Chapter 1 The Auctioned Bride

The heavy oak doors groaned open, revealing a marble corridor that seemed to stretch into eternity. Aria Blackwood took a single step forward, the soft click of her heels against the stone floor sounding far too loud in the deafening silence. Her heart pounded like war drums in her chest, but her expression remained blank—a mask she’d perfected over years of hiding. She was about to be sold like livestock. Candles flickered in tall, golden sconces along the walls, casting shadows that danced like spirits of the past. The scent of polished wood, old blood, and burning sage filled the air, nearly making her gag. She wasn’t used to opulence. Not anymore. Not since her pack was slaughtered. “Keep walking,” a council guard murmured behind her, his voice laced with boredom and barely veiled contempt. Aria’s chin lifted a fraction. She didn’t need reminding. Every step she took was etched in her memory like a countdown to the end of her freedom. She entered the Grand Hall of Elders—a vast room with towering windows, crystal chandeliers, and rows of Alphas seated in velvet-covered thrones. Dozens of eyes turned to her. Hungry. Calculating. Predatory. At the far end, elevated above the rest, sat the Council of Elders—five ancient wolves who governed the territories and sanctioned this barbaric event: The Alpha Bride Auction. It was a tradition as old as the packs themselves, born from war and greed. Powerful Alphas competed for rare she-wolves to solidify their dominance and bloodlines. And Aria… she was the final offering of the night. She walked slowly to the raised dais in the center, a stage crafted of obsidian stone and rimmed in silver. The elder beside her adjusted his robes and cleared his throat. “Presenting the final bride,” he announced, his voice magically amplified through the hall. “Aria of House Blackwood. Age: eighteen. Status: unmated. Virgin. No ties to any pack. Bloodline—unconfirmed, though whispers suggest a lost lunar heritage.” Whispers rippled through the hall. Aria heard the words they didn’t dare say aloud—omega, wild, untouched, dangerous. She stood tall, refusing to tremble under their gazes. “She is of high value,” the elder continued. “As per tradition, bidding begins at one million blood marks.” A pause. Then— “Two million,” a voice rang out from the right side of the hall. Aria didn’t flinch, though her fingers curled slightly at her sides. She didn’t recognize the bidder—an older Alpha with white-streaked hair and narrowed eyes. Eastern Territory, perhaps. “Three million,” another voice snapped, younger, sharper. “Five.” “Seven.” The bidding accelerated, each voice growing more aggressive. She was being fought over like a prize cow. Her stomach twisted, but her face remained blank. Then the room fell suddenly silent as a new voice sliced through the tension like a blade. “Ten million.” Aria’s breath caught. That voice—smooth, deep, and cold—was unmistakable. A figure rose from the shadows at the far left of the hall, dressed in dark tailored clothing. Though he wore no crown, his presence alone commanded silence. A wolf among wolves. Aria’s gaze locked with his. Her blood turned to ice. Dominic Thorne. Alpha King. Supreme ruler of the Northern Territories. Nicknamed The Beast of the North for his merciless campaigns and brutal discipline. He didn’t often attend these auctions—but when he did, he never left empty-handed. And five years ago, he had led the massacre of her pack. Her throat tightened, but she held his stare. “Fifteen million,” someone challenged, but the voice faltered. Dominic didn’t even look in the challenger’s direction. “Twenty million,” he replied calmly. No one else spoke. The elder cleared his throat nervously. “Sold… to His Majesty, Alpha King Dominic Thorne.” The gavel slammed down. Just like that, her fate was sealed. --- Backstage, Aria stood in a silent dressing chamber, staring at her reflection in a gold-framed mirror. The ceremonial silver dress they had forced her into shimmered like moonlight. She hated how beautiful it made her look—like a doll. A fragile prize. Her heart raged in her chest, but her face betrayed nothing. A knock sounded at the door. A servant stepped in without waiting for permission. “You are to be escorted to your husband’s estate within the hour,” the woman said, avoiding eye contact. “Do you need help changing?” “No.” The servant bowed slightly and left, the door clicking shut behind her. Alone again, Aria peeled the dress off and replaced it with a simple traveling gown provided by the council. She didn’t care about appearances. Her body, her blood, and now her entire life had been bought by the man she had vowed in her heart to hate forever. She pressed her palm to her flat stomach and whispered, “Mother, wherever you are… I swear I’ll survive. I’ll uncover the truth. And I’ll make him pay.” --- The car that picked her up was obsidian black with tinted windows. Dominic sat inside, silent and unreadable. He didn’t acknowledge her as she slid into the seat beside him. For several minutes, they drove in silence. Aria stared out the window, watching the night blur past. “You hate me.” His voice startled her, low and calm. She turned her head slightly, keeping her face composed. “You bought me.” “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t pretend it’s anything else.” “Then why ask if I hate you?” His gaze was sharp when it met hers. “Because I’ve seen women who feared me. Women who fawned over me. But I’ve rarely seen one who looked at me like she wanted to kill me.” Aria’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “Maybe I do.” “Good,” he said, turning away. “I prefer honest wolves.” The rest of the drive was silent. --- The Thorne estate loomed like a fortress carved from black ice—cold, imposing, and beautiful in a terrifying way. Guard towers flanked the iron gates, and silver lanterns lit the courtyard in pale light. Inside, the mansion was lavish—dark mahogany walls, blood-red carpets, and chandeliers dripping with crystals. Yet everything felt hollow. Like a palace without a soul. A servant led Aria to her chambers, a massive suite that smelled faintly of cedar and smoke. A fireplace burned quietly in the corner. “You’ll dine with the Alpha tomorrow,” the servant said, bowing slightly. “Tonight, you may rest.” When she was finally alone, Aria let her shoulders drop. She crossed the room and locked the door behind her. Then she walked to the bed and collapsed—not in grief, but in exhaustion. Every muscle in her body was tight from restraint. The room was too quiet. Too sterile. She curled beneath the thick blankets and stared at the ceiling. How had her life come to this? Sold like a lamb to the man who had taken everything from her. Her family. Her future. Her name. No—he hadn’t taken her name. She still carried it. She would wear it like armor. And one day, Dominic Thorne would learn the truth. She was not just an omega. Not just a virgin bride. She was the last of the Moon Blessed line. And she had not come here to be his queen. She had come to destroy him. ---