this was a joke, and we were all just here for his entertainment. He crouched in front of my cage, fingers dangling through the bars, his grin stretching wider.

"You know," he said, voice slick like oil on water, "this doesn’t have to be so bad. You’re pretty. Bet you’d taste good. Bet you’d feel even better."

I stared at him.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

But I clenched my fingers tighter around my knees so he wouldn’t see them shake.

"Get bent."

He laughed. "Feisty. I like that. Look, sweetheart, here’s an idea. You give me a good time before the hunt, make it worth it for me, and I can switch you out. Find another girl to run for the wolves. You? I could keep. Feed you. Fuck you soft. Better than ending up in pieces, right?"

I smiled.

Sweet.

Deadly.

"I’d rather choke on my own spleen than let your mangy dick anywhere near me."

His smile cracked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, mutt. I’d rather let a vampire drain me dry. And that bastard terrifies me, so congrats—you’re worse."

His pupils narrowed to slits. The air changed, sharp and charged.

Wolves always did the same thing when they were pissed: they went still.

Still like a landmine before it explodes.

He blinked. Then smiled. Not charming — cold.

"You’d rather be shredded than touched by me?"

"I’d rather be buried in a pile of goblin shit."

His smile disappeared

"You little bitch," he spat. "Think you’re better than me? You could’ve had a chance. Now I’m going to hunt you myself. My wolf’s gonna fuck you first. Right there in the dirt. And then I’ll rip you open and laugh while you scream."

I tilted my head, snorting. "Wow. Real charming. Use that on the ladies sometime. Let me know how they love you."

He lunged up, muscles coiled like he’d rip the door off its hinges.

For a second, I thought he would.

But he didn’t.

I didn’t flinch.

"Good luck catching me," I said. "You might want to practice running. You’ll need it."

He spun on his heel, storming back toward his friend, snarling under his breath.

I exhaled. Not relief. Just... space.

Then I heard it.

"Hey, baby..."

It was the girl in the next cage over. Pretty. Curvy. Desperate. Her voice was syrup and smoke, and she’d yanked down what was left of her top, pressing her breasts against the bars.

The wolf stopped. Looked.

She gave him a slow, sultry smile. "Forget her. I can make it better. Sweeter."

He didn’t even hesitate.

The wolf paused, grinned, and stalked over to her.

They talked low. I couldn’t hear the words. But I saw when he pulled a key off his belt, opened her cage, and took her hand.

A second later, her cage clicked open. She stepped out, eyes glazed but lips still smiling, and he draped his arm around her like she was a prize pig. His buddy gave him a thumbs-up as they vanished down the hall together.

I turned away, bile creeping up my throat.

"You’re stupid," a voice murmured beside me. Another girl. Ragged hair. Hollow eyes. "You should’ve taken the deal. Better to be a whore than a corpse."

"I mean it. You should’ve taken the deal. You think you’re tough? That your pride’s gonna save you? Girl, they’re gonna hunt us like rabbits. And they’ll enjoy every damn second."

I didn’t answer.

But her words sat in my head like stones.

Should I have played along?

Not actually go through with it. But lied. Acted like I would. Gotten him alone. Then... what? Knocked him out? Bit his damn ear off? Grabbed a torch and lit him up?

My brain spun.

Maybe.

It might’ve worked. Might still work, if the right wolf came sniffing. I could pretend. Seduce. Distract. Survive.

They were stronger. Faster.

But I had something they didn’t.

Wits.

Fire.

And right now, being clever was the only thing that might keep me alive.

Because no one was coming.

Not Reed.

Not Blaze.

Not even that creepy-ass ghost girl back at the boarding house.

No. I was on my own.

And maybe I was done being the damsel.

Should have found me already. Should have realized I was gone sooner.

Screw them both.

I wasn’t waiting for monsters to save me anymore.

I’d find my own way out.

I just had to find the right monster.

And then outsmart him.

Hell, maybe I’d become the monster.