Traded To The Cruel Alpha novel Chapter 3

Serafine POV

No one says a word as they guide me into the grand hall of the pack house. I know this is where the ceremony will happen, although calling it a ceremony is an insult to the word. There's no decorations here, no celebrations, only a handful of uninterested witnesses stand at the front with my father and another man that I've never seen before.

Xander Voss. I know it's him, he's the only stranger here. It's funny, I should have known he would be handsome.

That's a cruel reality. The gods and goddesses seem to bless their monsters with striking beauty, almost like they are saying the world should admire them as they burn down your pack.

Xander is tall, towering over everyone else in the room. His body is clearly mostly muscle, I can see the shape beneath his clothing. When he moves, it's like he's radiating power. He's wearing all black, like he's wanting to blend into the shadows. A dark leather coat is stretched over his shoulder, and it flows down to his boots. When he shifts on his feet, it moves slightly. I've never seen a rogue, I've only heard stories, and the way Xander dresses is nothing like those in this pack.

It's dark, leather, and hidden.

My eyes go to his face. His features are sharp, and he has a strong jawline with high cheekbones. His lips, even pressed together hard, show that they are full and not flat. His eyes are gold, bright and piercing in a way I've never seen before unless someone shifts into their wolf. He looks like a predator who is hunting its prey.

When I get closer, he doesn't react. There's no smile toward me or softening of his gaze. That alone tells me everything I need to know. He doesn't care about me or who I am. I do know, though, that he's everything the stories said he was.

He's a beast, a killer, and a nightmare wrapped into an attractive shell that makes you think he's safe when really he's not. He's just biding his time before tearing you apart, piece by piece.

He steps closer, and my body tenses instantly. For a second, I think he might say something to me. He doesn't. He just looks at me. His expression is unreadable, but the way his gaze moves over my body is like he's evaluating exactly what he has bought. I force myself not to flinch or look away.

If I do, I'll be seen as weak in his eyes, and if I'm supposed to be his wife going forward, I shouldn't cower at him looking at me.

What I don't do is speak. I've no idea about his rules around that yet.

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