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I tore off the blindfold— And the world stopped breathing. Spotlights blazed down, revealing everything. The dress Sergio gave me—my former mate, the Lycan Prince—was sheer under the lights. My body, once cloaked in power and pride, now exposed to a sea of wolves. And I was standing in a golden cage. Gasps. Laughter. Whispers dripping with lust. Their eyes devoured me. "Alpha Dixon," Sergio's voice rang out, smooth and cruel, "you've always loved judging others. Now it's your turn." That's when I understood. I wasn't just modeling jewelry tonight. I was the exhibit. The final item on the auction list. Me. An Alpha. A leader. Reduced to a spectacle. And he—Sergio—had planned it all. For Malani. The little Delta I humiliated on stage. She clung to his arm now, smiling sweetly as the crowd placed their bids. A thousand voices roared. The numbers climbed. And I stood there, frozen, betrayed, burning with shame. But I am no one's prize. I am the Alpha of the Dixon Pack. And I will not be sold. They think they've broken me. They have no idea what I'm capable of. ... As Malani, the newest Delta warrior model under the Lycan Prince Sergio Moore's personal instruction, stumbled during her runway walk, the atmosphere at the pack auction turned electric. Gems scattered across the stage like broken promises. Sergio, infamous for his stormy eyes and noble bloodline, strode toward me at the judges' table, his presence commanding. "She's a bit fragile," he murmured, voice low, brushing against my Alpha instincts. "Go easy on her." I, Annalise Dixon—Alpha of the Dixon Pack and known for my unforgiving standards—offered no mercy. "A disaster," I said, my voice slicing through the murmurs. Malani's expression crumpled as she fled the stage, tears streaking her painted face. Sergio exhaled a rueful smile, concealing disappointment behind his sculpted features. "Not everyone thrives under pressure," he said, turning his attention to me—his ex-bond, the Alpha who had once shared his bed and battlefield. Instead of defending Malani further, Sergio redirected his energy toward me. He began escorting me to exclusive jewelry exhibitions, his compliments laced with both nostalgia and desire. "Only you are worthy of the world's rarest stones," he would whisper, fingers brushing mine under showcase lights. Then it arrived—an invitation to model at one of the most prestigious auctions. Sergio greeted me with a silk ribbon and a teasing smile. "I have a surprise for you," he said, blindfolding me with practiced gentleness. Sightless, I stepped onto the stage, aware of every breath in the room. I inhaled deeply—pack males, high-ranking wolves, their scents heavy with anticipation. The fabric Sergio had chosen for me was unfamiliar, a Victorian design tailored to my Alpha poise, yet strange to the touch. I traced the dress, uneasy. Sergio's voice interrupted, firm but warm. "No time, sweetheart. Get dressed." Once I complied, he tied the ribbon tighter. "Your eyes outshine the diamonds," he whispered, his tone indulgent. I scoffed softly. This was Sergio's domain—his auction, his rules. Yet something in the air felt off. A necklace was draped around my neck. It was heavy, regal. My fingers brushed its intricate design. I instinctively tilted my chin and lifted my hand to my chest to highlight the gem's brilliance. But laughter rippled through the crowd—unsettling, sharp. Wasn't that a standard model pose? The whispers grew louder. "That big? Didn't notice before." "Under these lights, it glows…" Elora Johnson, the auction coordinator, stepped in. "Our first item is Ocean's Tear," she announced, "a rare 10-carat diamond, encircled by sapphires. Starting bid: ten million." Before she finished, the bidding exploded. "Fifty million, going thrice! Sold! Mr. Smith, congratulations!" Relieved, I assumed the chaos was about the necklace. But then a presence approached. I stiffened. Sergio's voice soothed me. "Stay still. Mr. Smith is collecting his prize." Prize? My wolf stirred uneasily. Shouldn't items be retrieved post-auction? Why now?

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