Chapter 4

The lights haven’t even dimmed yet when the first bid hits the air.

“Five hundred thousand,” someone says smoothly from the left wing.

The announcer barely blinks, hand lifting lazily as if he’d expected it. “Ah, starting strong. We love the enthusiasm.”

My blood’s still dripping from the cut, sealed now with some shiny medical patch like it makes me whole again. It doesn’t. I was passed off to one of the black-clad assistants who slapped on a glimmering adhesive patch with no more ceremony than sticking a price tag on fruit. The patch is silver-edged, branded with some vampire crest I don’t recognize.

Another voice joins. “Seven hundred.”

The crowd perks up.

I hear the click of pens, the rustle of silk, whispers curling around me like smoke. I don’t lift my chin, don’t flinch. But my heart’s a drummer high on adrenaline, pounding out a tempo meant for war.

The vampire woman—the one who licked her lips earlier with violet eyes—leans forward, a smile as sharp as her cheekbones. “One million,” she purrs.

A soft gasp ripples nearby.

I blink once. Twice. Bite down the disgust clawing up my throat.

She winks at me like I should be flattered.

I’m not.

“Three million,” comes another call. Deeper voice. Cocky.

The announcer spins toward the source, his grin oily. “And from Lord Devryn, as expected. Trying to buy your way into exotic indulgences again, aren’t you?” He tsks.

I don’t look. I know it’s the one from before. The one who sipped something dark from a fragile glass like he owned the world and was bored of it. He didn’t look at the stage then. But now, I feel his gaze slide over me like a brand.

“Territory rights,” he adds, lazy and smug. “I’ll throw in my land west of the Deltha border. Not like I use it.”

The announcer actually blinks this time. “You know you can’t bribe the council, Lord Devryn,” he says sweetly. “Naughty.”

More laughter. Nervous. Tense. Like everyone knows we’re past the point of following rules.

I catch the smallest shift of motion.

The blue-eyed vampire lifts his paddle.

Not a sound.

He doesn’t speak, just raises it high, the number on it covered by his other hand.

The announcer pauses, squinting at the card in hand, then at the raised paddle. A slow and wicked smirk tugs at his lip. “Ah. A shadow bid,” he drawls, his tone rich with mock intrigue. “No number, no name. How thrilling. Only one vampire in this room is arrogant enough to play by his own rules.” He tips his head toward the blue-eyed vampire like they share a long, bloody history. “Classic.”

The vampire woman narrows her violet eyes and raises her own paddle again. “Four.”

The crowd stirs.

Blue Eyes lifts his paddle again. Still covering the number.

Devryn leans back in his seat like he’s considering something terribly uninteresting. Then his voice cuts through the tension, as he points at the announcer. “Six million. And access to my private cellars.”

The announcer whistles. “Now that’s excessive.” Then, lowering his voice to the mic, he says, “You must be very thirsty.”

There’s a ripple of more laughter.

I breathe in stale air and expensive perfume and something metallic I try not to name.

The blue-eyed vampire doesn’t wait. His eyes are on me now. Just me. And when he speaks, it’s not loud.

Just one word.

“Double.”

It lands like a strike of lightning.

Gasps. Chairs creak. One of the vampires in the second row physically chokes on whatever they were drinking.

Another drops their pen.

Even the announcer falters.

Even Devryn looks up now, his smirk slipping just enough to be noticed. He leans forward, expression unreadable as he stares at the blue-eyed vampire like he’s trying to solve an old riddle that just started bleeding.

The announcer’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, my,” he says. “That’s not just a bid, is it? That’s a declaration.” Then louder, reveling in it, he announces, “Ten million. Final offer, by the mysterious bidder in black.”

Silence.

No one counters.

Devryn lifts his glass in mock surrender.

The vampire woman scowls.

The blue-eyed vampire doesn’t move. His paddle remains raised.

The announcer drags it out, slow and theatrical. “Going once... going twice...”

My spine locks.

“Sold.”

The gavel cracks the air like a whip.

“To the esteemed Dravens’ House,” the announcer purrs, drawing out every syllable. “Our little blood jewel has a new home.”

And that’s when the blue-eyed vampire opens the tiniest smile of pure satisfaction. Like a wolf who didn’t just catch the rabbit—he made the rabbit run first.

🥀 🥀 🥀

They don’t even let me change.

The next thing I know, I’m being dragged down cold hallways, then shoved into the back of a dark vehicle that smells like leather, iron, and old blood. My wrists are cuffed, chained to a bar bolted to the floor. The metal bites into my skin every time the car bumps.

The brunette girl sobs quietly beside me. The purple-haired one—still shifted, eyes wild—sits in the far corner, muzzled and shackled so tightly her skin’s turning red. She’d broken free during the chaos after the auction and made a full sprint—right for the announcer. Leaped with her claws out, teeth bared. She nearly took off his hand. They subdued her fast, but not before she proved a point. She’s trussed like a rabid animal, seething in silence in the back.

So now we’re all chained even though they don’t see me as a threat.

Guilty by association.

The first vehicle is cramped. No windows. Just cold air and colder silence. “Where are we going?” I ask again, my voice slicing through the quiet. No one answers. Just the hum of tires on asphalt, relentless.

Beside me, the brunette girl shifts, her patience snapping. “Seriously, what the hell is—”

The man across from her turns slowly, his head, and his gaze slides over her body like a stain. Not a word. Just that slick look, peeling her open inch by inch. Her mouth clicks shut.

The engine growls. No one speaks.

They transfer us hours later. I know because snow is falling when the doors open.

I stagger out under the white sky, blinking. Ice crunches beneath my shoes. They shove me toward a sleeker car—luxury, not transport, I observe.

That’s when I see him.

The blue-eyed vampire.

Leaning against the car like he owns the whole mountain behind him with his jaw clenched, watching everything.

Our eyes lock.

And his expression changes to something… soft.

He strides forward, fast. My heart skips a beat.

Then he circles the car, his gaze dropping the moment he reaches me.

He sees the chain.

Sees the bruises from the restraints.

A beat. A breath. His jaw tightens. He stares at them with a rage barely leashed.

“Can you please take it off?” I ask, quieter than I mean to.

His eyes flick to the two vampires behind me.

Then back to me.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Finally, I hear his deep voice saying, “No.” He steps back. “Start getting used to it.”