Chapter 3
The restaurant lights dimmed without warning, plunging the elegant space into shadow. My heart hammered against my ribs as a single spotlight illuminated the raised platform where Victoria sat. She rose gracefully, her white gown catching the light like fresh snow—a traditional mate ceremony dress.
No. This couldn't be happening.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Noah's voice boomed through hidden speakers, smooth as aged whiskey. "Thank you all for joining us on this momentous occasion."
Victoria glided toward him, and my stomach twisted as he took her hand, bringing it to his lips. The gesture was intimate, practiced—how many times had they done this before? While I was teaching children their letters, while I was skipping meals to save money for Lily's treatments, they had been...
"As many of you know," Noah continued, his arm sliding around Victoria's waist, "my beautiful mate has finally returned from her extended stay in Europe."
Mate. The word hit me like a physical blow. Around me, pack members murmured their congratulations, raising glasses in toast. Someone's champagne flute clinked against another, the sound sharp as breaking bones.
"But before we begin the formal ceremony," Noah's eyes found mine across the room, pinning me in place, "we have a special entertainment planned. A little game, if you will."
The massive screen behind them flickered to life, and my blood turned to ice.
There I was, asleep in my bed, hair spread across the pillow. The image was intimate, vulnerable—taken from inside my bedroom. My hands shook as the photo dissolved into another: me changing clothes, captured through a gap in my curtains. Then another: me at school, bending to help a student, unaware of the camera's predatory gaze.
"What—" The word barely escaped my throat.
"Each photo has a starting bid," Noah announced cheerfully, as if auctioning off furniture instead of pieces of my privacy. "All proceeds will go to charity, of course. We know how much our dear Olivia loves helping those in need."
Numbers appeared beneath each image. $500. $1,000. $2,500 for one where I was fresh from the shower, a towel barely covering me.
Laughter rippled through the crowd—cruel, knowing laughter that made my skin crawl. These weren't just random pack members. These were Betas, Deltas, wolves with power and money who saw me as nothing more than entertainment.
"You see," Noah's voice carried over the noise, "for three years, I've been conducting a social experiment. How long could a wolfless charity case believe she was loved? How much would she sacrifice for a lie?"
My knees threatened to buckle. Wolfless. He'd known all along that my wolf was dormant, weak. Every sweet word, every gentle touch—all of it calculated.
"The answer?" He paused dramatically. "Everything. Her savings, her dignity, even that precious silver pendant she claimed meant so much." His smile was razor-sharp. "All for a sick child who never existed."
Victoria's laughter tinkled like broken glass. "Oh, Noah, you're being too harsh. Little Lily does exist—she's just not your cousin." She placed a manicured hand on her flat stomach. "She's our daughter. And thanks to Olivia's generous donations, she's attending the finest boarding school in Switzerland."
The room spun. I'd been paying for their child's education while barely affording groceries. The handkerchief in my hands—my pathetic peace offering—fell to the floor.
"Shall we start the bidding?" Noah asked, gesturing to the screen where my stolen moments hung like trophies. "Who wants to own a piece of the naive country teacher who thought she could play with wolves?"
A Beta in the corner raised his hand. "Five hundred for the bedroom shot!"
"Eight hundred!" called another.
Their voices blended into white noise as my world collapsed. Three years. Three years of lies, manipulation, and theft—not just of money, but of my trust, my love, my very soul.
My wolf stirred again, stronger this time, her rage mixing with mine. But what could we do? We were surrounded by stronger wolves, trapped in Noah's twisted game.
As bids flew and laughter grew louder, one thought crystallized in my mind: Ethan. The Alpha who had raised me, protected me, then pushed me away. I'd blocked our connection for three years, too proud and hurt to reach out.
But pride meant nothing now. Nothing mattered except escape.
Closing my eyes, I reached for that severed thread, that connection I'd buried deep. *Alpha Ethan,* I called into the void, not knowing if he'd even hear me after so long. *Help me. Please.*
The auction continued around me, but I barely heard it. Everything hung on a prayer to a man I'd run from—and the desperate hope that somewhere, he was listening.
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