Chapter2: ''Mine''
1430 Words
"Mine."
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
Only the blonde king beside him and the brown-haired man standing close seemed to hear it. The blonde's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The brown-haired man immediately straightened, alert, his entire demeanor shifting to military precision.
But the grey-eyed king...the one who'd whispered that terrifying word....didn't acknowledge them. His focus stayed locked on me, silver eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my knees weak.
I couldn't look away. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
Who was he?
The blonde king....handsome, sharp-featured, radiating his own considerable power—leaned in and murmured something I couldn't hear.
The grey-eyed king's response was a single shake of his head. Sharp. Final.
Then he raised one hand slightly....barely a gesture, but the brown-haired man moved instantly, striding toward the auction platform with efficient purpose.
"The girl," he said, his voice clipped and professional as he addressed the auctioneer. "I'm purchasing her."
The auctioneer blinked, clearly flustered by the sudden attention from someone who was clearly important. "Ah...the current bid is nine thousand..."
"One hundred thousand."
The warehouse exploded.
Gasps ricocheted off the concrete walls. Someone shouted in disbelief. A glass dropped somewhere in the crowd, shattering loudly on the floor.
My ears rang with the chaos.
One hundred thousand.
For me.
The scarred alpha who'd been bidding stumbled backward, his face pale. The well-dressed beta shook his head rapidly and melted into the crowd.
Alpha Ashford...visible in the back near the exit....went pale, then red, his eyes wide with shock. He'd expected to get rid of me cheaply, quietly. Not like this.
Even the other kings....those massive, powerful figures in the shadows...looked surprised, their attention sharpening on the grey-eyed king and then on me.
What was happening? Why would anyone pay that much for a defective omega?
"I..." The auctioneer's hands trembled as he fumbled with his paperwork. "S-sold! Lot seventeen sold for one hundred thousand to..."
He looked at the brown-haired man desperately. "Name, sir?"
"That's not your concern." The man pulled a black card from his jacket....the kind I'd only heard about, the kind with no spending limit...and handed it over. "Process it. Quickly."
The auctioneer nearly tripped over himself in his haste to comply.
My vision swam. Black spots danced at the edges of my sight. This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. I was worth nothing. Everyone knew that. My own pack had sold me for scraps.
Why would someone pay a fortune?
The brown-haired man spoke into a small device on his collar...some kind of communication system. "Transaction complete.
Preparing for departure."
A crackling response I couldn't make out.
Then everything happened at once.
Two staff members rushed onto the platform. One unlocked the shackles around my wrists....the cold metal falling away, leaving red marks on my skin. The other draped something over my shoulders.
A cloak. Soft. Heavy. Expensive.
The fabric was grey like storm clouds, lined with something that felt like silk. It smelled like pine and smoke and winter nights....masculine, powerful, dangerous.
It smelled like him. The grey-eyed king.
This was his cloak.
"Come along, miss." One of the staff members...a thin man with nervous eyes....gestured toward the platform steps. "This way."
My legs wouldn't move. They felt like lead, rooted to the worn wood.
The man took my arm...not roughly, but firmly...and guided me toward the steps.
I descended on numb feet, the cloak dragging behind me like a train. The crowd had gone quiet now, everyone staring at me with expressions ranging from shock to envy to hostility.
The defective omega. Purchased for more money than most of them would see in a lifetime.
I reached the bottom step, my bare feet finding the cold concrete floor.
And stumbled.
My legs....shaking from fear and exhaustion and shock...gave out. I pitched forward, arms flailing uselessly.
Strong hands caught me before I hit the ground.
I looked up into kind blue eyes.
The blonde king.
He'd moved faster than I'd seen, crossing the distance between us in a heartbeat. His hands were gentle on my arms, steadying me with effortless strength.
"Easy," he said softly, his voice warm. Concerned.
For a fraction of a second, I felt safe.
Then I heard it.
A sound that made every hair on my body stand on end.
Low. Vicious. Inhuman.
A growl that vibrated through the concrete floor, through my bones, through my very soul.
I jerked my head toward the grey-eyed king.
He'd moved. Just one step forward, but the movement was predatory, lethal. His eyes had gone completely black....not a hint of silver remaining. His lips pulled back slightly, revealing teeth that looked too sharp. And the growl coming from his chest made every single wolf in the warehouse flinch and bare their necks in instinctive submission.
Including me.
My head dropped automatically, my body responding to a dominance so overwhelming it bypassed conscious thought.
Alpha. Not just any alpha.
The Alpha.
The blonde king....who'd caught me, who'd been nothing but kind....released me immediately. He took three quick steps back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.
"Apologies, Damien," he said carefully. "She was falling. I meant no disrespect."
Damien.
The name hit me like a physical blow.
Damien Blackthorn.
The King of Kings. The Alpha of Alphas. Ruler of all nine territories. The most powerful....and most dangerous—shifter alive.
I'd heard stories about him my entire life. Whispered in the omega quarters late at night. Spoken with fear and awe by pack warriors. A king who'd ruled for over a century. Who'd killed his own father to take the throne. Who could end entire bloodlines with a single command.
And he'd just bought me.
Terror flooded my veins, ice-cold and paralyzing.
The brown-haired man appeared at my side, his movements careful, non-threatening. "This way, miss. Quickly, please."
I couldn't move. My feet were rooted to the concrete. My entire body shook so hard my teeth chattered.
Damien...King Damien....was still staring at me with those bottomless black eyes. His massive chest heaved with barely controlled breaths. His hands were clenched into fists so tight I could see his knuckles white even from this distance.
He looked like he was holding back something monstrous.
Like his control was hanging by a thread.
And I was terrified of what would happen if that thread snapped.
"Miss." The brown-haired man's voice was more urgent now. "We need to leave. Now."
Somehow, my legs obeyed.
I stumbled forward, the grey cloak clutched around my trembling shoulders. The brown-haired man kept pace beside me, his hand hovering near my elbow but not touching...like he was afraid of what would happen if he did.
We moved toward a side exit I hadn't noticed before. Away from the crowd. Away from the staring eyes and whispered speculation.
But I felt him. Every step I took, I felt Damien's gaze burning into my back like a brand.
I couldn't help it. I glanced back.
He hadn't moved. Still stood in the same spot, perfectly still except for his chest rising and falling with harsh breaths. Those black eyes tracked my every movement.
The other kings had formed a loose semicircle around him....not threatening, but watchful. Concerned.
Like they weren't sure what he'd do next.
Like even they were afraid.
"Don't look back," the brown-haired man murmured. "Just keep walking."
I forced my eyes forward and let him guide me through the side door into the cool night air.
Behind me, I heard the blonde king....Raphael, someone had called him....speak quietly. "Damien. Brother. Breathe."
The door closed, cutting off the voices, and I was outside in a dimly lit parking area.
Several vehicles waited...sleek, black, expensive. A convoy.
The brown-haired man led me to the center SUV and opened the back door. "Please, miss."
I looked back at the warehouse one more time.
Through the grimy windows, I could see Damien's silhouette. Still standing in the same spot. Still watching.
Still barely in control.
A king who'd just spent a fortune on something...on someone...he clearly wanted.
But I didn't know why.
Didn't know what he planned to do with me.
All I knew was that my fate was no longer my own.
I belonged to him now.
To the King of Kings.
To the most dangerous wolf alive.
And as I climbed into the SUV and the door closed behind me, sealing me into luxury and uncertainty, one thought echoed through my terrified mind:
What does he want from me?
- Writer
