The Auction

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the narrow alleyways of the city into rivers of grime and despair. Luna’s bare feet splashed through muddy puddles as she was led, blindfolded and bound, to the infamous underground auction house. Her heart pounded like a war drum. She had heard whispers of this place—where lives were sold with the flick of a hand and the clink of gold. She never thought she’d end up here.

The air inside was heavy, reeking of damp stone, sweat, and something darker—fear. The blindfold was ripped away, and Luna blinked against the sudden flare of torchlight. She stood on a raised platform, surrounded by figures cloaked in opulence and shadow. Their faces were hidden behind ornate masks, but their eyes gleamed with hunger. Not for food, but for power. Control. Possession.

"Lot number 47," the auctioneer’s voice rang out. "Female. Human. Unmarked. Virgin. Spirited disposition."

Luna’s jaw clenched. Spirited? Was that the polite word they used when a girl fought tooth and nail during capture? She wanted to spit at them, but the leather strap gagged her mouth too tightly.

"Five thousand," a raspy voice barked from the left.

"Seven thousand."

"Ten."

The numbers climbed quickly. Each one chipped away at her dignity. She was no longer Luna, the healer’s daughter, the girl who used to sing in the forest. She was property now.

"Five hundred thousand," a deep, velvet voice cut through the bidding war. The room fell deathly silent.

Heads turned. Even the auctioneer paused.

A man stepped forward from the shadows. He didn’t wear a mask. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to part the crowd. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a long black coat soaked from the rain, he looked like something carved from night itself. His eyes—an impossible shade of silver—met Luna’s, locking her in place.

"Ten million," he said calmly, without blinking.

Gasps echoed. The auctioneer stuttered before slamming the gavel. "Sold! To Lord Kael of Blackmoor."

The name struck something in Luna’s mind. Blackmoor. The cursed territory. The one ruled by an Alpha who never took a mate. A man as feared as he was powerful.

Kael moved toward her slowly. His hand reached out, and Luna flinched, expecting pain. But his touch was unexpectedly gentle as he removed her gag and untied her wrists. She stared up at him, confused.

"You’re free to walk," he said softly.

Her voice was hoarse. "Why buy me if you’re not going to leash me like the rest?"

Kael didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked away, his coat billowing behind him like wings. Luna hesitated, then followed.

Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped. Kael’s carriage waited, black and regal, drawn by two midnight horses. He opened the door for her.

She hesitated again. "What do you want from me?"

Kael’s eyes were unreadable. "A truth," he said. "One only you can give me."

Inside the carriage, silence stretched between them. Kael didn’t ask questions. He didn’t touch her. He simply stared out the window, as if lost in thought.

Luna, soaked and trembling, leaned into the corner, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her life had changed in the span of minutes. Bought for ten million gold coins by a man who claimed he wanted nothing.

Who was he really?

Why her?

And what did he mean by “a truth”?

Something told her this was only the beginning.

And Kael… wasn’t just any Alpha.

He was hiding something.

Something that could change everything.