Chapter 1 - The Auction

ARIA'S POV

The chains were too tight. They always were. The handlers liked to make the humans wince, liked to hear the scrape of iron digging into bone, as though pain made us look more valuable. I kept my head bowed, eyes fixed on the filthy floorboards of the auction pens. That was the first lesson drilled into every slave girl: don't look, don't hope, don't think.

But that night, the air felt different. The room hummed with something sharp, alive, like blood just before it spilled.

One by one, the other girls were dragged out. I heard the jeers of wolves beyond the curtains, the bark of bids shouted over one another, the whipcrack of the auctioneer's voice. Laughter, too. Always laughter. Wolves laughed at us the way men laughed at livestock.

"Next," the guard snarled, yanking my chain. I stumbled, knees scraping the wood. My dress, thin gray linen, torn at the hem, clung to my knees with sweat.

The curtain parted, and light blinded me.

The stage was a pit of eyes. Dozens of wolves, mostly Alphas and Betas, sat in rows of crude benches. The air reeked of leather and fur, musk and smoke. The auctioneer, a fat man with wolf tattoos down his arms, gripped my chin and jerked my face up.

"Human female, twenty summers. Strong hips, good mouth, fertile. Untouched. Start the bidding at fifty marks."

The laughter rose again, sharp and ugly.

"She looks half-starved."

"Won't last a season."

"Fifty's too high for that scrap."

My stomach knotted. Sometimes, if the wolves saw no use for you, they sent you back. And "back" meant the pits. Humans didn't survive the pits.

The auctioneer bared his teeth in something like a smile. "Don't let the bones fool you. The breeder pens feed them lean. Less meat, more value when the pups take."

My blood ran cold.

Breeder.

I knew the word. We all did. Breeders didn't serve in kitchens. They didn't clean floors or scrub boots. They were bought for one purpose, locked in a bed until they swelled with pups. Wolves needed heirs, and wolves bred true only when the bloodlines were strong. Humans, though weaker, were useful. Our wombs stretched. Our bodies bent. And we didn't have a say.

The crowd stilled. The air shifted. A presence slid over the room, heavy as shadow. My skin prickled. Even before I saw him, I felt him.

The Alpha of Ironfang Pack had arrived.

Caelan Black.

The name alone stilled wolves mid-sentence. They called him merciless, blood-drunk, cursed. The Alpha who tore the throat of his own father to take the throne. The Alpha who burned three villages to the ground when rogues stole from his territory. The Alpha who never took a mate, never crowned a Luna, never allowed weakness near his bed.

And he was looking at me.

My heart kicked.

Caelan was nothing like the other wolves, the smug Betas, the laughing Alphas. He didn't smirk. Didn't even blink. He just stared, golden eyes cutting through the haze of smoke like twin blades. His hair was dark, cropped short, his jaw rough with stubble. A scar carved down the side of his throat like a brand.

When he spoke, the entire hall fell silent.

"I'll take her."

The auctioneer faltered. "Alpha Black, the bidding hasn't—"

Caelan's gaze didn't leave mine. "Double the starting price. Now."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Fifty marks was already steep. A hundred for a human girl? Madness.

But no one argued.

The auctioneer swallowed, his greasy forehead shining. "Sold, then, to Alpha Caelan Black."

The chain jerked me forward, down the stage, into the shadow where Caelan waited. His hand closed around my collar, one hand, nothing more, and suddenly the chain was gone, the world was gone, and it was just him, dragging me close enough to smell the leather and iron on his clothes.

He leaned down, his lips a breath from my ear.

"You're mine now, little human."

The words shattered something inside me.

I thrashed. Spat at him. "I'll never be yours!"

A dangerous silence followed. I heard wolves murmur in shock. The other girls never spoke back, not once.

Caelan's mouth curved in something too sharp to be a smile. "We'll see."

He dragged me from the hall, my feet scraping the dirt, the wolves parting like prey from a predator. Outside, the night air was colder than I remembered. The stars were sharp, cruel pinpricks in a black sky.

Ironfang wolves waited with horses, dark cloaks whipping in the wind. Caelan threw me over a saddle like I weighed nothing.

"Alpha," one Beta muttered, uneasy. "Why her? She's only human—"

Caelan's growl silenced him. "She's mine now. That's all that matters."

The ride was long, brutal, endless. Each step of the horse bruised my ribs. Every time I shifted, the chain at my throat tightened. I refused to cry. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.

But when we reached Ironfang territory, high stone walls, black towers spearing the sky, something inside me broke. This wasn't just a pack house. It was a fortress. There would be no running from this place.

The wolves dismounted. Torches burned along the gates, throwing the pack sigil, a snarling wolf, into the night.

Caelan dismounted last. He pulled me from the saddle, his grip rough, unrelenting. I kicked, fought, clawed at him until my nails split. He didn't flinch. He just hauled me inside, through halls lined with stone and firelight, past wolves who bowed their heads but stared at me with open disgust.

At last, we stopped before a heavy iron door. He threw it open. A chamber spread before us, furs, shadows, the faint musk of wolf. A bed dominated the center, too wide, too soft, too ominous.

My stomach twisted. I knew what this room meant.

Caelan closed the door behind us. For the first time, we were alone.

He released me. I stumbled back, heart pounding so loud I could barely hear his voice when he spoke.

"You think you'll fight me," he said softly, almost conversationally. "That you'll resist, spit, claw, make me bleed. Good. I like my pets wild. They break sweeter."

I bared my teeth. "I'll die before I let you touch me."

His gaze darkened. Not anger. Hunger.

"Then you'll die in my bed!” he growled.