The Alpha’s Auction Night

The stench hit me first—blood, sweat, and desperation soaked into concrete.

I pressed deeper into the shadows of Black Hollow's balcony, watching the auction floor below like a predator watches prey.

My sister Lyra stood chained on the iron platform, pregnant belly swollen under the harsh lights, and every instinct in me screamed to tear through the crowd.

Not yet.

"Five thousand for the pup's paternity test!" A wolf from the Blackwood pack slammed his fist on the table.

"Seven thousand!" Another howled, eyes glazed red from Lyra's Omega pheromones.

They weren't bidding for love—they were bidding for bloodline rights.

Whoever claimed the pup would climb the pack hierarchy on my sister's broken back.

Lyra's voice cracked through the noise. "Cole! Cole, please!"

My fingers dug into the railing until metal groaned.

Cole Blackwood stood at the front, my sister's ex-fiancé, with that viper Serena Vale draped over his arm like a trophy.

He looked at Lyra the way you'd look at spoiled meat.

"That bastard in your belly is a dirty bet, Lyra," Cole said, his voice carrying over the jeers. "You spread your legs for half the underground that night."

Serena giggled, high and cruel. "She was so drunk, she probably doesn't even remember who touched her."

Laughter erupted like a disease.

Lyra collapsed to her knees, sobbing, chains rattling.

I'm going to kill them all.

The thought came cold and clean, like the first breath after drowning.

But killing them quickly would be mercy they didn't deserve.

"Blood test time!" Mara Quill, the auctioneer, waved a silver needle like a conductor's baton. "Let's find out who daddy is!"

The crowd roared approval, chips and cash scattering across tables as bets flew.

They were turning my sister's pregnancy into a gambling show.

I started forward, every muscle coiled—

Then the air pressure dropped.

Alpha pheromones slammed through the room like a tidal wave, and every wolf in the place stiffened.

Damon Nightgrave stepped through the entrance.

Top-tier Alpha. Nightgrave Clan's ruthless heir. And the man I once thought I could trust.

He surveyed the room with those cold silver eyes, and for one stupid second, I thought he'd stop this circus.

Then he spoke, voice like frost over steel.

"Open RedMoon Net. Stream this live."

The room exploded into feral excitement.

RedMoon Net—the darknet's premium humiliation channel, where the wealthy paid to watch Omegas destroyed.

They weren't just going to auction my sister. They were going to broadcast her degradation to every predator in the city.

Lyra's face went white as bone.

Her eyes found mine across the crowd—desperate, terrified, pleading.

I smiled.

Not at her. At them.

Because in the shadows behind me, Kieran Wolfsbane and my Shadow Guard were already moving into position.

And in my pocket, my fingers closed around the remote that would cut every signal in this hellhole.

"Start the countdown!" Silas Crowhurst barked, the hunt master's eyes gleaming with greed.

Ten.

Camera lights blazed on, focusing on Lyra's tear-streaked face.

Nine.

Serena adjusted her hair for the camera, already performing.

Eight.

Cole cracked his knuckles, ready to deliver the final insult on stream.

Seven.

My thumb hovered over the button.

They want a show? I'll give them a show.

Six. Five. Four.

I pressed down.

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