The night smelled of iron and smoke.
Kaia had always imagined her eighteenth year would bring freedom. Wolves were supposed to awaken fully by then, their wolves surfacing, their fates aligning under the light of the Moon Goddess. But freedom was a luxury meant for daughters who were wanted, for she-wolves with families who cherished them.
For Kaia, it brought chains.
The cold bite of silver shackles cut into her wrists as she stumbled down the torch-lit corridor, dragged forward by two guards whose faces she recognized all too well. They had been the same ones who jeered when she struggled through pack training, the same men who spat the word Omega as if it were filth.
Her heart thudded against her ribs, not with fear, but with betrayal.
She had known hunger, cruelty, and loneliness her whole life. But nothing prepared her for the moment she heard her uncle's voice, Alpha Arden, the man who had raised her after her parents died agree to her sale.
"She'll fetch a good price at the Auction," he'd said, his tone casual, as though discussing livestock. "Weak, yes, but look at her. Exotic. Someone will pay handsomely."
And just like that, she had become currency.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber carved of black stone, lit by lanterns that flickered with a sickly green glow. Voices filled the air low, eager, hungry. A hundred eyes turned as the guards shoved her forward, onto the raised stage in the center.
The Mate Auction.
Kaia's breath caught in her throat. She had heard whispers of it, half-believed stories traded by servants in hushed tones. An underground market where she-wolves of rare beauty, blood, or strength were paraded before Alphas and Lycans, sold like trinkets to the highest bidder.
But she had thought it was just a legend.
Now she stood in the center of it, shackled, the silk dress forced onto her body far too tight across her ribs, chosen only to display her like meat.
"Lot Forty-Two," the Auctioneer announced, his voice booming with a slick confidence that made her stomach turn. "A rare offering, an Omega of unusual bloodline. Untouched. Untamed. Ready to be claimed."
The crowd murmured, voices laced with amusement and disdain.
"An Omega? She'll be useless."
"Pretty enough, though. A fine pet."
"Pathetic. Who would waste gold on that?"
Kaia lifted her chin despite the tremor in her knees. She would not cry for them. Not here. Not in front of wolves who saw her as nothing more than a prize.
The bidding began.
Numbers were called, voices overlapped, laughter echoed. It was all a blur until the chamber fell into a sudden hush.
The Auctioneer's smile faltered. His eyes flicked toward the back of the hall, and every wolf present lowered their heads instinctively.
Kaia turned.
The man who entered was taller than anyone she had ever seen, his presence filling the air like a storm rolling over the sea. Dark hair framed a face carved from stone, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the torchlight. His black cloak trailed the ground, heavy with the scent of rain and blood.
Damien Blackthorn.
The Lycan King.
Her breath hitched, her wolf, a timid, half-formed presence inside her recoiling and shivering in equal measure. She had heard stories of him since childhood. The butcher of kings. The breaker of bonds. The ruler who had killed his first mate with his own hands and vowed never to love again.
And now his gaze was fixed on her.
A single word left his lips, deep and commanding, silencing the Auctioneer mid-sentence.
"Mine."
The hall erupted into whispers. No bid, no number, just a claim that brooked no argument.
The Auctioneer swallowed hard, then slammed his gavel down. "S-Sold to His Majesty, the Lycan King."
The chains on Kaia's wrists suddenly felt heavier.
Because in that single moment, her fate was sealed not by gold, not by choice but by a monster the entire world feared.
And by the way her heart stuttered in her chest, she knew something was terribly, dangerously wrong