AMBER EYES THAT CALLS ME HE'S

CHAPTER ONE:

Elena's Pov

The phone rings at 2 AM.

I know it's bad before Marcus even answers it. Good news doesn't call at this hour.

I'm in my room, trying to finish an essay that's due tomorrow, when I hear his voice through the thin walls.

"I told you I'd have it by the end of the month...please, just give me more time..."

My stomach drops.

I've heard this conversation before. Different creditors, same desperation. But there's something in his voice tonight that's worse than usual.

Terror.

"No...no, you can't...I have the money, I swear, I just need..."

I get up quietly, press my ear to the door.

"Please. I'm begging you. There has to be another way."

He was silent for a while, probably listening to whoever's on the other end.

Then, "Collateral? What kind of collateral?"

My blood runs cold.

"She's...she's just a girl. My niece. She's nobody, just an omega..."

No

No

"How much would that cover?"

I'm already backing away from the door, looking at my window. Second floor. I could jump. But before I could think, his next word caught me off guard

"The whole debt? You're sure?"

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grip the window frame.

"When?" He paused. "Tonight? But...yes. Yes, I understand."

The call ends.

I hear him coming up the stairs.

My window's stuck. Paint sealed it shut last winter and I never fixed it. I'm yanking at it, desperate, when my door opens.

Marcus stands there. Won't meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Elena."

"Uncle Marcus, please..."

"It's you or me." His voice is flat, emotionless, to say the least "They're coming for you. Should be here in twenty minutes."

"You can't...you can't just give me to them..."

"Watch me."

He closes the door. I hear the lock click from the outside.

I throw myself at the window. Pull until my fingers bleed. It won't budge.

I scream. Pound on the door. "Someone help me! Please!"

But we live in the middle of nowhere. No neighbors close enough to hear.

I should have ran when I had the chance. I should have left when he made it a point of duty to gamble away every money I earned from my shift

I should have seen the signs when he forced me to work, making me miss classes at school

But I guess I was too focused on the fact that he is family to see how toxic he was to me

Nineteen minutes later, I hear cars pulling up outside.

The door to my room opens.

Marcus stands there with two men I've never seen before. Large, professional looking. The kind of men who break bones for a living.

"That's her," Marcus says. "Elena Reeves. Twenty years old. Omega wolf. She's healthy, I keep her on suppressants so she won't be any trouble."

One of the men looks me over like I'm livestock. "She'll do."

"Wait..." I back against the wall. "Please, I didn't do anything wrong..."

"But your uncle did. Your uncle owes our employer a considerable sum," the man says calmly. "You're payment."

"I'm a person! You can't just..."

"We can. We are." He nods to his partner. "Secure her."

I run.

Stupid, I know. Where am I going to go? But instinct takes over and I bolt for the door.

I make it three steps before hands grab me.

I fight, screamed, claw at them with my pathetic omega strength.

"Feisty," one of them comments. "They'll like that."

"No! Let me go! Marcus, please!"

My uncle is already walking away. Can't even watch what he's done.

"This will be easier if you don't fight," the man holding me says, almost kindly.

Then I feel the needle.

Cold spreads through my veins. My legs give out.

"Where...l" I can barely form words. "Where are you taking me?"

"Colombia. Don't worry, chica. Someone will buy you. You're young, pretty. You'll fetch a good price."

The world tilts sideways.

The last thing I see before darkness swallows me is my uncle's back as he walks away.

*******************

I wake up to the smell of concrete and despair.

My head is splitting, my mouth tastes like chemicals, and every muscle in my body screams in protest when I try to move. The ground beneath me is cold and hard.

It takes me a moment to realize I can't fully extend my legs.

My eyes snap open.

Metal bars. Concrete floor. A cage barely four feet high and five feet wide.

I'm in a cage.

Panic hits like ice water. I lurch upright and slam my head against the low ceiling. Stars explode across my vision.

"Don't do that." The voice comes from nearby. Female, tired. "You'll just hurt yourself."

I blink through the pain. I'm in a warehouse, massive, industrial, with rows and rows of cages lining the walls. Each one holds someone. Wolves, mostly, but I catch the scent of humans too. Maybe thirty of us total.

All caged like animals.

"Where..." My voice cracks. "Where am I?"

"Medellín. Colombia." The woman in the cage next to mine is thin, hollow-eyed. "The facility. They'll auction us off in the next day or two."

Auction. I can remember the men from the car ride back saying I'll fetch a good price. So that's what they meant?

"No." I grip the bars. "No, this can't...someone will come for me. The police, or..."

"Nobody's coming, honey." She sounds almost sympathetic. "You're collateral now. Property. The sooner you accept it, the easier it'll be."

"I'm not property!" My voice rises. "I'm an American citizen, I have rights..."

"Not here you don't."

I shake the bars, irrational, desperate. They don't budge. Of course they don't.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"Three weeks." She closes her eyes. "They've had two auctions since I arrived. I'm still here because I'm older. Damaged goods. You though..." She looks me over. "Young, pretty, omega. You'll go fast."

The bile rises in my throat.

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

But the cold metal against my palms says otherwise.

Time passes. I don't know how long. There are no windows, no way to tell if it's day or night. Guards walk through periodically, bringing stale bread and water. Nobody speaks to us except to bark orders.

I try not to think about Marcus. About how easily he gave me up. About the fact that I should've seen this coming, should've run years ago.

Too late now.

"When..." I start to ask the woman next to me when the auction happens, but the warehouse doors slam open.

The change is immediate.

Every guard in the room snaps to attention. The casual cruelty on their faces shifts to something like fear.

"El Rey," someone mutters.

Meaning the King.

"Don't look at him," the woman hisses. "Don't draw attention. Just..."

But I'm already looking.

Because he just walked in, and it's impossible not to look.

He's massive. That's the first thing I notice. Six-four, maybe taller, moving through the warehouse like he owns it, because he probably does.

Mid-forties, wearing a black suit that probably costs more than my college tuition. Dark hair with silver at the temples. The kind of face that's all hard angles and violence.

He's speaking rapid Spanish to someone beside him, not even glancing at the cages. This is clearly routine for him. Just another day inspecting his merchandise.

My wolf stirs.

She's been barely conscious for years, suppressed by whatever Marcus was feeding me, but now she pushes against my awareness. Alert. Interested.

What the hell?

The man, El Rey, apparently, is walking down the row of cages, still talking, still not looking. He's going to walk right past me.

Then he stops.

Just... stops.

Mid-step. Mid-sentence. Like someone hit pause on him.

My wolf doesn't just stir. She explodes to life.

His head turns slowly toward my cage.

Our eyes meet.

The world fractures.

Heat slams into me, violent, overwhelming, like being hit by a truck made of fire. A pull so strong it physically hurts, like a rope around my ribs yanking me toward him. My wolf is screaming, throwing herself against my chest, howling something that sounds like yesyesyesMINE...

His eyes, dark brown, almost black, flash brilliant amber.

Wolf. Alpha.

And fixed on me like I'm the only thing in the room.

The intensity of his stare makes my skin burn. I can't breathe. Can't move. Can't do anything but stare back at this stranger who's looking at me like he knows me. Like he's been searching for me.

Like I'm his.

His expression shifts through shock, disbelief, then something darker settles over his features. Something possessive and hungry.

He says something in Spanish. Sharp. Commanding.

The warehouse erupts into motion.

"Abre la jaula," he orders, striding toward me. Open the cage.

"What...no..." I scramble backward as guards rush to unlock my cage.

"Señor De León..." someone starts.

"Ahora!" His voice cracks like a whip.

The cage door swings open. Hands grab me, and dragged me out. My legs don't work properly, whether from fear or being caged, I don't know, but they drag me upright and force me forward.

Until I'm standing five feet from him.

Up close, he's even more terrifying. Scars on his knuckles. Another near his eye. The smell of expensive cologne and something wild underneath.

He towers over me, all lethal power and barely contained violence.

And he's staring at me like I'm something precious and dangerous all at once.

"Nombre," he demands.

I can only stare, my heart hammering so hard I think it might break through my ribs.

His jaw tightens. "Your name." English this time, accent slight but present.

"Elena." It comes out barely a whisper.

"Edad. Age."

"Twenty."

Something flickers in his eyes. His jaw clenches. "Veinte años," he repeats quietly, like the words taste bitter. Twenty years.

He's silent for a long moment, just looking at me. His eyes trace my face like he's memorizing every detail. It should feel violating. Instead, it feels intimate in a way that makes me want to run.

Then he turns to the nervous man with a tablet beside him. "Cancela la subasta. Inmediatamente."

The man's eyes go wide. "Pero señor, ya hay ofertas..."

"Me importa una m****a las ofertas!" His voice doesn't rise, but the command in it makes everyone flinch. "Ella no está en venta."

She's not for sale.

"Señor De León..."

"Fuera. Ahora." Out. Now.

The man practically runs.

De León looks back at me, and there's something in his eyes that makes my stomach flip.

"What..." I have to force the words out. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him to cancel the auction." He says it simply. Matter-of-fact. "You're not being sold."

My heart stops. "What?"

He steps closer. I instinctively back up and hit a guard behind me. Trapped.

"You're coming with me," he says.

The words don't compute. "Like hell I am! You can't just..."

One of the guards moves to grab me, but De León raises a hand and the guard freezes.

"I can do whatever I want, pequeña loba." He takes another step forward. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. "But you should understand something."

"What?" I breathe.

His eyes flash amber again, and his voice drops to something dark and possessive that makes every hair on my body stand up.

"You're mine now. Fight it all you want." A pause. His gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes. "It won't change what you are to me."

"I don't even know you!"

"Todavía." Yet. He switches to Spanish, then back to English. "Mi compañera. Mi pareja."

My mate. My partner.

My wolf purrs. Actually purrs.

I want to throw up.

"I'm not...you're insane..."

He leans in, close enough that I feel his breath against my ear when he whispers: "Tell your wolf that. See if she agrees."

Then he straightens, steps back, and the professional mask slides back into place. He turns and walks toward the exit, calling over his shoulder: "Tráiganla. Con cuidado. Si tiene un rasguño, los mataré a todos."

Bring her. Carefully. If she has a scratch, I'll kill you all.

"No...wait..." I try to pull away from the guards, but their grip is iron. "You can't do this! This is kidnapping!"

He doesn't even turn around. Just keeps walking toward the sleek black cars waiting outside.

I fight. Scream. Dig my heels in.

It doesn't matter.

They drag me toward the exit, toward those cars, toward him.

"Por favor," I'm begging now, switching to broken Spanish. "Por favor, no..."

One of the guards actually looks sympathetic. "Lo siento, chica. El Rey ha elegido. No hay escapatoria."

I'm sorry, girl. The King has chosen. There's no escape.

The late afternoon sun blinds me as they pull me outside. He's already in the back of the lead car, door open, waiting.

They push me toward it.

"Get in," he says calmly.

"No."

"Elena." The way he says my name, like he's tasting it, savoring it, makes something in my stomach twist. "Get in the car, or I'll put you in it myself. Your choice."

"That's not a choice!"

"No," he agrees. "It's not."

We stare at each other. Him calm and certain. Me terrified and furious.

My wolf is still purring, the traitor.

"Why me?" I whisper. "Why are you doing this?"

Something almost soft crosses his face. "Because you're mine. And I don't leave what's mine in a cage."

Then he reaches out, grasps my wrist, gentle but inescapable, and pulls me into the car.

The door closes.

The locks click.

And as the car pulls away from the warehouse, away from the cages, away from the only escape I might've had

All I can think is that I've traded one cage for another.

Except this one has amber eyes and calls me his.