Chapter 11. Sold

**Stella's POV**

I lift my chin, refusing to cower. "I'm just talking."

"Talking." He steps into the cell, and I can smell stale beer and cigarettes on his breath. "That's funny. Because it sounded an awful lot like you were telling the other girls to fight back and resist."

"So what if I was?"

His smile widens. "So, little Omega, I'm going to teach you a lesson about what happens to mouthy bitches in my den."

Before I can react, he lunges forward and grabs my arm. I try to pull away, but he's too strong. His fingers dig into my skin hard enough to bruise.

"Let me go—"

"Shut up." He yanks me toward him, and I smell something sharp and chemical. "You want to fight so bad? Fine. Let's see how brave you are after this."

Something pricks my neck again.

Fuck!!! He's drugging me again.

"No—" I try to fight, but my limbs are already going numb. The room tilts. "No, please—"

"Don't worry," he says, his voice fading in and out. "You'll wake up eventually. Somewhere much less comfortable."

The darkness swallows me whole.

When I wake up again, everything is different.

I'm not in the cell anymore.

I'm chained to a wall.

My wrists are locked in metal cuffs attached to chains bolted into concrete while my arms are stretched above my head, forcing me to stand on my toes to keep the pressure off my shoulders.

There's a gag in my mouth that tastes like dirt and makes me want to vomit.

And I'm still wearing nothing but the cheap lingerie.

'Stella!' Piper's voice is panicked. 'Stella, what happened? Where are we?'

I try to answer, but the gag muffles everything to incomprehensible sounds.

This room is small, dark with no windows too.

'We need to get out,' Piper says desperately. 'We need to—'

A sound outside the door makes us both freeze.

Footsteps follow and then the door opens.

A different rogue walks in—younger than the first one, with greasy hair and hungry eyes that make my skin crawl.

"Hey there, pretty girl," he says, closing the door behind him. "Boss said you needed to learn your place."

I make a muffled sound of protest behind the gag.

He walks closer, his eyes traveling down my body in a way that makes me want to scrub my skin raw.

"You know," he says conversationally, "I could make this easier for you. All you have to do is cooperate. Be a good girl. And maybe I'll tell the boss you learned your lesson so that he takes you to the others."

He reaches out and runs his hand down my arm.

I jerk away violently, the chains rattling.

He laughs. "Still got some fight in you, huh? That's fine. I like it when they struggle."

Terror floods through me, hot and sharp.

He's going to—

No.

I force the panic down and make myself think.

I'm chained. Gagged. Half-naked and weak from the rejection.

But I'm not helpless.

My legs are free. And he's standing close.

If I can get him closer and make him think I'm giving up—maybe I can kick him hard in between his legs enough to hurt him so that I can get the keys with my legs and free myself and then escape.

It's a desperate plan.

But it's all I have.

I let my body sag in the chains, making small whimpering sounds behind the gag.

His smile widens. "There you go. That's better."

He steps closer, his hands reaching for the gag. "Let's get this off you, yeah? I want to hear you moan—"

The door slams open again.

The first rogue—the one who drugged me—stands in the doorway, his expression thunderous.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he snarls.

The younger rogue jerks back. "I—Boss said to teach her a lesson—"

"Boss said to keep her locked up until the auction. Not fuck her." He grabs the younger rogue by the collar and shoves him toward the door. "Get out. Now."

The younger rogue stumbles out, shooting me one last hungry look before disappearing.

The first rogue turns to me, his jaw tight. "You're lucky, little Omega. You're worth more untouched than smelling like him."

Then he's gone too, the door slamming shut behind him.

I'm alone again.

Chained. Gagged. Shaking with fear and rage.

I need a plan to get out of here fast...

Hours pass but eventually, the door opens again.

This time it's the first rogue, along with two others I don't recognize.

"Auction's starting," he announces. "Time to get you ready."

They unchain me, and I collapse immediately. My legs won't hold me. My shoulders scream in agony from being stretched for so long.

But they don't give me time to recover. Just yank the gag out of my mouth and drag me down a hallway.

I try to fight, but my body won't cooperate. The rejection, the drugs, the hours chained up—it's all taken too much out of me.

They pull me into a large room.

And I freeze.

It's full of wolves. Dozens of them. Some I recognize from pack gatherings—Alphas, Betas, warriors from various territories.

They're all here to buy us.

Girls are lined up along one wall, all dressed in cheap lingerie like mine. Some are crying. Others are catatonic, their eyes empty.

They drag me to the line and shove me between two other girls.

"Stay here," one of the rogues growls. "Don't move. Don't speak. And when your number's called, you walk onto that stage and smile. Got it?" He hands me a piece of paper with a number on it.

I look at it but don't answer.

He grabs my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "I said, got it?"

"Yes," I whisper hoarsely.

He releases me and walks away.

I look around the room, my heart pounding.

There are so many of them. So many buyers.

How will I escape now???

The auction begins.

They call the first girl. She's younger than me, maybe nineteen. She stumbles onto the stage, her eyes glazed from drugs.

The bidding is fast and brutal.

She sells for eight thousand dollars.

The second girl goes for twelve thousand.

Then they call my number.

"Number thirteen!" the auctioneer shouts. "Fresh rejection. Omega. Perfect for breeding or personal use."

Rough hands shove me forward.

I stumble onto the stage, the harsh lights blinding after the darkness of the holding room.

I can feel their eyes on me. Dozens of hungry, cruel gazes traveling over my half-naked body.

My stomach turns.

"Let's start the bidding at ten thousand," the auctioneer announces.

"Ten!" someone shouts immediately.

"Fifteen!"

"Twenty!"

The numbers climb higher and higher. I stand there, frozen, as they auction off my life like I'm cattle.

"Thirty thousand!" a rogue in the front row yells.

"Forty!"

"Fifty!"

The bidding goes on and on. I stop listening, my mind shutting down to protect itself.

This is really happening.

I'm going to be sold and will never see my pups again.

Someone's going to buy me, take me, use me—

"Ten million."

The voice cuts through the room like a blade.

Everything goes absolute silent.

I blink, my brain trying to process what I just heard.

Did someone just say ten million?

The auctioneer's jaw drops. "I—did you say ten million dollars?"

"Yes." The voice comes from one of the private booths in the back. The voice is deep, cold and utterly emotionless. "Ten million." he repeats

I squint toward the booth, trying to see who's speaking.

All I can make out is a silhouette of broad massive shoulders, . He's sitting in shadow, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.

I can also see his large hands covered in tattoos that snake up his forearms and disappear into the darkness.

But his face? Hidden completely in a shadow but I can tell he is huge and dangerous from the aura he is emitting.

And he just bid ten million dollars.

For me.

"I—" The auctioneer clears his throat. "Ten million is... quite the bid, sir. Are you certain?"

"Do I look uncertain?" The voice is flat and bored almost like he bids ten million on women every day.

The auctioneer swallows hard. "Does anyone wish to counter?"

Silence responds to him.

I know no one's stupid enough to bid against someone with that kind of money.

"Sold!" the auctioneer finally announces, his voice shaking slightly. "To the gentleman in booth seven for ten million dollars."

My knees buckle.

I hit the stage hard, the world tilting, blurring, and shrinking around the number echoing in my skull.

Ten million.

Some stranger hidden in that booth just bought me for ten million dollars.

My stomach twists. Relief fights terror, and terror wins. No one spends that kind of money on an Omega out of kindness. No one.

Whoever he is… he is powerful. Rich. Dangerous.

And now he owns me.

My pulse stutters, breath catching as the guards step forward.

Oh Goddess… what kind of monster paid that much just to get his hands on me?