2: The Auction

Lena.

My head throbbed like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. I tried to open my eyes, but even the dim light sent sharp pains shooting through my skull. Something cold and hard pressed against my wrists. Metal. The distinct clink of chains.

Where the hell was I?

Memory came back in fragments. The library. Jake and Tyler. The humiliation. Walking home alone. A black SUV. Strange silver eyes. The chemical smell.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the discomfort. Panic surged as I realized I couldn't move my arms. They were chained behind me, attached to... a chair? I was sitting in a metal chair, my ankles similarly bound to its legs.

"She's waking up."

The deep voice came from somewhere behind me. I tried to turn my head but froze when I realized something else—I was only wearing my torn sweatshirt and underwear. My jeans were gone. My shoes were gone.

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

"P-please," I whispered, my voice raw. "What do you want? I don't have any money."

No one answered. I heard footsteps moving away, then a door closing. I was alone.

The room was dimly lit, but as my eyes adjusted, I could make out dark curtains hanging in front of me. Beyond them, I heard murmuring voices. Many voices. Men's voices.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we appreciate your patience tonight."

The voice boomed through hidden speakers, sophisticated and smooth, like a high-end auctioneer. My blood turned to ice.

"Our next offering is truly special—a pure human female, untouched, with exceptional intelligence. Perfect for those seeking a pet with both beauty and brains."

No. This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. I had to wake up.

I struggled against the chains, the metal cutting into my skin. "Help!" I screamed. "Somebody help me!"

The curtains in front of me suddenly parted, and blinding spotlights hit my face. I squinted against the glare, trying to see beyond the lights.

What I saw made no sense.

A vast room stretched before me, filled with round tables where elegantly dressed people—mostly men—sat watching me. But they weren't normal men. Their eyes... their eyes glowed in the dimness, silver and gold like animals caught in headlights.

"As you can see, she's young and healthy," the auctioneer continued from somewhere to my left. "Twenty-one years old, no physical defects, and a verified virgin. Her blood work shows she's free of disease or genetic abnormalities."

I stared in horror as a man in a crisp suit approached me, grabbing my chin to tilt my face toward the audience. "Note the clear skin, the bright eyes. She's obviously terrified, which some of you may find appealing."

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

"No!" I jerked my face away. "Let me go! What are you people?"

The auctioneer smiled, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp. "Spirited too. She'll need training, of course, but that's half the fun, isn't it, gentlemen?"

More laughter, darker this time.

"We'll start the bidding at fifty thousand."

"Sixty!" called a voice from the back.

"Seventy-five," said another.

I couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening. People were bidding on me like I was livestock.

"One hundred thousand," called a white-haired man near the front, his yellow eyes fixed hungrily on me.

"One-fifty," countered someone else.

Tears streamed down my face as the numbers climbed higher. Two hundred thousand. Three hundred thousand. These monsters—whatever they were—were fighting over who would own me.

"Please," I sobbed. "I have a family. A mother who's waiting for me. Please don't do this."

The auctioneer patted my head like I was a dog. "Hear that, gentlemen? She's begging. Imagine what else you could make her beg for."

The white-haired man stood up. "Five hundred thousand. Final offer."

"Five hundred thousand going once..."

I screamed again, thrashing against my chains. This couldn't be real. I had to wake up.

"Going twice..."

"Let. Her. Go."

The new voice cut through the room like a blade. Deep, authoritative, and cold as ice. The effect was immediate—the entire room fell silent.

The auctioneer paled visibly. "A-Alpha King, we didn't expect you tonight."

My head whipped toward the back of the room where the voice had come from. The crowd parted like water, revealing a man standing in the shadows.

He stepped forward, and even in my terrified state, I felt the air change. Power radiated from him like heat from a fire. He was tall—impossibly tall—dressed all in black, with broad shoulders and a face that could have been carved from marble. His eyes blazed silver, brighter and more intense than any others in the room.

"Clearly," he said, his gaze sweeping the silent crowd before landing on me. Something flickered across his face—disgust? Anger? I couldn't tell.

"Alpha King Volkov," the auctioneer stammered. "This is a perfectly legal auction. The human was properly acquired—"

"Kidnapped," the man—Volkov—corrected, his voice deadly quiet. "From my territory."

He moved toward the stage with the fluid grace of a predator. The other men shrunk back as he passed them, heads bowing instinctively.

"This auction is over," he announced. "Everyone out. Now."

No one argued. Within seconds, the room was emptying, men hurrying for the exits without looking back. Only the auctioneer remained, visibly trembling.

"Your Majesty, we had no idea she was from your protected zone. Please accept our deepest—"

"Silence." Volkov didn't raise his voice, but the word cracked like a whip. "You will return all other humans you've acquired. You will compensate their families. And if I ever hear of you operating in my territories again, I will personally rip out your throat. Clear?"

The auctioneer nodded frantically, backing away. "Crystal clear, Your Majesty. Thank you for your mercy."

When we were alone, Volkov finally looked directly at me. Up close, his eyes were even more inhuman—pure silver with no visible pupil, yet somehow I could feel them examining every inch of me.

"P-please," I whispered. "Don't hurt me."

Something that might have been surprise crossed his face. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He moved behind me, and I flinched when I felt his fingers on my wrists. The chains fell away with a simple twist of his hands, as if they were made of paper instead of steel.

"Can you stand?" he asked, his voice still cold but somehow gentler.

I tried to rise, but my legs buckled beneath me. Before I could hit the floor, strong arms caught me. I found myself lifted effortlessly against a hard chest, my face pressed to the expensive fabric of his suit.

"What... what are you?" I managed to ask.

He looked down at me, his expression unreadable. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Those men... their eyes..."

"A bad dream," he said firmly. "Nothing more."

He carried me through empty corridors until we reached a sleek black car waiting outside. A driver jumped out to open the door, carefully avoiding looking at either of us.

Volkov placed me in the backseat, then removed his jacket and draped it over me, covering my exposed legs. It was warm from his body and smelled like cedar and something wilder, untamed.

"Take her home," he instructed the driver. "Ensure she arrives safely."

"Wait," I said as he started to pull away. "You're not coming?"

His silver eyes met mine again. "No."

"But... who are you? Why did you help me?"

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he said, "My name is Kieran Volkov. And let's just say I don't approve of hunting in my territory."

The way he said "hunting" sent chills down my spine.

"What were they going to do to me?" I asked, though part of me didn't want to know.

Kieran's jaw tightened. "Nothing that will happen now. You're safe. My men will ensure you get home without further incident."

"Thank you," I whispered.

He gave a curt nod, then stepped back. "You won't remember the location. That's for your own protection."

Before I could ask what he meant, he closed the car door. As we drove away, I looked back through the window. Kieran Volkov stood perfectly still, watching the car depart, his tall figure growing smaller until the darkness swallowed him completely.