Chapter 2: The Auction

The auctioneer stood before me, a smirk curling his lips. He was a tall man dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair slicked back, eyes gleaming with sharp amusement. He carried himself with the air of someone who owned the room—someone who had broken countless people before me.

"You’re the most valuable one here."

His words made my stomach twist.

I refused to look away. I wouldn’t cower.

"Go to hell," I muttered.

He chuckled. "Oh, I like you already. But you’ll have to save that attitude for your buyer."

The word buyer made my blood run cold.

Behind me, Naia let out a sharp breath. "Selene," she whispered, voice hoarse, barely above a breath. "They can’t—"

Her voice cracked.

I didn’t know what she was going to say. They can’t do this? They can’t take you?

But we both knew the truth. They could. And they would.

Darius shifted against his chains, his golden eyes dark with fury.

"What the hell do you want from us?" he growled. "You already destroyed our pack. Haven’t you taken enough?"

The auctioneer turned to him, unimpressed. "Tsk, tsk. You rogues never learn. I’m not the one who wants anything from you."

He crouched down, meeting my gaze.

"But there are many out there who do."

A slow, creeping dread coiled in my stomach.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver tag. The moment he held it up, I knew what it meant.

I was being marked.

"Lot 47," he mused. "A rare find. And such a pretty one, too. They’ll be bidding high for you."

A guard moved toward the cage door, a pair of thick iron cuffs in his hands.

I stiffened.

Not like this.

I couldn’t let them drag me away like some obedient animal.

The second the door swung open, I lunged. My elbow crashed into the guard’s throat. He staggered back, choking on a curse.

Naia gasped. Darius tried to move forward, but his restraints yanked him back.

I spun, aiming a kick at the second guard, but something heavy struck the back of my head.

Pain exploded through my skull.

My vision blurred, knees buckling as the world tilted. Hands grabbed me. My body was yanked forward, my wrists slammed into cold metal.

The cuffs snapped shut.

I thrashed, but the silver burned, making my muscles go weak. A paralyzing heat spread through my veins.

Naia was screaming now. "Let her go!"

She lunged at the bars, fists slamming against them.

"Someone shut her up," the auctioneer muttered.

One of the guards yanked her back. She fought, teeth bared, nails clawing at their arms.

"Where are you taking her?!" she demanded. "You can’t—"

A backhand silenced her.

My rage surged like wildfire.

"You bastards!" I shouted, straining against my chains.

The auctioneer sighed. "Take her away."

I barely had time to see Naia curled on the floor, trembling, Darius clenching his fists in silent fury—before I was dragged from the cage.

The hallway was narrow and suffocating, lit only by flickering torches along the stone walls.

I dug my heels into the ground. I wouldn’t go down quietly.

The guards tightened their grips. One yanked my arm so hard I thought it would pop from its socket.

"You’re putting on quite a show," the auctioneer mused as he walked beside us. "Careful, buyers love a fighter."

I turned my glare on him. "They won’t love me when I rip their throats out."

He laughed. "Oh, they’ll break you before you ever get the chance."

My stomach churned, but I didn’t let him see it.

The corridor opened into a vast underground chamber. And then I saw it.

A stage.

A massive platform lit by golden chandeliers, encased in a dome of iron bars. The air was thick with the scent of wolves, sweat, expensive cigars, and blood.

Beyond the stage, rows of masked figures sat in velvet chairs. Their eyes gleamed beneath their masks, watching the wolves displayed like property.

I felt sick.

I wasn’t the first to be sold tonight.

On the platform, a man kneeled with his head bowed, shirtless, his back covered in fresh lash marks.

"A fine Beta male!" a voice boomed. "Strong, obedient, and trained in combat! The bidding starts at one million!"

I looked away just as the first bid rang out.

Another voice called out, "Do you have any females left?"

The auctioneer grinned. "We have one more. The rarest gem of all."

His gaze slid to me.

"Bring her to the stage."

The Auction Begins

The moment I was shoved onto the platform, the murmuring in the crowd intensified.

I felt their gazes crawling over me, assessing me like a prize to be won.

I stood rigid, fists clenched.

"Lot 47," the auctioneer announced. "A special rogue from the fallen Bloodmoon Pack. Untouched. Unclaimed."

A ripple of excitement ran through the bidders.

I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood.

"She’s got fire in her, this one," the auctioneer continued, circling me like a vulture. "A real challenge. And if there’s one thing Alphas love, it’s a challenge."

The first bid came immediately.

"Ten million."

"Twenty-five million."

A pause. Then—

"Fifty million."

I forced my breathing to stay even. Every number felt like a chain wrapping tighter around my throat.

"Is this really happening? Is this how it ends?"

A hand shot up in the front row. "Seventy-five million."

My stomach twisted.

Then—

A deep, calm voice cut through the room.

"Two hundred million."

The chamber fell into stunned silence.

Every head turned toward the bidder.

He sat in the shadows, legs spread lazily, fingers tapping against his armrest.

Even without seeing his face, I felt his presence like a storm waiting to break.

The auctioneer’s smug grin widened.

"Ah. Alpha Damian. I should have known you’d take interest in this one."

I stiffened.

The auctioneer turned back to the crowd. "Any further bids?"

No one spoke.

My pulse pounded.

Just like that, it was decided.

I belonged to him now.