Alpha's Captive (Now censored)

2-Merchandise

I dozed off. Jupiter crawling on my face with its tiny rat paws wasn't a good feeling, so I woke up.

I looked down in disbelief. That was a fucking werewolf I was talking to. A real one.

The previous bite on my finger was swelling and weeping puss. I cringed.

Infection.

I wondered whether rat bite fever would lower my pricing. Out of all the moronic places to store perishable merchandise meant to be sold, this basement took the cake. What an absolute dumbass.

Thinking about it now, why would he hit my face and break my leg, too? Who wants broken merch?

Was he lying to me? Was he not really selling me?

Not that I would now, but if I were an old disgusting molester purchasing a teenage girl on that godforsaken underground market, it would only make sense that I'd want her body flawless for my enjoyment. Not all dirty, sweaty, banged up, bruised up, beat up and infected.

Were werewolf preferences different? Did they enjoy bruised and abused girls so that they'd bruise them even more? Do they eat them after? He did say "human meat market". I shuddered in my place at that thought.

Still, he might be an idiot, but if he managed to snatch me up, he was good. I never left the house alone. I went to private school. I lived in a safe, secured, gated community. Sometimes I'd even have my dad's bodyguard with me. The mall he took me from had cameras everywhere and good security. He was a gutsy fucker.

And I needed to get away from him.

The door flew open, the boiler shrieked and Jupiter scurried away in a hurry, all at the same time, and in that one instant, something clicked in my head; there was a way.

"There she is!" he clapped his hands together, "I need you to do me a solid." he smirked as he got a key out of his pocket and unfettered me. My wrists had taken a purple hue and were aching. I rubbed them silently and looked at him, confused as to why he was undoing the cuffs and letting me lose, slightly hopeful that he was letting me go. For a second there, I really wished he had reconsidered his career path and gave up on the whole kidnapper thing to become a malpractice attorney like what his mother probably would've wanted. But alas, he pointed his thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows, "see that sink over there?"

I stayed silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Of course I had seen that fucking sink. That was all I've been staring at these past fourty eight hours. He awaited for my answer and when there was none, he suddenly grabbed the hair at the back of my head to pull me closer to him, irritated. His sea green eyes darkened and I felt myself panic slightly, "I said did you see it?" he repeated, emphasizing every word dangerously and I nodded quickly, my lungs tightening, fearful and aching from the pressure on my scalp but mainly scared at the fact that he snapped at me doing nothing.

"Yes." I answered in a shaky voice.

"Good," he let go with a little push and I backed off, "I'm going to come back in ten minutes with a potential buyer, someone who'll evaluate you," he informed sternly, but the anxiety in him trespassed right through his words. He was upset, and I had better not help him direct his anger at me, "No time to shower you, I need you to get your little ass over there and wash the blood and sweat off as best as you can," I listened to his tone carefully; it was a warning, not an instruction.

I nodded slowly.

" 'Oh, But what does it matter if he likes me?' You might ask, "he's going to fuck and throw me out, is he not? " he got up, for a second there I was confused but then understood he was mostly speaking to himself at this point, he had used a stupid sounding overly high pitched voice to impersonate me asking him.