CHAPTER 2

SELENE

The door swung open, and a woman strode in, her tailored suit and stiff posture making her look more like a businesswoman than a jailer.

She was a tall blonde with sharp, assessing eyes, circled me like a predator inspecting its prey. She pursed her lips, tilting my chin up with cold fingers.

"Hmm… you'll fetch a high price if I can bring out your real beauty. And that means a bigger commission for me."

The bitch. She made me feel like a damn show dog being primed for competition.

"But first," she continued, wrinkling her nose,

"you need a proper cleaning. The ravenous vampires would never bid on something that reeks."

Vampires?

My heart stuttered in my chest. That had to be a metaphor. Some twisted way of describing the sick bastards waiting to buy me.

Yeah… that had to be it.

Before I could dwell on it, I was dragged from the room, stripped, and plunged into ice-cold water. My skin burned from the harsh scrubbing, my teeth chattering as they washed me like I was nothing more than livestock. When she was done, she forced me into something that barely counted as clothing—a sheer scrap of fabric that clung to me in all the wrong ways.

I stood there, shivering, humiliated, rage bubbling beneath the surface.

I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know when, but one thing was certain—I had to find a way out of here. And fast.

.......

I failed.

I made a break for it, adrenaline pumping through my veins, but I barely got five steps before a massive guard seized me from behind. His grip was like iron, and before I could even fight back, he yanked me off the ground and dragged me back toward the room, my feet dragging uselessly against the floor.

.......

I am in hell.

The back of my throat burns, raw and searing as if I swallowed shards of glass and washed them down with acid.

The air is damp, thick with the scent of decay and something metallic—blood. My arms feel like lead, every muscle aching as I push to stand upright

I'm among a dozen others, our wrists bound in thick iron cuffs, the metal cutting into raw skin. A chain linked us all together, forcing us to shuffle forward as the line moved. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I refused to let the fear show. Around me, others whimpered, some sobbing softly, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from trembling.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

The platform loomed ahead like the gallows. One by one, we were pushed forward onto the wooden stage, thrust beneath the torchlight for display. The air was too warm, too close, yet I felt cold down to my bones.

A man beside me—gaunt, barely more than skin and bone—was dragged onto the platform first. His legs buckled, and he collapsed, only to be yanked up by his collar. His lips moved, forming silent pleas that no one would listen to.

The auctioneer gripped his jaw and forced his head back.

"Healthy blood," he announced, turning the man’s face for all to see.

"No illness. Strong body."

Strong? He looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Starting bid: two hundred dollars."

A voice rose from the shadows, raising it to thirty.

Another called for forty.

The numbers climbed higher, too quickly, and within seconds, a final bid sealed his fate. The hammer struck down, and he was dragged away, his mouth open in silent terror.

I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. I had seen people taken before, but never had I stood among them, waiting for my turn.

"Next," the auctioneer called.

I barely had time to take a breath before hands grabbed my arms, shoving me forward. My bare feet scraped against the wooden planks as I stumbled onto the auction block. I lifted my head, forcing my chin up, even as I felt their eyes crawling over me.

The auctioneer's grip clamped onto my chin, tilting my face toward the torchlight.

"Ah," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with something dark.

"Now, this is a rare one."

I refused to blink. Refused to let him see the fear clawing at my insides.

"Unbroken. Strong-willed." He turned my face slightly, his fingers pressing hard against my jaw.

"I can see it in her eyes—she fights her."

The crowd chuckled, low and amused.

"Always the most fun to break," he added, squeezing just enough to make my jaw ache.

I clenched my fists. My nails dug into my palms, grounding me. Anger rose, thick and suffocating, pressing against the fear.

I would rather die than let them break me.

I stepped onto the stage, the cold, harsh spotlight blinding me for a moment. The auctioneer, a slender man with greying hair, seemed more suited to be someone's kindly grandfather than the one running blood auctions in the heart of vampire territory. But here we were. His smile was the kind that didn't reach his eyes, the kind that only saw value in the flesh and blood of others.

I glanced around the room. Over twenty men were sitting in chairs, their eyes fixed on me like vultures circling prey.

Three of them had women beside them, their expressions blank, as if they'd been through this before.

One man had a young man with him, and they both stared at me with the same cold detachment. They were all watching, waiting.

The stage rotated slowly beneath me, turning me like livestock at the market. I told myself I shouldn't care, but I couldn't help it.

"Twenty-two years old," the auctioneer announced, tapping at his tablet with his thin fingers.

"Healthy, no known medical conditions. Blood type AB-negative..." He paused, his eyes flicking to the room full of vampires, and a low murmur rippled through the crowd.

A low murmur rippled through the crowd. Some of them licked their lips, their fangs glinting under the dim lights, while others exchanged glances, their eyes dark with hunger.

"Delicious," one of them muttered, his voice a rasp of barely contained desire. His fingers twitched at his sides, his pupils dilating as he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of fresh prey.

Nearby, another vampire chuckled, his smile sharp, predatory.

"AB-negative," the auctioneer continued as if he were feeding their excitement.

"A rare and highly sought-after blood type. The perfect balance of sweetness and potency."

I swallowed hard, the weight of their eyes on me pressing down.  All I could do was stand there, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation of being nothing more than a prize in their eyes.

"Let’s start the bidding at fifty thousand," the auctioneer announced.

Immediately, a voice from the crowd called,

"Seventy."

"Eighty," another answered.

The numbers climbed fast, the murmurs growing louder.

"A million," a voice drawled from the darkness.

The entire room fell silent.

Even the auctioneer hesitated, his fingers twitching against my chin before he quickly let go.

A million dollars were obscene. Too much for a simple human pet. Too much for just a body to drain dry.

I couldn’t see his face—its features swallowed by the darkness that clung to him like a second skin.

My pulse quickened as I watched him rise from his seat, a subtle shift in his posture that made the air around him feel heavier. For a fleeting moment, I thought he might turn and walk away, disappearing into the shadows from which he came.

And then the light spilt over his face, revealing him fully. My breath caught my pulse a frantic drumbeat against my ribs, betraying me. He was, without question, the most devastatingly gorgeous man I had ever seen—dark, commanding, lethal in his beauty. A predator carved into the form of a god.

Power clung to him like a second skin, but it was his gaze that truly ensnared me, pinning me in place with an intensity I couldn’t comprehend.

I swallowed hard, dread coiling in my stomach like a living thing. This wasn’t just hell.

I was the offering. And he was the executioner.

There was something about the way he looked at me—no, through me—that made my skin heat, like his gaze could reach inside and touch parts of me that I hadn’t even known were there.

His eyes traced every inch of me like he was measuring, calculating, deciding. I felt exposed in a way I couldn’t describe, every part of me laid bare.

"A million," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "In cash."

Was I imagining it, or had the entire room gone silent?

It was as if time stopped, the world freezing around me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at him—this stranger who had just made an offer that shattered everything I thought I understood. A million.

A million for me.

No one dared outbid him.

And yet, there was no relief, no sense of salvation. Just a strange, suffocating weight pressing down on me.

The weight of the bidder’s voice settled over the room, thick with authority.

“Done.”

The sound of the word seemed to echo through the room, and everything else faded into a blur.

The hammer struck down. "Sold."

My stomach turned to ice.

I had no idea who had just bought me.

But judging by the fear lingering in the silence, I knew one thing:

I had been bought by a monster worse than any of them.

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