My eyes snapped open, panic surging through me like ice in my veins. I didn’t need to look around to know something was very wrong.
I tried to move only to realize I couldn’t.
I was locked in a sitting position, completely restrained. The moment I struggled, something cold and metallic bit deeper into my arms, making me wince. My legs were trapped. My neck was immobile. Even my forehead was pinned down by some unseen force, keeping my head frozen in place.
I couldn’t shift. Couldn’t scream. Could barely breathe.
My eyes darted frantically through the darkness, but it was useless. There was nothing but pitch black. My fingers twitched against the restraints, weak and trembling as fear sank deeper into my bones.
I raise my eyes, when I caught visible hues in my periphery. I narrowed my eyes to at least catch something, anything that would give me an idea of the hell that I now found myself.
My eyes slowly adjusted, vision sharpening to take in thr shapes in the darkness.
My heart leapt into my throat.
I was not alone... not even close.
There were rows and rows of people seating in front of me. All unmoving, faceless. But I would be a fool not to know they could see me and were staring right at me.
My skin prickled with horror so acute, bile rose in my throat. I opened my mouth to let out a sound but of course, I was gagged.
The silence was far more eerie now knowing that there were so many people here with me, none uttering a sound. Simply staring right at me.
A sudden burst of blinding light flooded the room, and my heart nearly launched out of my chest.
I flinched instinctively, the searing brightness burning into my eyes after so long in the dark. But the restraints held fast, forcing me to absorb every agonizing second of exposure.
Now I could see them. All of them.
Rows upon rows of people seated in a towering amphitheater — faces obscured by masks of gold, ivory, and obsidian. All were clad in red hoods. Others tilted their heads as if intrigued. None of them moved. They just stared. Watching. Waiting.
A voice crackled over the speakers, smooth and theatrical, the kind that slithered across your skin like something oily and cold.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice boomed, cheerful and cruel all at once, "welcome... to the Midnight Lycan Auction."
My stomach turned. I tried to scream again, thrashing harder, but the gag silenced me. The iron restraints dug deeper into my wrists and ankles, until I felt warm blood pooling beneath the cuffs.
"Tonight, we are honored to present a specimen of rare... pedigree."
Footsteps echoed. They circled behind me.
Then a man stepped into view. Well-dressed. Smiling. His face hidden behind a silver half-mask shaped like a wolf’s snarl. His clothes were pristine and luxurious, pearls beads that gleamed on every surface of his tuxedo.
My stomach twisted painfully.
He stopped beside me and placed a gloved hand gently on my arm. I recoiled, or tried to, but I couldn’t move.
"This one," he said, loud enough for the crowd, "was a challenge to acquire. But you know how we pride ourselves on exclusivity."
He reached down. With a press of a button, one of my arms was released with a soft click. Before I could react, he yanked it upward, displaying my forearm like a trophy.
I thrashed, but he held it firm. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ noveⅼfire.net
"Ah. There it is..." he said, admiring my skin as though he were unveiling a masterpiece.
He turned my arm slowly under the spotlight, revealing the faint, unmistakable glow of my tattoo.
Why the hell was it glowing now!
A collective gasp rippled through the room, like a wave of hunger barely contained.
"Yes, yes. I see you recognize it. It’s been a while since one of these crossed the veil into Umbra, our world," he purred, voice vibrating with greed. "A genuine Marked one, bearing the Lunar Crest."
The crowd leaned forward, some clutching data pads, others whispering behind fans and veils.
"Let’s start the bidding," he said, releasing my arm and patting my head mockingly. "Opening price: ten million dollars."
The room erupted into a frenzy of raised paddles, glowing numbers, flashing signals. The amphitheater flickered with gold-lit bidding screens and silent gestures — predators in couture, cloaked in opulence, bidding on me like I was meat.
"Ten point five million," a deep voice announced from somewhere to my left. "Eleven," another purred. Feminine. Laced with sadism. "Twelve million. And I want her conditioned."
My body trembled. My breathing turned shallow as the bidding climbed higher. I yanked against the restraints, frantic now, my freed hand trying to tear at the gag, at anything...
But before I could even reach it, the masked man was behind me again, clicking the restraint back into place. I was locked down once more.
"Don’t ruin the merchandise," he murmured, soft enough that only I could hear.
"One hundred million dollars."
The voice cut through the cacophony like a blade.
Deep. Rugged. Dangerous.
The room froze. Every masked head turned toward the source, a man seated in the lower VIP section, posture casual, like he hadn’t just dropped an obscene amount of money without blinking.
If the moment weren’t so vile, I might’ve laughed.
Never thought I was worth that much.
The auctioneer chuckled excitedly. "It appears we may have our winner, ladies and gentlemen..."
"Two hundred million."
The voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. It carried, clear and calm, so self assured.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
The masked crowd stirred again, murmurs rising like a brewing storm.
"Two hundred and fifty million," the first bidder snapped, suddenly tense. His voice wasn’t so relaxed anymore. A edge had crept into it..
"Three hundred and fifty," the order replied calm, untouched by the tension that saturated the air enough to choke.
"Half a billion," the first voice barked, his mask slipping for just a second. Arrogance laced with desperation.
Even the auctioneer hesitated this time.
"Well... well," he said, eyes gleaming behind his mask. "We have ourselves a war, don’t we?"
The tension hung thick.
Then came the whisper that shattered it all...
"One billion dollars," Vladimir said simply.
The room went dead silent.
Not a breath. Not a whisper. Not a single flutter of a paddle.
The auctioneer gaped. For the first time, he faltered. He stared up toward the high balcony box where the man I found wore the mask of a ivory wolf sat in shadow, one hand resting casually on the armrest.
Then he straightened, cleared his throat, and laughed.
The gavel hit the podium like a gunshot.
"To the Alpha of Wintercrest. The High Alpha."
I had been bought by an... Alpha?