The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 361

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Chapter 361

Aurora

“Sold at two million!” the host announced, his voice bright with triumph, as if he had just closed a deal on rare art instead of a living girl. “Congratulations to Michael Volkov.”

Polite applause followed.

Not loud. Not emotional.

Satisfied.

One of the men seated near the center row rose slowly. He adjusted the cuff of his dark suit with deliberate calm, as if this were merely

business-which, to him, it probably was. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and cold, pale eyes that didn’t quite match the

warmth of the room. There was something restrained about him. Predatory but controlled.

Two guards stepped forward from the shadows along the wall.

Stella did not resist.

She didn’t look at the man who had just purchased her. She didn’t look back at us either. She simply turned when instructed, her black dress

whispering softly against the floor as she descended the steps of the platform.

For one split second, just before she disappeared into the aisle between the seats, her red eyes flicked upward.

Not to the host.

Not to the crowd.

To the ceiling.

Like she was memorizing it.

Then she was gone.

The host clapped his hands once, pleased. “An excellent start to the evening,” he said smoothly. “Truly, our buyers never disappoint.”

I swallowed hard.

Two million.

A number so large it should have felt abstract.

Instead, it felt like a countdown.

There were three girls ahead of me now.

The man with the microphone glanced down at a small card in his hand, smile widening just slightly.

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“Next,” he said, his voice almost playful. “Girl number two. Lisa Wilston, human girl, step forward please.”

The blonde girl with green eyes stiffened.

She stood three places to my left, her shoulders narrow beneath the soft fabric of her pale green dress. She didn’t have the mark on her wrist. I had checked earlier-subtly, carefully. Her skin there was untouched. No carved symbol. No raised lines.

She was human.

Slowly-too slowly-she stepped forward.

The stage lights caught in her hair, turning it almost gold. Up close, she looked even younger than I first thought. Seventeen, maybe. Eighteen at most. Her green eyes were wide but dry. No tears. Just shock.

The man with the microphone circled her once, like he was presenting a prize horse.

“Now…” he continued, voice rising theatrically. “Why would a human girl e special?”

A few murmurs drifted from the seating below.

He smiled wider.

“Because, ladies and gentlemen, she is not an ordinary human. Lisa Wilston was raised by a pack of werewolves from the age of ten. Found wandering near their territory, taken in by an Alpha and his Luna, and raised as one of their own.”

A ripple of interest moved through the room.

“She understands pack dynamics. She knows hierarchy. She speaks their language. She has been trained to obey strength. And”-he tilted his head slightly-“it was not easy to retrieve her.”

Lisa’s fingers curled slightly at her sides.

Retrieve.

Like she’d been stolen property.

“We will start the bidding at five hundred thousand dollars.”

The number echoed.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then a hand lifted.

“Five hundred.”

Another voice from deeper in the rows. “Six hundred.”

“Seven.”

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The bids climbed faster than I expected.

Lisa’s breathing quickened. I could see it from where I stood-her chest rising and falling just a little too fast. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t

beg.

One of the buyers leaned forward in his seat-a tall man with dark skin and amber eyes that glowed faintly under the lights. Not fully human. Not fully wolf either. His gaze dragged over her with clinical interest.

“Eight hundred.”

“Eight fifty.”

“Nine.”

The host’s excitement grew with every number.

“One million.”

A soft gasp moved through the audience.

The blonde girl swayed slightly.

“One point two.”

The final bid came from the left side of the room-a woman this time. She wore a long white coat that shimmered faintly under the lights, her

silver eyes unblinking.

“Going once…” the host sang.

Lisa closed her eyes for just a second.

“Going twice…”

No one interrupted.

“Sold! For one million two hundred thousand!”

Applause again.

The woman in white stood, graceful and composed, as if she had just purchased a painting.

Lisa didn’t move until a guard touched her arm.

Then she walked.

Head dipped.

Green eyes dull.

She passed by me on her way down the steps, and for the briefest moment our shoulders brushed.

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Her skin was ice cold.

And then she was gone too.

Two left before me.

The next name echoed through the room.

“Aria Moon. Werewolf. Step forward.”

A girl with dark brown hair and sharp cheekbones stepped out of line. She moved more confidently than the others, though her jaw was clenched tight. Her dress was deep blue, sleeveless, fitted at the waist and flowing down in soft layers that brushed the stage. It suited her.

Made her look strong.

If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought she was walking into a ceremony.

Her eyes golden, unmistakably wolf-scanned the room once before she forced them down.

“Pure-blood werewolf,” the man announced. “Daughter of a Beta from the Northern Territories. Exceptional stamina. Strong lineage. Unmated.”

The word unmates hung in the air like bait.

The bidding started at six hundred thousand.

It climbed steadily. Slower than the vampire. Slower than Lisa.

“Seven.”

“Seven fifty.”

“Eight hundred.”

A tall, broad-shouldered man in the third row barely raised his hand when he said, “Nine hundred.”

Silence followed.

No one challenged it.

“Sold. Nine hundred thousand.”

Aria didn’t react.

She didn’t cry.

She simply walked down the steps like she was heading toward execution and had already accepted it.

The stage felt emptier.

Then-

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“Anastasia Mikhailo