Page 36 of Betrayed Auctioned Mate

Whatever it takes.

The auctioneer’s voice slices through my haze. “What a beauty, gentlemen! Fresh, young, and full of fight—this one won’t disappoint. Shall we start the bidding at ten thousand?”

Chapter 19 - Keira

It was dark in the back of the truck.

They must have dragged me out of the pack center, but I don’t remember it. I was unconscious for a while, and have no idea for how long.

I woke with chains biting into my wrists and ankles. Every bump in the road sent sharp jolts of pain through my body, and the stench of oil and dirt filled my nose. There was a canvas cover above me, and it was claustrophobic. It flapped in the wind off the highway, a racket I couldn’t handle.

My head throbbed where my attacker had hit me. I couldn’t focus on anything but the cold metal pressing into my skin, the constant rattle of chains around me.

When we pulled up at the mansion, I felt the blade that’s been lodged in me for all these years twist hard. I knew the building immediately.

I only got a glimpse of it before I had been wrestled out onto the gravel, a burlap sack pulled over my head and tied tight around my throat. I tried to fight at first—of course I did. But the men holding me were huge. Every time I struggled, they tightened the restraints, yanked me harder. The more I resisted, the more they seemed to enjoy it.

One of them leaned over me as I was escorted into the building, his breath hot and foul against my ear.

“Your disappearance will set an example,” he said, voice low and menacing. “Whoever your people are, they’ll learn not to meddle in things that don’t concern them.”

I couldn’t see it, but I felt his grin against my face, the kind of smile that made my stomach turn. I shuddered so hard Ifelt my hair rising at the roots. I was tugged inside, and darkness closed in around me.

Now, standing on the stage, I almost wish for the darkness.

I can’t see any more of the world around me than I did—the men bidding on me, the auctioneer grinning in the corner of my vision—the force of the lights over me blur everything out. But I can hear them. Their voices rise and fall, excited, eager. They’re discussing me like I’m not even a person, just another item for sale.

Ten thousand. Twenty thousand. Thirty thousand. Fifty thousand.

I can’t stop shaking. My knees threaten to give out beneath me, and I have to fight to stay upright. The bruise on my cheek throbs in time with my heartbeat.

Someone in the crowd roars with laughter as a tear rolls down my cheek.

I curse myself. I shouldn’t be seen as this weak. It’ll only make things worse for me later. I try to focus and think of something, anything that will get me out of this. Aren’t I a strategist? If there was anyone in the world that should be able to stay calm right now, especially given my experiences, it should be me.

But all I can hear are their voices, all I can feel are the lights burning into my skin, all I can see is the stage stretching out endlessly before me into the impenetrable dark of the seating ahead.

This can’t be happening, I think. It can’t be true. But it is. I’m on this stage, and I’m about to be sold to the highest bidder like I’m nothing more than property.

And nobody’s coming to save me. Just like last time.

Panic rises in my chest. I try to push it down. But this is different. This is a new kind of terror. I can’t fight. I can’t scheme. All I can do is stand here and wait for them to decide my fate.

All this time, I think, my life was preparing me to have to go through this again. It’s why I never stopped being scared. I’ve learned better than to believe in rescue. Hope is dangerous.

The auctioneer’s voice blurs into the background as the bidding escalates, but it’s all just noise to me. Numbers are tossed around casually, like I’m nothing more than a commodity. I try to block it out, but it’s impossible to ignore the cold truth that I am here, and I am alone. They’re going to sell me, and no one is coming to stop it.

Then, through the haze of voices, I hear something familiar. A voice, rough and urgent, cutting through the others. My heart skips a beat.

No. It can’t be.

It sounds like Ado.

He’s bidding, his voice rising higher and higher, almost frantic as he competes with the others.Ninety thousand. Ninety-five thousand. A hundred thousand dollars.But I can’t be sure. My mind is foggy, disoriented from the blow to my head, and I can’t tell if this is real or some cruel trick.

It could be someone else entirely. A cruel stranger who will lock me away forever and hurt me. Or someone from my past. Someone who used to hold me captive. A shadow from the days when I was trapped, alone, and helpless.

The past and present seem to blur together. I watch them fold into each other.

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