The Alpha's Lottery

Chapter 4

The auction hall was one place I would never get used to.

From the first time I’d set foot inside one to the one I was standing in now, the unease was always the same—heavy, lingering in the air like a bad smell. Spacious, airy, echoing… but I knew what really happened here. Every agent did. You couldn’t pretend otherwise.

This was where a woman lost her freedom.

Where she became property.

And the “buyer” wasn’t technically a man.

As usual, I’d done my sweep before anyone else arrived—stage, exits, sightlines. The best vantage point today was directly off the left of the dais, close enough to see the crowd but far enough that I wouldn’t be in their path. The gallery was arranged in a slow-rising arc, neat rows of leather seats climbing like a stadium, each one a perch for men who thought they owned the world.

Kalem was heading toward the front doors just as the transport team rolled in. Poor Lola Theam was led inside, shackled at ankles and wrists, drowning in that awful gray-brown “uniform” we slapped on the women. The thing hung off her like a bag—on purpose, probably.

Her long braid bounced against her back as she shuffled forward, escorted by Jim. He undid the braid before she went up, letting her hair fall loose and wild around her face. Then he freed her hands only long enough to secure them behind her again and attach the leather lead to the crossbar of the steel display stand.

“That’ll do ya, sweetheart,” he drawled, that fake casualness laced with quiet mockery.

Lola heard it too—her mouth twisted. Jim didn’t even glance back as he walked away, his potbelly shifting under the faded gray suit.

I didn’t want to feel anything about her being up there, but I did. For some reason, this one hit different. Like the weight of it all—the humiliation, the finality—landed square in my chest. Was this really “justice,” or was I working for the wrong side?

If I was honest, I’d stopped caring a long time ago. Every job had its ugly parts. This was just mine. But today… there was something else. Something under my skin.

I climbed the dais and stood beside Lola. Jim paused at the steps, watching me.

“You’re not going to be hurt,” I told her quietly. The words felt like cardboard in my mouth. “It’s simple. It’ll be over quick. You’ll be okay.”

Her dark eyes burned into mine. “I can’t believe you’re just going to let them do this. You’re a cop, yeah, but you’re a woman too.”

That stung—but I didn’t flinch. There was nothing I could do. Not without throwing my badge into the fire.

Truth was, I didn’t know exactly what happened to the women after. The rules said no permanent harm. But pregnancies? Those happened fast, and often. I’d avoided digging too deep into the “research.” The less I knew, the better.

Jim’s voice buzzed in my earpiece. “Here they come. I’ll be at the side exit. You good?”

“I’ve got her. Kalem’s screening them.”

“Ten of ’em. Small group.”

I took my seat at the left side of the dais, unbuttoned my coat. The grip of my sidearm pressed reassuringly into my ribs. I tried to look relaxed.

You’ve done this before, Sindy. Just another auction.

They filed in—ten towering alphas in dark suits. The air changed as they did, an itchy, electric pulse threading through the room. Six of them wore blackout sunglasses. I knew they were armed. Hell, their guards probably carried more firepower than our whole team combined.

Alphas didn’t need protection—not with what I’d read they could do—but they always had it.

The doors locked with a heavy thunk. Lights dimmed, plunging the gallery into shadow except for the bright wash of the spotlights on Lola. She stood barefoot, thin lips trembling, figure slight but with just enough curve to keep the bidders interested. Her medical file had made it clear—healthy, fertile, nothing to disqualify her.

Kalem came around and bumped my shoulder. “Pretty uneventful so far. Here’s to a clean auction and a beer after shift.”

“Sounds good,” I said, forcing the words past the heat prickling at the back of my neck.

I scanned the alphas, zeroing in on the two leaders.

The first—Glacier Peak pack—had long blond hair that shimmered like it belonged in a shampoo ad. Broad shoulders, golden stubble on a square jaw, eyes the cold blue-green of the North Atlantic.

The other I knew by name. Lorenzo. Cold Ridge pack.

Oh, s**t.

It wasn’t panic exactly—more like an explosion under my skin. My breasts ached, n*****s hard, my breath hitching.

What the f**k is going on?

I forced myself to study his face. Slate gray eyes, unreadable. Maybe kind. Maybe cruel. Maybe both. The kind of eyes that made you not care which, as long as the attention was on you.

He was taller than the blond, hair coal-black and clipped close, gray just frosting the temples. The kind of man who looked like he’d never age, never weaken. His suit was perfect, framing his broad chest and narrow waist like he’d been carved for it.

He sat before his guards did—slow, deliberate. He was in charge, and everyone knew it.

Kalem murmured, “Ever wonder what they’re saying? Like, do they talk about her like a cow?”

“Jesus, Kalem.” But yeah—I had wondered.

And then his gaze slid to me. Landed. Stayed.

My heart slammed into my ribs. “Kalem…”

“Ignore him. He’s just looking around,” she said evenly. But I could hear it—she knew something was off.

“Why is he looking at me—” I stopped, heat rolling through me in a suffocating wave. My thighs pressed together under the table, my pulse thundering in my ears. My underwear was already wet.

“Holy s**t, what’s happening?”

Kalem’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “Easy. Breathe.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I whispered.

She searched my face. “You gonna be sick?”

“Not… exactly.” I gripped my thighs, fighting the urge to bolt.

And then Lorenzo’s eyes caught mine again, and the heat spiked like fire.

This can’t be happening.

But I knew. I didn’t understand it, but I knew.

And then he said it. Deep, calm, but like a command carved in stone.

“I choose… her.”

Kalem stiffened. He was looking right at me.

“No one else,” Kalem snapped. “The subject’s on stage. No agents.”

Lorenzo rose, coming toward us like the rest of the room didn’t exist. Close up, he was all heat and scent—sandalwood, sweat, pure male. My mouth watered.

“I want her. And I will have her,” he said, eyes flicking briefly to Kalem. “My choice will be honored here today.”

Kalem flipped her jacket open, hand on her gun. “Not today. Not ever. She’s not on the table.”

He stepped closer. I could smell him stronger now, and my body wanted things my mind screamed against.

Run.

I shot to my feet.

“Don’t move,” he said.

Three of his men were already on their feet, two drawing pistols. I had mine out before I realized it, Kalem mirroring me.

Jim slid between us, hands up. “What’s going on?”

“They go first,” Kalem said. “I’m taking her outside. This is a protocol violation.”

Jim frowned. “Boss man’s not gonna like this.”

I lowered my gun but didn’t take my eyes off Lorenzo. Kalem dragged me toward the doors, her weapon still trained on him.

“Running won’t do anything,” he called after us. “She can’t escape who she is. What she is.”

My stomach flipped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Who knows,” Kalem hissed, shoving the door open. “We’re not sticking around to find out.”

Sunlight hit my face. My heart still hadn’t slowed.

What the f**k am I gonna do now?