The auctioneer stood before me, a smirk curling his lips. He was a tall man dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair slicked back, eyes gleaming with sharp amusement. He carried himself with the air of someone who owned the room—someone who had broken countless people before me.

“You’re the most valuable one here.”

His words made my stomach twist.

I refused to look away. I wouldn’t cower.

“Go to hell,” I muttered.

He chuckled. “Oh, I like you already. But you’ll have to save that attitude for your buyer.”

The word buyer made my blood run cold.

Behind me, Naia let out a sharp breath. “Selene,” she whispered, voice hoarse, barely above a breath. “They can’t—”

Her voice cracked.

I didn’t know what she was going to say. They can’t do this? They can’t take you?

But we both knew the truth. They could. And they would.

Darius shifted against his chains, his golden eyes dark with fury.

“What the hell do you want from us?” he growled. “You already destroyed our pack. Haven’t you taken enough?”

The auctioneer turned to him, unimpressed. “Tsk, tsk. You rogues never learn. I’m not the one who wants anything from you.”

He crouched down, meeting my gaze.

“But there are many out there who do.”

A slow, creeping dread coiled in my stomach.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver tag. The moment he held it up, I knew what it meant.

I was being marked.

“Lot 47,” he mused. “A rare find. And such a pretty one, too. They’ll be bidding high for you.”

A guard moved toward the cage door, a pair of thick iron cuffs in his hands.

I stiffened.

Not like this.

I couldn’t let them drag me away like some obedient animal.

The second the door swung open, I lunged. My elbow crashed into the guard’s throat. He staggered back, choking on a curse.

Naia gasped. Darius tried to move forward, but his restraints yanked him back.

I spun, aiming a kick at the second guard, but something heavy struck the back of my head.

Pain exploded through my skull.

My vision blurred, knees buckling as the world tilted. Hands grabbed me. My body was yanked forward, my wrists slammed into cold metal.

The cuffs snapped shut.

I thrashed, but the silver burned, making my muscles go weak. A paralyzing heat spread through my veins.

Naia was screaming now. “Let her go!”

She lunged at the bars, fists slamming against them.

“Someone shut her up,” the auctioneer muttered.

One of the guards yanked her back. She fought, teeth bared, nails clawing at their arms.

“Where are you taking her?!” she demanded. “You can’t—”

A backhand silenced her.

My rage surged like wildfire.

“You bastards!” I shouted, straining against my chains.

The auctioneer sighed. “Take her away.”

I barely had time to see Naia curled on the floor, trembling, Darius clenching his fists in silent fury—before I was dragged from the cage.

The hallway was narrow and suffocating, lit only by flickering torches along the stone walls.

I dug my heels into the ground. I wouldn’t go down quietly.

The guards tightened their grips. One yanked my arm so hard I thought it would pop from its socket.

“You’re putting on quite a show,” the auctioneer mused as he walked beside us. “Careful, buyers love a fighter.”

I turned my glare on him. “They won’t love me when I rip their throats out.”

He laughed. “Oh, they’ll break you before you ever get the chance.”

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