Auction Proposal

Zina's POV

The club was buzzing with life, the kind of energy that made you feel alive and out of place all at once. Laughter and soft murmurs floated through the air, mixing with the faint hum of sultry music. My heels clicked against the polished floor as Jared guided me back toward the main hall, his hand warm and steady on the small of my back.

Every step felt heavier than the last, my thoughts spinning. I couldn't shake the memory of the hallway—the sounds, the sights, the way my body had betrayed me. Shame burned at my cheeks, but Jared walked beside me like nothing had happened, like my entire world hadn't just shifted.

"You're awfully quiet," Jared said, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but I could feel the teasing edge in his voice.

"I'm fine," I muttered, keeping my eyes fixed on the crowd ahead.

"Liar," he said with a smirk, his fingers brushing against my back.

Before I could respond, a tall man stepped into our path. He was broad-shouldered and confident, with piercing green eyes that locked onto me instantly. His smile was warm, but there was something calculating in his gaze that made my stomach twist.

"Jared," the man greeted, extending a hand for a firm handshake.

"Ethan," Jared replied, his voice neutral but respectful.

"And you must be Zina," Ethan said, turning his attention fully to me. His smile widened, and I felt my pulse quicken under his scrutiny.

"Hi," I said softly, unsure of what else to say.

Ethan chuckled lightly, his gaze lingering. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Jared's been keeping you to himself all night, hasn't he?"

Jared's hand on my back tightened slightly, his voice calm but firm. "She's not one for crowds."

"Understandable," Ethan said, nodding. "But I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to extend an invitation, Zina. Tonight, we're hosting a charity auction, and I think you'd be perfect for it."

"An auction?" I echoed, confused.

Ethan nodded. "Yes. It's for a good cause—raising funds for medical treatment for children in need within the pack. Participants volunteer their time, and the highest bidder gets a chance to spend a moment with them."

I blinked, trying to process what he was saying. "You want me to…be part of it?"

"Only if you're comfortable," Ethan said quickly, his tone reassuring. "There's no pressure. But I think you'd make quite an impression. The funds raised tonight could make a real difference."

I glanced at Jared, hoping for some kind of reaction, but his expression was unreadable. He was watching me, waiting to see what I'd do.

"I don't know…" I hesitated, my voice trailing off.

Ethan stepped closer, his gaze earnest. "I understand this might be outside your comfort zone, but it's for a noble cause. And with Jared by your side, I'm sure you'll feel at ease."

I bit my lip, torn between my nerves and the desire to do something meaningful. The idea of standing in front of a crowd, being auctioned off like some prize, made my stomach churn. But the thought of helping those children pulled at my heart.

"I'll do it," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan's face lit up with gratitude. "Wonderful! Meet me backstage in ten minutes, and I'll walk you through everything."

As Ethan walked away, I turned to Jared, feeling a mix of anxiety and frustration. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Jared's lips curled into a smirk. "I wanted to see what you'd decide."

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "And?"

"And you surprised me," he said simply.

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him, but his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Zina."

I looked back at him, my heart skipping at the intensity in his gaze.

"You don't have to do this," he said softly. "If you're uncomfortable, just say the word, and I'll take care of it."

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—concern? Vulnerability? I wasn't sure. But it was enough to make me stand a little taller.

"I want to do it," I said firmly.

Jared nodded, his smirk returning. "Then let's make sure you shine."

---

Backstage, the sounds of the auction were muffled but still loud enough to send my nerves spiraling. Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd every few minutes, and I could feel the weight of what I'd agreed to pressing down on me.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on my dress. The sleek fabric hugged my curves, and I couldn't decide if I felt confident or exposed.

"You look nervous," Jared's voice came from behind me, low and calm.

I met his gaze in the mirror. "That's because I am."

He stepped closer, his hands resting on my shoulders. "You've got this," he said, his voice steady.

"What if I mess up? What if no one bids on me?" I blurted out, the words spilling from my lips before I could stop them.

Jared chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Trust me, Zina. They'll bid."

I turned to face him, searching his eyes for reassurance. "How do you know?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because you're unforgettable."

My cheeks flushed, and I looked away, unsure of how to respond.

Before I could say anything else, Ethan appeared, clipboard in hand. "Zina, you're up next," he said with a smile.

My heart jumped into my throat. "Already?"

Ethan nodded, motioning for me to follow him. Jared gave my hand a quick squeeze before letting go, his smirk firmly in place.

"Good luck," he said, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper.

I followed Ethan to the edge of the stage, my palms damp and my legs trembling. The auctioneer's voice boomed through the speakers, announcing my name, and the crowd erupted into applause.

The spotlight hit me like a wave, blinding and overwhelming. I forced a smile, stepping onto the stage with as much grace as I could muster.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer said, his voice smooth and confident, "we have a truly special participant tonight. Let's start the bidding!

"Ten thousand," a dark voice calls from the floor, and I spin in surprise, searching for the source.

 

The man in black winks at me as he takes a sip of his drink. My body floods with heat. This man will pay ten grand to spend an hour with me. Will he be disappointed if I don't have sex with him? Surely, he must know he's just winning my company. I can't sleep with him. Jared wouldn't let that happen…would he?

 

"Ten thousand for Alpha. Kade. Do I hear eleven thousand?"

 

Movement in the back of the room catches my attention, and I squint through the spotlight to see Jared raise a hand. We lock eyes for a long, tense moment. He has to win. What if Alpha. Kade outbids him? I'm trying not to let my panic show, but I'm shivering in my heels up here. Why would he do this to me?

"Mr. Jared for eleven thousand," the man calls.

 

"Fifteen," the man up front barks.

 

"Twenty," Jared replies. I can barely move as the men volley back and forth, the room thick with tension as they continuously outbid each other. When the man in black shouts fifty with a smug grin on his face, I want to cry. I'm about two seconds away from telling them to stop. I'm not worth this much money. They can't possibly be willing to pay this much for me.

I'm not worth it.

I shake my head at Jared, making it so subtle I hope no one notices, but I think I might lose it if he actually coughs up over fifty thousand dollars just for an hour with me.

 

"Please, don't," I whisper, although no one can hear me. I know he can read the words on my lips.

 

He clenches his jaw and glares at me in anger.

 

The man in black looks back at Jared, waiting for him to bid. I cover my cheeks, praying that this will end. I'm nobody, not nearly as sexy as the women that came up before me or half as beautiful or as interesting as them. How can he just throw away money like that?

 

"Fifty thousand, going once…"

 

"Seventy-five," Jared says, staring at me as if he's angry at me. My eyes are wide as saucers, and I must be pale as a ghost.

 

The man in black laughs loudly. "You're worth every penny, sweetheart, but I think Mr. Jared wants you to himself."

 

I'm still staring at Jared with my mouth hanging open, trying to wrap my head around seventy-five grand.

 

"Sold!" the announcer yells. "For seventy-five thousand dollars to business typhoon, Jared Blackstone!" The crowd begins to cheer,  Before I know what's happening, I watch Jared march toward me, looking more irritated than elated at his win. Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong?

 

"I'm—I'm…sorry," I stammer as he takes me by the hand and tosses me over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

 

The reactions around us are a mixture of laughter and cheers as I'm hoisted across the room and over his shoulder.

What did I do now?