Four.
1626 Words
Aria's POV
The explosion ripped through the auction hall like thunder, shaking the very foundations beneath our feet.
Chunks of marble crashed down from the ceiling, shattering across the polished floor. The grand chandeliers swung wildly overhead, their crystals clinking together in a chaotic symphony, until one finally broke free and slammed onto the stage with a deafening crash. Glass exploded everywhere. Guests who had been calmly bidding on women just moments earlier now screamed and shoved each other in blind panic, desperate to reach any exit.
The elegant crowd turned into a frantic mob.
Guards rushed toward the shattered main entrance, weapons drawn, but they never stood a chance.
A blur cut through the thick smoke.
One second, a trafficker was raising his sword with a snarl. The next, his head rolled across the white marble floor, leaving a trail of blood that sprayed hot and sticky over everything nearby. A woman beside me let out a piercing scream.
Another blur. Another body dropped with a heavy thud.
Whoever had burst in wasn’t just fighting. He was executing them, one by one, with ruthless efficiency.
The auctioneer stumbled backward, his face pale as death. “Protect the merchandise!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “Get the Luna Vitae out of here, now! Move!”
Two guards seized my arms roughly, their fingers digging into my skin.
I didn’t think. I just reacted. I drove my heel straight into the knee of the one on my left. A sickening crack echoed, and he howled in agony, his grip loosening.
The second guard slapped me hard across the face. Pain exploded behind my eyes, blurring my vision, but he kept dragging me toward a hidden doorway behind the stage.
“No!” I screamed, twisting wildly. I clawed at his face, my nails raking across his cheek. “Let me go!”
He cursed loudly. “You little b***h—”
His words cut off in a wet, choking gurgle. Warm blood splashed across my cheek and neck. The guard’s body crumpled beside me with a heavy thud.
A sword had been driven clean through his chest.
I stumbled back, heart pounding so hard I could barely breathe. The blade was yanked free in one smooth, brutal motion. Whoever held it stayed hidden in the thick smoke, but I could feel the power radiating from that direction.
More screams filled the hall. Metal clanged against metal. The walls themselves seemed to tremble. The metallic smell of blood grew so thick it coated my tongue.
The remaining guard abandoned me and charged straight toward the attacker. He only managed three steps.
A massive claw tore straight through his chest from behind. My breath caught in my throat as the guard’s eyes widened in shock. The claw withdrew with a sickening sound, and the man collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
Out of the swirling smoke stepped a creature that made my blood run cold.
He stood over seven feet tall, broad shoulders wrapped in black armor that looked like it had been forged from night itself. Long silver hair fell down his back, streaked with blood. Golden eyes glowed with an unnatural, predatory intensity. His hands were no longer fully human—deadly black claws extended from his fingers, still dripping.
Power rolled off him in crushing waves. The temperature in the entire hall seemed to drop.
He wasn’t simply a werewolf. He was something far more ancient and terrifying.
A Lycan.
He scanned the room once. Just once.
Every surviving trafficker immediately turned to flee.
“Run!” one of them shouted, voice filled with pure terror. “It’s him! The Lycan King!”
King?
My eyes widened in disbelief.
This was Kaelen Draven? The ruler whispered about in bedtime stories meant to scare disobedient children? The king who had conquered three kingdoms before he even turned thirty?
He looked exactly like the legends—beautiful in a devastating way, terrifying, and utterly merciless.
His expression didn’t change as he cut through another trafficker. One swing of his sword. One corpse. Another swing. Another body hit the ground. He killed with frightening precision, wasting neither movement nor breath.
Around him, soldiers in matching black armor flooded into the hall. Unlike regular warriors, they ignored the buyers who had dropped to their knees in surrender. Their targets were clear: the traffickers, the auctioneers, the guards—anyone connected to this nightmare market.
“Free the prisoners!” one commander barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Leave no records standing. Burn everything if you have to!”
My cage had already been damaged in the explosion, the bars bent and broken. I could have run. I should have run for my life.
But I couldn’t.
My gaze locked on the women still chained to the walls. They were crying, begging, pulling desperately at their restraints. I couldn’t just leave them here like this.
I rushed to the nearest cage. “Move back!” I told the frightened girl inside, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ll get you out of there, okay? Just hold on.”
She stared at me with wide, tear-filled eyes and nodded shakily.
I searched frantically for a key on the floor, my hands shaking. “Damn it, where is it?”
Nearby, a dead guard still clutched a ring of keys in his fist. I sprinted toward him.
I was almost there when a strong hand wrapped firmly around my wrist, stopping me cold.
I spun around, ready to fight tooth and nail.
Instead, I found myself staring directly into molten gold eyes.
King Kaelen.
Up close, he was even more overwhelming. A faint scar traced across one cheek. His armor was splattered with blood that clearly wasn’t his. His expression stayed unreadable, but those eyes… they pinned me in place.
“You need to leave this place right now,” he said, his voice low and calm, like we weren’t surrounded by death and destruction. “It’s not safe for you here.”
I jerked my wrist free, breathing hard. “There are still women locked up. I’m not going anywhere until they’re free.”
“I know,” he replied evenly. “My soldiers will handle it. They’re already moving.”
“I don’t trust your soldiers,” I shot back, lifting my chin.
One dark eyebrow lifted slightly. “You don’t trust me either, do you?”
“No,” I answered without hesitation. “I don’t.”
Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe even a hint of reluctant amusement. Not anger.
“You should go before more enemies arrive,” he warned again, his tone firm but not unkind. “This fight isn’t over.”
“I’ll leave after they’re free,” I insisted, refusing to back down. “I’m not abandoning them.”
A loud crash interrupted us. One of the traffickers burst through a side passage, dragging a terrified little girl by the arm. He pressed a dagger against her throat, his hand trembling with desperation.
“Back off!” he shouted at the king, voice cracking. “I’ll kill her right here, I swear it! Drop your sword or she dies!”
Kaelen didn’t move. Neither did I.
The child sobbed uncontrollably, her small body shaking.
The trafficker grinned wildly, trying to look in control. “I said drop it! Now!”
Instead of obeying, Kaelen glanced at me. “Close your eyes.”
“What?” I blinked, confused.
“Close them,” he repeated, his voice steady and commanding. “Trust me on this one thing.”
I hesitated for half a second, then squeezed my eyes shut.
The trafficker screamed—a short, horrible sound. It happened so fast I couldn’t even track the movement. When I opened my eyes again, the man’s body lay crumpled on the floor. His arm was several feet away, still clutching the dagger, which had clattered harmlessly across the marble. The little girl stood frozen but untouched.
Kaelen had crossed the distance in a blur. He gently picked up the child and handed her to one of his waiting soldiers. “Get her to safety,” he ordered quietly.
Only then did he retrieve his sword, wiping the blade clean with a swift motion.
I swallowed hard, my heart still racing. No wonder entire kingdoms feared this man.
He turned back to me, those golden eyes searching my face. “Now do you understand why you must leave? This isn’t a place for you to stay any longer.”
“I understand that you’re dangerous,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on.
His jaw tightened visibly. “So are you,” he replied, the words carrying a weight I didn’t fully understand.
Before I could respond, another soldier rushed up and dropped to one knee. “My King.”
“What is it?” Kaelen asked, not taking his eyes off me.
“The western tunnels are collapsing, sire. But we’ve discovered documents in the inner chamber.”
The soldier’s face darkened with concern. “They’ve already sent word.”
Kaelen’s eyes narrowed sharply. “To whom?”
“The Moon Council.”
For the first time since he had appeared, the king’s composure cracked just slightly. A dangerous silence settled over him.
“They know…” he murmured under his breath.
His gaze slowly shifted back to me, intense and unblinking.
“They know she’s alive.”
Every instinct screamed at me to run.
Not from the traffickers. Not from the collapsing tunnels or the blood-soaked hall.
But from the way the Lycan King was looking at me now—like my very existence had just shifted the fate of entire kingdoms.
- Writer
