Chapter 3

Scarlett's POV.

"NO!" I cry out as the sickening crunch of metal against metal fills the air. The motorcycle skids across the pavement, and its rider slams into the ground with a bone-shattering thud. Panic consumes me.

"Please, please be okay," the driver whispers. Shakily, I step out of the car, approaching the fallen figure with dread building in my stomach.

"Hey! Are you alright?" I call out, my voice trembling. To my astonishment, the man groans and pushes himself off the ground, his movements unnaturally swift. As he stands, I notice the deep gash in his leg closing up before my eyes. A werewolf. I've seen it before when Elliot, my friend from veterinary school, had cut himself on a scalpel during class. In the blink of an eye, he had healed. I had turned his hand from front to back, marveling at his resilience.

The man shakes his head as if releasing the pain through his stringy hair. It whips about his face, leaving noticeable grease marks under the sodium-vapor lamp. He spots me and starts to move. As he comes closer, his snarling mouth reveals glimpses of gleaming teeth, sharp and predatory. My fear deepens as I swear I see his canines elongate, and my breath catches in my throat. The sodium-vapor lamp casts eerie shadows across his features, accentuating the wildness in his eyes and the intensity of his expression.

"Rowan!" I screamed. He is the man I met earlier on the plane. He just smirks, but no response to my words as if he doesn't know me at all. "It seems you know my brother, but so what?"

"You just messed-up, little girl," he growls, his voice dripping with menace as he advances toward me. Every step he takes sends a shiver down my spine. His presence is overwhelming, filling the night air with a palpable sense of danger.

"No, no, no not me. It's..." I pointed to the driver, but I can only see no one.

He wears a black leather jacket that hangs from his tall frame. The jacket is adorned with silver studs and patches, indicating his allegiance to some sort of biker gang. Underneath, he sports a dirty, faded gray t-shirt His jeans are worn and torn, hanging loosely from his body.

He looks like he's on drugs. Werewolves, like humans, have addictions too.

For a second, my feet won't move. They finally do when he is a foot from me, his rancid breath and pungent sweat making me gag and propel my body to walk backward. I could have walked to the moon to avoid him but I stop when my hip bumps the hood of the little gray Honda.

"But since you're an acquaintance, you should come with me."

He enters the passenger side at the same time I slip into the driver's seat.

Why didn't I lock the damn door?

"Drive," he snarls.

"Wh-where are we going?" I stammer, my legs shaking so hard I can barely push down the clutch to start the engine. My hands aren't much better. They take on a life of their own as I drop the keys three times on the mat, each time I retrieve them I sense the patience of the man wearing thinner and thinner.

“Drop those keys one more time…” His treat hangs in the air like a seagull contemplating a deep dive to catch his meal. The authority in his tone sends another wave of terror through me. My instinct is to obey, my survival is at stake. What choice do I have?

The key I manage to keep holding slips into the ignition. The clink sound it makes seals my doom. I turn it, cranking the engine to life. With my hands still shaking, my body comprehends what my mind still has not.

My life has taken a terrifying turn, and there's no going back now.

***

Lorien's POV.

The steady hum of the engine is a backdrop to the racing thoughts in my mind. Driving home from the airport with Jasper gives me a minute to process what happened at the airport.

Scenting my mate, after all these years, sends a surge of electric excitement through my veins. It's a feeling I've been waiting for, a connection I've yearned to make. My wolf stirs within me, restless and eager, echoing my own anticipation. She's out there, somewhere, the one destined to be mine. But as the adrenaline courses through me, a twinge of disappointment gnaws at my joy. I couldn't find her face in the crowd, couldn't match that intoxicating scent to a person. It's a cruel twist, to come so close and yet remain so far…

I've fantasized a thousand times about how elegant and perfect her face, my werewolf Luna, must be.

The reality of the situation hits me like a wave and I catch myself clutching my chest. Was it all just a cruel joke, to have us meet without ever knowing who she is? Worse still, what if I never find her? These thoughts haunt me, no matter how much I try to distract myself.

It's all I can do to focus on the road ahead instead of turning around and seeking her out, running through the woods, guided by the heat of her scent. I'd go all the way up to Canada and beyond if I had to. It was like every other part of my life faded away in that moment and all I wanted to do was find her.

Sighing, I shake these thoughts from my head and focus on the journey ahead. Now is not the time to dwell on what could have been, but instead take heart in knowing that although our paths will cross one day.

My phone beeps with Rolf's chime. Must be the intel for the auction tonight.

“Jasper, can you get that and read the text to me?” I'm all about safe driving.

Jasper retrieves my phone from the console of the Jeep and reads out the information with his usual sense of urgency and efficiency. "Lorien, I've got all the details right here," he says. "It's at a remote cave, Rolf provided a map and coordinates. These guys are playing it safe - they even want everybody to wear masks! And here's another kicker - payment only in Bitcoin, plus they're taking an exorbitant fifteen percent auction fee. This isn't their first rodeo."

The words hang in the air like a foul stench, each term more repulsive than the last. As I navigate the road, irritation simmers beneath my skin. These terms reek of exploitation, and it's a bitter reminder of the darkness that exists even in our supernatural world.

"You're telling me," I grunt in agreement, my jaw clenched. The disappointment courses through me, a bitter aftertaste to the excitement I felt at the scent of my mate. How could creatures stoop so low, treating others as commodities to be sold? The anger churns within me, a roiling storm of emotion that I struggle to contain.

Jasper's disgusted expression reflects my own feelings, his loyalty to our pack mirroring my own. It's a bond we share, a shared responsibility to protect our kind from the darkness that threatens to consume it. As he mutters about the terms, I find some solace in the fact that I'm not alone in my condemnation.

I grunt in agreement, gunning the car even faster as if I could run down those bastards in the road and get back to the business of finding my mate. "We'll have to drive to the pack house to get ready," I mutter, more to myself than to Jasper. The thought of preparing for the auction feels like a boulder settling in the pit of my stomach. So much I could be doing instead of dealing with this crap. The need to find my mate wars with my duty as King, spinning my thoughts out of control.

"Can't afford to be recognized, not now," I continue, struggling to keep my mind on the task at hand. It's damn difficult with my wolf growling in my head, urging me to seek out my other half. "Mask our scents too, keep us off their radar." My fingers drum a staccato rhythm against the leather, frustration simmering just below the surface.

Scarlett's POV

From within the darkness, a figure steps forward, his voice resonating with a deep, unsettling timbre. “Ah, our guest of honor has arrived. We've been waiting for you.”

As my eyes gradually adjust to the gloom, a whimper escapes my lips. The room is populated by powerfully built men, their forms emerging from the shadows as they approach with an air of grim anticipation. And then, their faces come into view, each wearing a mask that seems to belong to a macabre nightmare.

One man breaks off from the rest and approaches me. His mask is a nightmarish fusion of organic and mechanical elements.

My heart hammers against my ribs as he appraises me, his gaze crawling over my form from top to bottom.

His gloved hand reaches out, fingers like cold talons as he curls a lock of my hair around his finger. I can't help but shiver at his touch, a wave of revulsion sweeping through me.

I swallow hard, my voice trembling as I manage to find words. "Who are you? What do you want?"

He tilts his head, the mask's artificial grin twisting into something that seems far more sinister. "Names don't matter here, my dear. What matters is that I desire what I see before me. A human, untouched by the supernatural world, a rarity indeed."

I take a step back, my gaze darting between the masked men surrounding me. Fear and anger intertwine within me, a potent cocktail of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me. This man, this stranger, views me as nothing more than a commodity.

"Well, you can't have me," I retort, my voice wavering but defiant. “I'm engaged!”

The man's laughter is like an unsettling melody, a symphony of malevolence that reverberates in the dark chamber. "Oh, my dear, I don't care about that. It will be all the more fun breaking you after I've bought you in the auction tonight.”

“B-b-bought me?” I squeak, my voice breaking.

“That's right dear, everything has a price. And trust me, I'm willing to pay whatever it takes to possess something as exquisite as you."

My heart races like a frantic drumbeat. The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating, as I struggle to comprehend their meaning. Bought. Auction. Tonight.