The Alpha Who Auctioned His Wife

Mireya

The air inside our modest house felt heavy enough to choke on—not from heat, but from sorrow that had nowhere left to go.

Mama sat near the window, folded into herself as though trying to disappear. Her gaze was distant, unfixed, while her shaking fingers traced the fractures in the glass pane again and again, like she was waiting for the Moon Goddess to answer through those cracks. Strands of silver threaded through her dark hair, framing her ashen face like remnants of a fire long extinguished. Ever since the cemetery—ever since they violated my sister’s resting place—something inside her had retreated completely. Her wolf no longer surfaced. It hid, wounded beyond reach.

I lowered myself beside her and carefully wrapped my hand around hers. Her skin felt cold.

“We’ll be gone soon,” I murmured, brushing my lips against her knuckles. “Two days, Mama. Just two more nights. After that, we disappear. Dominic, this pack—none of it will touch us again. I swear.”

Her eyes blinked slowly, unfocused, as though she were trying to remember who I was. Then a single tear slipped free. She didn’t speak—she almost never did now—but her fingers tightened faintly around mine, like she was anchoring herself to the last thing she trusted.

Everything was ready. Our bags were already packed and hidden beneath the loose boards in my old bedroom floor. I hadn’t told a soul—not even Sera, who sold herbs at the corner stall and sometimes looked the other way for me. The Ivyclaw Pack was no longer safe. Not with Dominic on the verge of taking full power. Not after he stripped me of everything.

I rested my head against Mama’s knee and closed my eyes. For a brief moment, there was a fragile calm between us, the kind that exists only in the still center of a storm.

Then the door shook violently.

A thunderous bang rattled the walls. Then another. And another.

My wolf surged instantly, bristling beneath my skin. I rose and stepped in front of my mother without thinking. “Who’s there?” I shouted—though dread already coiled tight in my chest.

The door burst inward.

Three wolves stormed inside, all wearing black with the Ivyclaw crest emblazoned over their hearts. Their eyes glimmered faintly, wolves close to the surface. They were massive, built like war machines, their scent thick with blood and iron.

Kael stepped forward first, a cruel grin stretching his face. “Alpha Dominic sends word.”

He tossed a crimson envelope onto the table. The gold seal was already broken.

“You’re expected at Miss Marianne’s birthday celebration,” he said. “Tonight.”

“I won’t be there,” I replied flatly.

Kael’s grin widened. “That’s a shame.”

Before I could react, he seized my mother’s arm and hauled her upright.

“Don’t touch her!” I screamed, half-shifting before forcing myself to stop. Mama whimpered, frail in his grip.

“Please—stop!” I choked. “I’ll go. I’ll go wherever you want. Just let her go!”

They shoved her aside like refuse. She collapsed into the chair, gasping softly.

My fists clenched until pain shot through my palms. Pride meant nothing now. Dignity was useless. The only thing that mattered was keeping her alive.

---

The banquet hall glittered obscenely—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, glass walls reflecting excess and power. The scent of wealth and dominance clung to the air. Marianne had turned the place into a shrine to herself. Alpha laughter echoed. Glasses clinked. Lunas whispered behind jeweled hands.

And then there was me.

While they shimmered, I stood in plain black. Barefaced. Unadorned. Defiance stitched over humiliation.

Marianne ruled the stage, draped in deep blue velvet, flawless and radiant. Dominic stood at her side, his arm draped casually around her waist. His eyes swept the room.

Then they found me.

Something flickered across his face—brief, sharp. A ghost of what once was. The look he used to give me in private, before everything burned.

Marianne followed his gaze and smiled viciously. “Attorney Mireya,” she crooned into the microphone. “I see you could make time after all.”

I didn’t respond. I stood still, unmoving.

“I arranged something special this evening,” she continued, laughing softly. “Just for you.”

As I was guided closer to the stage, she leaned in. “I know you’re sentimental.”

I didn’t understand what she meant. Not until something shifted in the air.

My breath caught.

A pull—strong, undeniable.

Warmth flared in my chest. My wolf reacted violently, snarling and crying out in confusion. My legs weakened.

My mate.

He was here. Somewhere among the crowd. I didn’t know his face or name—but I felt him, unmistakably.

The bond surged—

Then shattered.

The screen descended.

Sound filled the hall. Moans. Familiar. Horrifying.

I knew before I saw it.

Ysabel.

The same footage they’d used to torture her—now displayed for everyone.

“No…” I whispered, staggering forward.

Guards stopped me.

“Turn it off!” I screamed. “Stop it!”

Laughter rippled through the room.

“She doesn’t look unwilling.”

“Maybe she liked it.”

My lungs refused to work. My wolf clawed at my insides.

Marianne approached, smiling. “Isn’t it moving?”

Something broke.

I struck her.

The crack echoed through the hall. Dominic caught her as she stumbled, fury blazing.

“Have you lost your mind?!” he roared.

I faced him, shaking. “Do you enjoy this? Do you need to destroy her even now? Was any of it ever love—or were you always this empty?”

“You only ever saw her,” I whispered bitterly. “I was nothing to you.”

His jaw tightened. “You know the terms.”

The agreement.

“If you speak again,” he said quietly, “the next recording will involve your mother.”

That was it.

“I’ll remember this night,” I said flatly. “Every second.”

And I left.

---

I didn’t get far.

Hands dragged me into the alley. A hood. Blows.

I screamed. Fought. It didn’t matter.

“I’m a lawyer—” I tried to shout.

Slap.

Again. Again.

Pain blurred everything.

“Alpha Dominic. Punishment complete.”

“Good,” came the reply. “Payment sent.”

Darkness swallowed me.

I lay there, broken, my wolf whimpering.

And for the first time, I couldn’t even cry.