The Dragon Alpha's Forsaken Luna

Chapter Five: Sold

"Fifty-five thousand," a vampire called from the front row.

"Sixty," said a witch in the back.

"Seventy."

"Eighty."

"One hundred."

The numbers climbed faster than Seraphina could track. She stood on the platform with her wrists chained to the iron post, her white gown glowing in the torchlight. The crowd stared at her like she was a piece of meat.

She refused to look at any of them.

"One fifty," someone shouted.

"Two hundred."

Madame Voss smiled from beside her. The auctioneer's face was bright with greed. Every bid meant more gold in her pocket. More power. More prestige.

"Two fifty," a new voice called out.

Seraphina's eyes moved toward the sound. A man stood at the back of the chamber, leaning against the wall. He was tall and broad, with dark hair that fell across his forehead. A scar ran from his temple to his jaw.

His clothes were simple. His eyes were not. He was not smiling.

"Two hundred fifty thousand," he said again. "For the female Alpha."

Madame Voss's eyes widened. "Two fifty going once—"

"Three hundred," a fat man in the front row interrupted.

The scarred man did not even look at him. "Four hundred."

"Four fifty."

"Six hundred."

The chamber gasped. Six hundred thousand gold pieces was more than most packs earned in a decade. The fat man's face turned red. His hand trembled in the air.

"Seven—"

"One million," the scarred man said.

Silence. Complete and absolute silence. Even the torches seemed to burn quieter.

Madame Voss's hand trembled around her gavel. "One million gold pieces. Going once. Going twice."

She looked at the fat man. He shook his head, his face pale.

"Sold," Madame Voss said. "To the gentleman in the back."

---

The scarred man paid in gold.

Seraphina watched from the platform as he counted out coins from a leather bag. The bag seemed heavier than any man should be able to carry. Madame Voss's assistants verified each piece, their hands shaking.

No one had ever paid one million gold for a single prisoner before.

The crowd dispersed slowly. Creatures filed out of the chamber, whispering among themselves. Some glanced back at Seraphina with curiosity. Others with pity. A few with something that looked like fear.

She did not understand the fear. She was just a woman in chains.

"That's enough," Madame Voss said finally. "The girl is yours."

The scarred man walked toward the platform. His boots made no sound on the stone floor. He stopped in front of Seraphina and looked up at her with those unreadable eyes.

"Your name," he said.

"Seraphina."

"Seraphina." He tested the word like it was a foreign language. "I'm Drystan. I'm here on behalf of someone who doesn't like to wait."

"On behalf of who?"

Drystan did not answer. He reached up and unlocked her chains with a small key. The metal fell away. Seraphina rubbed her wrists, surprised by how much they hurt.

"You're coming with me," he said. "Now."

"Where?"

"North." He turned and walked toward the stairs. "Very far north. Try to keep up. The Alpha doesn't like to be kept waiting."

---

Seraphina looked back at the empty platform. The chains. The post. The torchlight that had made her gown transparent.

She thought about Lira, the half-fae woman in cell number six. Three months in this place. Three months of waiting for someone to buy her.

"I'll come back for you," Seraphina whispered.

Then she followed Drystan up the stairs.

The dead town looked different at night. Darker. Colder. The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over the collapsed buildings and overgrown streets. A carriage waited at the bottom of the hill.

Four horses. Black as shadows. Their breath steamed in the cold air.

"Get in," Drystan said.

He opened the carriage door. The inside was dark and smelled of leather and something else. Something familiar. Something that made the heat in her chest stir.

Seraphina climbed inside. The seat was soft. Too soft. She had been sitting on stone and wood for so long that comfort felt wrong.

Drystan climbed in across from her. He tapped the ceiling twice. The carriage lurched forward.

"Who is the Alpha?" she asked.

"You'll meet him soon enough."

"What does he want with me?"

Drystan's eyes met hers. For the first time, something flickered across his scarred face. Something that looked almost like pity.

"He needs someone to survive his rut."

Seraphina's blood went cold. "His rut?"

"Alpha Kael Draven is not like other wolves." Drystan's voice was quiet. Careful. "His ruts are violent. Uncontrollable. He has killed every woman ever sent to his bed."

"Then why am I going?"

"Because the healer says he will die if he doesn't find someone who can calm him. And the council is desperate enough to try anything." He paused. "Even you."

Seraphina looked out the window. The dead town was already gone. Nothing but darkness and an empty road stretched before her.

"Every woman?" she asked.

"Every single one."

---

The carriage traveled north for three days.

Seraphina slept in fits. The seat was soft, but her body had forgotten how to rest. Every bump in the road sent pain through her side. The wolfsbane was still in her blood, keeping her wolf weak and distant.

But the warmth in her belly remained. Stronger now. Almost like the child was feeding on the heat in her chest.

Drystan did not speak much. He gave her food and water. He let her sleep. He watched her with those unreadable eyes.

On the second night, she dreamed of fire again. Blue and gold and silver flames. The red-eyed man appeared in the flames. He reached for her. His hand was warm.

"You are carrying my blood," he said. "Dragon blood. The wolf is only part of you. The rest is fire."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am the Dragon God. And you, Seraphina Ravencrest, are my last living descendant."

She woke up within a gasp. Her hand was on fire. Golden light flickered across her palm. The blanket beneath her hand was smoking. A small flame danced on the fabric.

She patted it out quickly. Drystan was asleep across from her. He did not wake.

Seraphina stared at her palm. The light faded. The skin returned to normal.

But the heat remained.

---

On the third day, they crossed into the northern territories.

The landscape changed. The trees grew darker. The air grew colder. Snow covered the ground in patches, even though it was not yet winter.

Seraphina pressed her face against the window and watched the world pass by. She had never been this far north before. The stories said the wolves here were different. Colder. More dangerous.

The stories said Alpha Kael Draven was the most dangerous of them all.

"Why does he have ruts?" she asked.

Drystan looked up from his silent brooding. "What?"

"Other Alphas have ruts, but not like that. Not violent enough to kill. What's wrong with him?"

Drystan was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Something is poisoning him. Has been for years. The healer doesn't know what. The council doesn't care. They just want him controlled."

"Controlled?"

"His rut is the only time he loses control. The rest of the time, he's cold. Calculating. Terrifying." Drystan's jaw tightened. "The council is afraid of him. They want something that can keep him calm. Something they can control."

"And they think I'm that something?"

"You survived the dungeon. You survived the black market. You survived Ronan's dagger." Drystan's eyes met hers. "You're pregnant and still alive. That shouldn't be possible with that much wolfsbane in your blood."

Seraphina touched her belly. "Maybe I'm stronger than I look."

Drystan studied her face. "Maybe you're something else entirely."

The carriage slowed. Seraphina looked out the window and saw walls. High stone walls, black against the gray sky. Torches burned along the top, casting long shadows across the snow.

Kael Draven's fortress. Her new prison.

"Welcome to the North," Drystan said.

The gates opened. The carriage rolled through. And Seraphina Ravencrest, sold for one million gold, pregnant with dragon blood, haunted by dreams of fire, prepared to meet the most dangerous Alpha in the world.

The carriage stopped in a courtyard. Guards surrounded it immediately. Drystan stepped out first. He spoke to someone in hushed tones.

Then the carriage door opened again.

"Out," a new guard said.

Seraphina climbed down. Her legs were weak, but she held herself straight. She would not show fear. Not here. Not now.

The fortress was massive. Stone walls. Iron gates. Torches everywhere. Wolves in armor watched her from every corner.

"Where is the Alpha?" she asked.

"He's in his chambers." The guard's voice was flat. "His rut started this morning. He's been asking for you."

"Asking?"

"Growling. Same thing." The guard grabbed her arm. "Come on. He doesn't like to wait."

They led her through the fortress. Up stairs. Down corridors. Past doors that led to rooms she would never see.

The heat in her chest grew stronger with every step. The warmth in her belly pulsed in answer.

She was not afraid. She should have been afraid. Every woman before her had died in that room.

But Seraphina Ravencrest had already survived so much. A poisoned dagger. A dungeon. A black market. A million gold price tag.

She could survive one Alpha.

The guards stopped at a massive door. Iron bound. Scratch marks on the wood. Something behind it was growling.

"The chamber," the guard said. "Good luck."

He opened the door and pushed her inside.