Chapter 2

Aria's POV

I woke up to the sound of shouting, my head was pounding, and my mouth was dry. When I tried to move, a sharp pain shot through my arms. My wrists were tied with rope. The room smelled like sweat, blood, and fear.

I blinked a few times before I could see clearly. The room was underground, dark, with stone walls and only a few weak lights hanging from the ceiling. Around me were other girls, some were older, some were younger, most of them were crying.

One of the guards kicked a metal bucket near us. “Wake up, all of you!” he shouted.

A woman came in with a clipboard, her face was cold, her voice firm. “Line them up, we start in an hour.”

The girls obeyed quickly, I tried to stand but my legs trembled. The floor was cold and rough under my feet. My clothes that were left were dirty and torn from when they dragged me here.

Now my body just hurts everywhere.

The woman walked past me, her eyes scanning us like we were things, not people. “Make sure they are marked,” she said to the guards.

I didn’t understand what that meant until they brought out a small iron rod from the fire pit near the corner. The tip of it glowed red and my heart dropped.

One of the girls tried to run, but another guard grabbed her hair and slammed her down, her scream filled the room.

“Hold them still,” the woman ordered.

When it was my turn, I tried to pull away, but two men held my arms tight. The iron touched my back for only a second, but the pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. I cried out, begging them to stop, the smell of burnt skin made my stomach twist.

“That’s enough,” the woman said calmly.

“She is marked, next.”

I could still feel the burn, even after they pushed me aside. Tears rolled down my face, but no one cared, the guards laughed like it was nothing.

They made us change into thin gray rags before lining us up again. One of the guards yanked my hair. “Stop crying,” he said, “you will ruin your face, the buyers like pretty girls.”

I clenched my fists but said nothing, talking only made things worse.

The woman checked her clipboard again. “You number 178 in front of the next group.”

That was me.

The guards pushed us down a narrow hallway. I could hear music and voices ahead. The air was heavy, filled with cigar smoke and perfume. My heart pounded faster the closer we got to the noise.

When the door opened, the light hit my eyes. The room was large; it was filled with rich men sitting in comfortable seats, drinking and laughing. Some wore suits, others had wolf tattoos or gold pins that showed their pack rank. The walls were covered in dark drapes, and a stage stood in the middle, with a tall man holding a microphone.

The guards shoved us toward it.

“Stand straight!” one of them hissed.

The man on stage smiled like he was hosting a show. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice loud and smooth, “Tonight’s event features some of the finest young wolves you will ever find, all unclaimed, all pure.”

The crowd clapped and cheered, my hands shook. I stared at the ground, wishing I could disappear.

“Bring out the first set,” The announcer said.

Four girls were pushed onto the stage, when one of them stumbled, a guard slapped her. The men in the audience laughed and my stomach turned.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” The announcer said.

“We will start the bidding at fifty thousand.”

Numbers started flying around the room. “Fifty-five!” “Sixty!” “Seventy!”

I didn’t hear the rest, I couldn’t, the sound made me sick. The first group was dragged off, replaced by another, then it was my turn.

“Next set!” The announcer said cheerfully.

The guards grabbed me and the three other girls. One of them whispered, “Please, I don’t want to go.”

“Quiet,” the guard snapped, pulling her forward.

I was shoved onto the stage, my body felt weak, my back still burned from the branding. My clothes were torn at the shoulder where one of the guards had pulled me earlier. I could feel the eyes of the men on us staring, judging.

The announcer looked at his list. “Number 178,” he said, glancing up at me. “Unclaimed, twenty four years old, healthy wolf bloodline.”

He paused. “Let’s start the bidding at sixty thousand.”

Someone shouted, “Sixty-five!”

Another said, “Eighty!”

The numbers kept rising.

“Ninety!”

“One hundred!”

“One twenty!”

My heart pounded so hard that it hurt, I wanted to cover my ears. Each shout was like a blow to my chest.

The announcer laughed. “Gentlemen, you are eager tonight.”

I kept my eyes on the floor, trying not to cry again. Then, through the noise, I heard a deep voice from the back of the room.

“Two hundred and fifty.”

The room fell silent.

Even the announcer froze for a second before saying, “Sir, did you say-”

“Two hundred and fifty,” The voice repeated.

The tone was calm, confident, and final.

Everyone turned to look at the back, a man sat near the back, dressed in a black suit. His expression didn’t change as the others stared. His presence filled the room; it was strong, quiet, and dangerous.

Whispers then started to spread through the crowd.

“That’s the Alpha King.”

“Damian Blackwood?”

“No one is going to challenge that.”

The announcer cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. “Two hundred and fifty, going once… going twice…”

He looked around, no one spoke.

“Sold,” He said finally, “To Alpha King Damian Blackwood.”

The sound of the gavel echoed through the hall. The guards grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the stage. My knees almost gave out, but I forced myself to walk. The crowd had gone silent; there was no laughter, no noise, just a heavy stillness.

I didn’t dare look up, I didn’t want to see him. But I could feel his eyes on me as they dragged me off the stage and toward the exit.

The guards stopped at the door. One of them laughed quietly. “Lucky you,” he said. “You belong to the King now.”

They pushed me into a small room beside the hall and locked the door behind me. The sound of the crowd started again outside, more laughter, more bidding.

I sat on the floor, shaking, the burn on my back was still throbbing. My clothes were torn, my body was sore, but nothing hurt more than the thought that I was now someone’s property.

I didn’t even know his face properly, but his name Damian Blackwood repeated in my mind. He was the Alpha King, the most feared wolf in the world.

And he had just bought me.