Chapter 5

Scarlet's POV

The cage was too small. My knees pressed into my chest, and the rope around my wrists burned every time I shifted, even just a little. My arms had long gone numb, but the pain always came back if I moved too much. The metal bars were cold. So cold that it even penetrated my bones.

The red velvet curtain lifted, and with it, the roar of drunken voices crashed into me like a wave of the ocean. I didn’t lift my head. I couldn't. The light was too bright, the stench of sweat and smoke too strong. I blinked, slowly, as if refusing to exist fully in this moment.

A man’s voice boomed above the noise.

“Gentlemen! You’ve all been waiting for this one... untouched, unmated, and rejected nine times. A true rarity. A born omega.”

His announcement was followed by loud laughter, cheers and shouts of prices. He said I was untouched, if my buyer found out I was pregnant, what would happen to my child?

“She is a submissive who is already broken from her recent rejection. Perfect for obedience.”

Something in my chest splintered at that. As much as I hated what was being said about me, they were right.

I couldn’t remember when I last fought back. Maybe it was after the fifth rejection. Or the sixth, when I’d tried to shift and run, only to collapse in the woods, my wolf too weak to even cry. I think that was when I stopped hoping. Until Caleb came along. But I wish I hadn't believed him from the start because now all I felt was despair and pain.

The auctioneer kicked the cage. The clang of his boot hitting the bars made me flinch. Laughter rippled through the crowd again. I became smaller, folding into myself, shaking without sound. My long hair had fallen over my face, shielding me from their eyes, but I could still feel them, leering and stripping my clothes off with their gazes.

"Look at her," someone shouted. "I want to see her eyes before I bid."

I shut them tighter. No. No. No. Caleb. Please save me. 

The cage door creaked open, and I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. I didn’t fight. I let him yank my head up so they could see the dull, empty brown of my eyes.

“Pathetic little bitch,” someone muttered. “She’s perfect.”

A low bid rang out.

“$1000” 

“$3500..”

Another. And another. They were fighting over me like I was meat. But I felt nothing. 

I used to dream of being claimed by my mate, of being protected and loved. I used to think the Moon Goddess had something in store for me, that each rejection was a test.

But now I knew the truth. There was no destiny for me. No fated love.

I was created with the body of an omega. A body built for the pleasure of the others who were stronger. All my life I had fought against that life wanting nothing but someone to protect and love. And I was so very, very tired.

“Thirty thousand.”

The voice cut through the noise in my mind and in the room. It wasn’t shouted like the others. It was calm, low, and confident. And it silenced the crowd instantly.

I didn’t dare lift my head, but I felt it. The stillness. The way the air changed. Like every soul in the room just remembered who they weren’t allowed to challenge.

The auctioneer straightened, his tone shifting immediately. He looked like he could kiss the ass of the buyer if he told him to. The greasy eagerness was replaced by stiff respect.

“Thirty thousand, gentlemen. Going once… going twice...”

No one else dared speak.

“Sold.”

The clapping started slowly, building to a full-blown applause. The kind you hear in royal courts or expensive operas. They were applauding someone being sold. I stayed frozen. This was the inhumane world I was going to bring my child into?

The cage door opened again. Heavy boots stopped in front of me. Then came the cold click of metal. I heard it before I felt it. A collar locked around my neck, snug and almost choking me.

My breath hitched. No. Please, no.

Only one kind of creature in this room had the power to silence a crowd with a single number. Only one species could spend thirty thousand on an omega like me without blinking. A Lycan.

My body started to shake. First my legs, then my shoulders. The tears came slowly, crawling out from under my lashes like they didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t sob. I couldn’t even manage that. 

The auctioneer bent down, trying to look proud. “Congratulations, sir. She’s all yours.”

My new “owner” didn’t say anything.

They always said being given to the Lycans was a death sentence. Not because they would kill you, but because you would wish they had.

They didn’t follow our rules. They didn’t believe in pity. They believed in power, in dominance, in ownership. They saw werewolves like me as mutts, half-evolved creatures bred for servitude. And now I belonged to one.

A firm tug on the collar forced me forward onto my knees.

I whimpered as they pulled me up, out of the cage, my knees buckling from being in one position for a long time. I stumbled, hands still tied behind me, head down, trying to stop the sobs from turning into screams.

So this was it.

This was the life I was made for.

As I cried pitifully, a shadow loomed over me. I didn’t need to look up to know it was him. The one who bought me. 

He crouched in front of me as if in slow motion. I could feel the heat of his body even without touching him, hot and sharp like a fire too close to the skin.

Then his hand moved. Gently, almost mockingly, he ran his fingers through my tangled hair. I flinched, hard, my breath hitching in my throat. Every nerve in my body lit up in alarm, instinct screaming at me to run even though I couldn’t. I stayed still, trembling, like a lamb for slaughter.

"Easy now," he murmured in a smooth voice. “No need to be scared… yet.”

His fingers stilled, then fisted my hair without warning, yanking my head back so fast I gasped. My eyes flew open, meeting his.

Red. Blood red. These were Lycan eyes and they looked… Hungry and soulless. Oh Goddess.

The collar around my neck tightened as he tugged it just enough to remind me what I was now.

“I like the look in your eyes,” he said, lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “That hollow, cracked little stare. It means I don’t have to break you.”

My lips parted, but no sound came. He leaned closer, and I smelled blood on his skin. 

“You’ll make a very good slave,” he whispered, like he was telling me a secret. “Better than the last one. She screamed too much… and broke too quickly.”

My stomach twisted violently, bile rising in my throat.

He smiled wider, standing to his full height and tugging the leash attached to my collar like I was a pet. .

“I do hope you last longer, omega. I paid good money for you.”