Page 5 of Sold to the wrong Alpha
Ren blinked, confused, and then felt Rocco’s hand slide down from his forearm to his hand and slip something small into his palm. A piece of paper. Folded. Ren closed his fist around the note. The paper crinkled between his fingers. His pulse raced. What the hell?
“When the lights go out, run,” Rocco whispered.
Then he vanished into the shadows as if he’d never been there.
Ren spun his head and could only see the back of the man’s head and the bodyguard who was in his care. What was going on?
But there was no time to process it because the music changed, becoming deeper, more rhythmic, and the conversations in the room faded away.
The alphas took their seats.
A voice emerged from somewhere hidden, amplified by invisible speakers, soft and seductive as velvet over steel:
“Good evening, gentlemen. Welcome to our exclusive soiree.” A calculated pause as the lights dimmed even further. “Tonight we have an exceptional selection of omegas. We’ll be starting with two top-quality, prepared and ready to please.”
Ren’s stomach twisted.
“The rules are simple: bidding starts at one hundred thousand. Minimum increments are ten thousand. The winner takes all; no returns, no refunds.” Low laughter echoed through the room. “And now… allow us to present our first item.”
A spotlight flashed onto the empty stage.
Ren watched in horror as two men guided the omega in red into the light. The boy climbed the steps with unsteady steps, staying upright only because they were gripping him by both arms.
“Twenty-three years old. Unmarked, obviously. Flexible…” The voice continued listing characteristics as if describing a real estate listing while the alphas leaned forward in their seats.
That will be me in a few minutes.
The paper in his hand burned like hot coals.
Chapter 2
The omega stepped onto the platform with his head bowed, his shoulders tense beneath the red latex. He looked very young and very innocent under the spotlights.
Ren clenched his teeth until his jaw ached.
Malachi Kovac appeared from the side with the ease of the perfect host who turned cruelty into a spectacle. An impeccable dark suit, a courteous smile, his ring-laden hands outstretched as if presenting a work of art.
“Gentlemen,” Kovac’s voice filled the room, “tonight we have something exceptional.”
He approached the omega and placed a hand on his shoulder. The boy flinched.
“Sweet as honey. Obedient. And intact.”
The words hung in the air, thick with cigarette smoke and anticipation. Ren felt a wave of revulsion wash over him.
“Certified virgin,” Kovac continued, pulling a white envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. He held it aloft. “Complete medical documentation. Tests from just forty-eight hours ago. All verifiable, of course.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Interest. Greed. Disgusting.
“Given the rarity of the merchandise,” Kovac stroked the omega’s dark hair as if displaying a valuable object, “the minimum bid will be twenty thousand.”
The omega lifted his head for a second. His eyes swept the room, searching for something—anything—other than the nightmare surrounding him.
His gaze met Ren’s.
Two seconds. Maybe three. Long enough for Ren to see the pure panic etched into those pale features. His own face must also show the same expression. He felt the same animal terror as he knew he was trapped, exposed, and reduced to numbers and flesh.
God.
