I WAS AUCTIONED TO TWO MONSTERS

Rain hammered the city the night Lena Vale committed her crime.

Not theft. Not murder. Not betrayal.

Her true crime was loving her mother too much.

The hospital corridor smelled like bleach and dying flowers. Lena pressed her palm against the cool glass of room 412, watching the machines breathe for Evelyn Vale. Her mother's chest rose. Fell. Rose. Fell. Each mechanical breath cost more than most people made in a year.

But money never saved anyone.

Lena's reflection stared back at her from the window—dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled into a messy knot, the same high cheekbones Evelyn had in her wedding photo. Twenty-two years old and already feeling ancient.

"You should eat something."

Lena didn't turn around. "Not hungry, Sera."

Her older sister stepped closer, designer heels clicking against the sterile floor. Seraphina Vale looked like their mother before the sickness: polished, untouchable, every strand of blonde hair in place. She carried a leather portfolio under one arm and a guilt she never spoke about under her skin.

"Victor's downstairs," Seraphina said quietly. "He wants to talk about the board meeting tomorrow."

Victor.

Lena's jaw tightened. Victor Vale. Her stepfather. The man who smiled at cameras and poisoned everything he touched. Three years since he married Evelyn. Three years of watching him drain life from their mother like a spider drinking flies.

"Tell him I'm busy watching our mother die," Lena said.

"Lena—"

"Tell him. "

Seraphina's hand hovered near Lena's shoulder. Almost touching. Almost comforting. Then it dropped.

"Victor isn't the enemy," Seraphina whispered.

Lena finally turned. "Then who is?"

Her sister didn't answer. She just walked away, leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine perfume and something darker underneath.

Fear.

---

The underground clinic existed in the space between law and nightmare.

Lena found it through whispers on the dark web, through encrypted messages and payments in cryptocurrency, through favors called in from people who owed her mother everything. Evelyn Vale had spent decades building the largest pharmaceutical empire in the world. She had saved lives. Cured diseases. Made enemies.

And now she was dying from something no doctor could name.

But someone here could help.

The building looked abandoned from the street—boarded windows, graffiti tagging the bricks, the stench of rotting garbage in the alley. Lena pulled her hood tighter against the rain and knocked three times. Then twice. Then once.

A slot slid open. Two eyes peered out.

"Name."

"Lena Vale."

The door opened.

Inside, the world changed.

Bright lights. Sterile floors. Men and women in white coats rushing between rooms. The air smelled of antiseptic and something metallic—blood, maybe, or something older. Something wrong.

A woman in scrubs led Lena through a maze of corridors. "We heard about your mother. We're sorry."

"Can you help her?"

The woman didn't answer. She just opened a door marked PRIVATE and gestured inside.

The room was small. A single table. A single chair. And on the table, a glass vial filled with liquid that glowed faintly blue.

"Sit down, Miss Vale."

Lena didn't sit. "What is that?"

"The last experiment your mother funded before she got sick. She called it Serum Omega." The woman's voice lowered. "It can cure the incurable. Heal the unhealable. But it was never tested on humans."

"Then test it on me first."

"You don't understand. If it works, your mother lives. If it fails..." The woman hesitated. "There are things inside that serum that shouldn't exist. Things your mother discovered from sources we're not allowed to discuss."

Lena looked at the glowing vial.

She thought about her mother's pale hands. The way Evelyn used to braid her hair when she was little. The last time her mother laughed—really laughed—before the machines and the tubes and the slow, horrible fading.

"How much?"

"Five million."

Lena didn't flinch. "I'll have the money wired tonight."

"Miss Vale—"

"I don't care about the risk." She picked up the vial. The glass was warm. Alive. "I only care about her."

---

Three nights later, Evelyn Vale died.

Lena stood in the hospital room, watching the flatline scream across the monitor. The serum had arrived. The doctors had administered it. For one hour, her mother's color returned. For one hour, she almost smiled.

Then her organs failed all at once.

The serum didn't cure her. It accelerated the poison.

Victor arrived within minutes. He stood on the opposite side of the bed, wearing an immaculate black suit and an expression of carefully measured grief. His hand found Lena's shoulder—cold, possessive, victorious.

"You tried so hard," he murmured. "But some things can't be fixed."

Lena shrugged off his touch. "You wanted her dead."

Victor's eyes didn't change. "I wanted her to stop suffering. There's a difference."

"Liar."

Behind Victor, Seraphina stood in the doorway. Her face was pale. Her hands were shaking. She looked at Lena with something that wasn't grief.

It was warning.

But Lena was too angry to read the signs.

---

The funeral was a circus.

Cameras lined the street outside the church. Reporters shouted questions. Politicians pretended to cry. Victor stood at the podium, delivering a eulogy so polished it could have been written by a公关 team.

Because it was.

Lena sat in the front row, wearing a black dress that felt like a costume. Beside her, Seraphina clutched a handkerchief soaked with real tears. Their hands almost touched.

Then Victor announced the engagement.

"Evelyn's death leaves a hole in all our hearts," he said, voice breaking on cue. "But Seraphina and I have decided to honor her memory by continuing the Vale legacy. Together."

The crowd gasped.

Lena's blood went cold.

She turned to her sister. "What is he talking about?"

Seraphina wouldn't meet her eyes. "Lena, please—"

"You're marrying him? "

"It's not what you think—"

"Three weeks after our mother died? Three weeks? "

Victor's hand appeared on Seraphina's shoulder. The same hand. The same cold grip. "Your sister loves the company as much as Evelyn did. We're going to protect what your mother built."

You're going to steal it.

Lena stood up. The cameras flashed. The reporters leaned forward.

"You poisoned her," Lena said quietly.

The church went silent.

Victor's smile didn't waver. "Lena is grieving. Please give her space."

"You poisoned my mother, and now you're marrying my sister to cover it up."

Seraphina grabbed Lena's wrist. "Stop. Please. "

But Lena couldn't stop. The rage had been building for years—every cold dinner, every locked door, every time Victor looked at her mother like a problem to be solved.

"I have proof," Lena lied.

Victor's smile finally flickered.

Then the men in suits stood up from the back pew.

---

They arrested her that night.

Not for the poison. Not for Victor's crimes.

For embezzlement.

Five million dollars. Transferred from the Vale corporate accounts to an offshore shell company. The same five million Lena had paid for the serum.

Victor had made sure the transaction was traced. He had made sure the media received the documents. He had made sure the world would see Lena Vale as a greedy daughter who stole from her dying mother's company.

The headlines were brutal.

VALE HEIRESS ARRESTED FOR THEFT

DID LENA VALE HASTEN HER MOTHER'S DEATH?

INSIDE THE BETRAYAL: HOW A DAUGHTER FELL FROM GRACE

No one believed her. No one asked about the serum. No one wondered why Victor had married Seraphina exactly thirty days after Evelyn's funeral.

Lena sat in her holding cell, wrists raw from handcuffs, and stared at the concrete wall.

She had lost everything.

Her mother. Her freedom. Her sister.

And somewhere in the shadows of the city, Victor Vale was already planning her final disappearance.

---

They came for her at midnight.

Not police. Not guards.

Men in black tactical gear, moving silently through the station. The cameras went dark. The officers on duty vanished. By the time Lena realized what was happening, a hood was already over her head.

She fought. Bit. Screamed.

A needle pierced her neck.

Darkness.

---

She woke to cold.

Cold metal beneath her back. Cold air on her skin. Cold chains around her wrists and throat.

Lena opened her eyes.

She was on a stage.

Bright lights blazed overhead, blinding her. Below, shadows shifted—hundreds of them. Dark figures in expensive masks, sitting in velvet chairs, sipping champagne from crystal glasses.

An auction.

The realization hit like ice water.

Not a police station. Not a trial.

A sale.

Lena tried to move. The chains rattled. A man in a crimson mask stepped onto the stage, smiling beneath the fabric.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, voice echoing through the chamber. "Our final item of the evening."

The crowd murmured with anticipation.

"Lot Seven. Human female. Twenty-two years old. No magical affinity. No pack ties." The auctioneer paused for effect. "But her blood carries something... extraordinary. "

Lena's heart slammed against her ribs.

Her blood.

The serum. The glowing vial. Whatever her mother had injected into her before she died.

Oh God. The serum didn't kill Evelyn. It transferred into me.

"She was delivered personally by Victor Vale," the auctioneer continued. "Opening bid? One territory claim."

The crowd stirred.

Then a voice cut through the darkness.

Low. Cold. Human.

"Double."

The room went silent.

A man stepped into the light.

He wore a black suit tailored to his body like armor. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes the color of winter storms. He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't look at the auctioneer.

He looked at Lena.

Damian Crowe.

The youngest billionaire in the country. The king of luxury technology. The man who could buy governments and bury enemies without leaving evidence.

He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"I'll take her off your hands," Damian said softly.

The auctioneer stammered. "Mr. Crowe, the bidding procedure requires—"

"I don't follow procedures."

The crowd whispered. Somewhere in the darkness, a chair creaked.

Then another voice answered.

Deep. Ancient. Predatory.

"Triple."

The temperature in the room dropped.

Lena's chains rattled as she turned her head.

A shape emerged from the shadows at the back of the chamber. Massive. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair hanging past his shoulders, black tattoos crawling up his neck like living vines. His eyes glowed golden—not reflected light, but actual, impossible amber.

The crowd stopped breathing.

Kael.

The Alpha.

The creature beneath the city.

He walked forward slowly, boots echoing against the marble floor. Every step made the humans flinch. Every breath made the air taste like storm and blood.

He stopped in front of the stage.

Looked up at Lena.

And growled—low and possessive and absolutely inhuman.

"Mine," he said.

Damian Crowe laughed quietly. "She's not yours yet, wolf."

Kael's golden eyes didn't leave Lena's face. "Then bid, human. Let's see how badly you want to die tonight."

The auctioneer's voice cracked. "G-gentlemen, please—"

The bidding war began.

Millions became billions. Territories were promised. Bloodlines were threatened. The audience watched in horrified fascination as the two most powerful creatures in the underground fought silently over a single chained girl.

Lena stopped breathing.

This wasn't a dream.

This was her future—sold to monsters, fought over like meat, owned by creatures who saw her as nothing but a weapon or a womb or a thing to be consumed.

She pulled at the chains until her wrists bled.

No one noticed.

Damian raised his hand. "I'll match the wolf's bid and double his territory holdings."

Kael's claws extended—long, black, deadly. "You'll match nothing. I'll tear your throat out before she leaves this room."

"Gentlemen, please—"

"SOLD. "

The word came from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Lena looked up.

A figure stood at the top of the chamber—hooded, masked, holding a single glowing gavel.

"Lot Seven is sold," the figure announced. "To both buyers."

The crowd erupted.

Damian's smile vanished. Kael's growl shook the walls.

"Split custody," the figure continued. "Nights with the wolf. Days with the human. The girl belongs to neither—and to both."

Lena's chains unlocked.

She collapsed onto the cold stage, gasping, bleeding, terrified.

Damian walked toward her first. He knelt down, touched her chin with one cold finger, and tilted her face toward his.

"You're going to tell me everything about your mother's research," he whispered. "Or I'll make the wolf look gentle."

Then he stood and walked away.

Kael replaced him.

The Alpha didn't touch her. He just breathed—deep, shuddering, like he was tasting her soul.

"You smell like her," he murmured. "Like the prophecy."

"Stay away from me."

Kael smiled. It was the most terrifying thing Lena had ever seen.

"I can't," he said. "And neither can he."

He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Lena lay on the cold stage, wrists bleeding, heart splintering.

She had committed one crime: loving her mother too much.

And now she belonged to two monsters.

---

END OF CHAPTER ONE