The Auction of Honor

Elena POV:

Three days later, I walked into the Grand Ballroom, leaning heavily on a cane.

The silver wound had closed, but the limp remained. Tonight was the Annual Charity Auction.

I wore a dress of deep crimson silk, high-necked to cover bruises, with a slit revealing my bandaged leg. I wore my injury like a badge of war.

"Elena," a soft voice spoke beside me.

Javier, the pack Beta. He held a glass of champagne, eyes scanning the room nervously.

"You shouldn't be walking on that leg," Javier said.

"I'm fine, Javier."

"Damien is here," Javier warned. "And he brought her."

I looked across the room. Damien was in a tuxedo. Eve was clinging to his arm, wearing a white dress that looked suspiciously like a wedding gown.

The auction began. Items came and went.

Then, the auctioneer unveiled the centerpiece.

"Lot number 45. The 'Tears of the Ocean'."

A necklace of blue diamonds and moonstones. A symbol of the ultimate Luna.

"Bidding starts at five hundred thousand," the auctioneer announced.

"Six hundred," I said.

"Seven hundred!" Damien's voice rang out.

I turned. He was grinning at me.

"Eight hundred," I countered.

"One million!" Damien shouted.

The crowd gasped.

"One point two," I said.

"Two million!" Damien yelled. He was manic. He wanted to buy the symbol of my birthright for his mistress.

I raised my paddle. "Two point five."

"Three million!" Damien roared.

I paused. I lowered my paddle.

"Sold to Mr. Damien Paul for three million dollars!"

Damien smirked, puffing out his chest. He walked to the stage, Eve trailing behind him like a excited puppy. He pulled out a black card—not his personal one, but the Emergency Tactical Reserve card.

"Put it on this," Damien told the clerk loudly. "Pack security expense."

He shot me a look of triumph. He thought he'd outsmarted me. He thought I'd only frozen his personal accounts.

The clerk swiped it. Frowned. Swiped it again.

"I'm sorry, sir," the clerk said into the microphone, his voice echoing through the silent hall. "This card has been flagged. 'Unauthorized Access'."

Damien froze. "That's impossible. Try it again."

"It's frozen, sir. By order of the CFO, Miss Barron."

I smiled from across the room. I had audited the tactical funds that morning.

"It seems the Head Warrior is insolvent," I said, my voice carrying clearly.

Damien looked at Eve. She was reaching for the necklace, but the clerk pulled it back.

"I'll pay later!" Damien shouted, sweat beading on his forehead. "I am the future Alpha!"

"Cash or credit now, sir," the clerk said firmly. "Next bidder?"

"I'll take it," I said, raising my hand. "For two point five. Since the previous bidder defaulted."

The auctioneer nodded. "Sold to Miss Elena Barron."

I walked to the stage, handed over my personal card—which cleared instantly—and took the box.

I looked at Damien and Eve.

"You can't afford the price of leadership, Damien," I whispered. "Or the jewelry."

Eyes in the Den

Elena POV:

I didn't sleep that night. I sat in my room, staring at the bank of monitors I had set up.

After the stable "accident," I had installed hidden cameras everywhere.

On screen three, I saw the Warrior's wing. Damien was with his brothers, drinking.

"Did you see her face?" Leo laughed. "She looked like she was going to shift right there on stage."

"She's weak," Damien said, swirling his drink. "She relies on her daddy's money. Today proved that without the Barron name, she's nothing."

I watched, face stone cold.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom rattled.

I spun around. Locked.

Click.

The lock turned. Damien had the master key.

He walked in, smelling of whiskey. He didn't knock. He just intruded into my Den.

"What do you want?" I asked, hand drifting toward a silver-laced dagger in the drawer.

"To talk," Damien said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "About the wedding."

"There is no wedding," I said.

"There is," he said firmly. "Your father won't call it off. The merger depends on it."

"You are not an Alpha," I spat. "You are a bully."

"I am what this pack needs!" He stood up, pacing. "Look, Elena. Eve... she's special. She's fragile. She is my First Priority. Always."

"And your wife?"

"You are the partner," Damien said, explaining it like I was a child. "You run logistics. You bear heirs. But Eve... she is the heart. If there is a fire, I save her. If there is a choice, I choose her."

He reached into his pocket and tossed a small velvet box onto my desk.

"A peace offering," he said.

I opened it. A thin gold chain with a generic wolf charm. Gas station trash.

"You tried to spend three million on her," I said quietly. "And you give me this?"

"It's the thought that counts," he shrugged. "Wear it. It shows you accept your place."

He walked to the door. "We get married in two weeks, Elena. Get used to the new order."

He left.

I looked at the monitors showing him returning to his brothers, laughing.

Midnight let out a long, mournful howl in my mind. A summoning song.

He is diseased, Midnight whispered. We need a King.

I threw the cheap necklace into the trash.

"I accept nothing," I whispered.

I turned back to my computer. I opened a new window.

To: Alpha King Hunter Beach, Tech Pack.

Subject: An Alliance.

If Damien wanted to play the villain, I would introduce him to a monster.

The Blood Ruby

Elena POV:

My twenty-first birthday party was a diplomatic hostage situation.

The ballroom was suffocating. Every high-ranking wolf in the state was here, watching the heiress with the limp.

I stood near the champagne fountain, leaning on my cane.

"Smile," my father hissed. "The Southern Alpha is watching."

I plastered a fake smile on my face.

Then, the courier arrived. A human in a grey uniform, carrying a small box wrapped in black velvet. He walked straight to me.

"Miss Elena Barron?"

"Yes."

"Priority One."

He handed it to me and left.

I held the box. It felt warm. Midnight pricked her ears up.

Power, she whispered.

I pulled the ribbon. Inside sat a single gemstone.

A Pigeon Blood Ruby, the size of a quail egg, uncut and raw. In wolf culture, giving an uncut red gem symbolizes the donor's heart—blood and raw instinct.

There was a card.

“Red looks better on you than tears. - H”

Hunter.

My breath hitched. He had accepted the alliance.

"Oh, how quaint," a sickly sweet voice drifted over my shoulder.

I snapped the box shut. Eve stood there, wearing a shimmering dress cut too low.

"Who sent you a rock, Elena? A secret admirer? Or did you buy it yourself to feel less lonely?"

"Go away, Eve."

She stepped closer, invading my space. "Damien is with the Elders. He's telling them about your mental instability. About how the injury has made you... unfit."

"He is a liar."

"Is he?" She pulled out her phone. "He loves me, Elena. He worships me. Do you want to see?"

She shoved the screen in my face.

A video. Grainy, but clear audio. Damien, growling.

“You are the only one, Eve. She smells like ink and dust. You smell like life.”

"He calls me his Queen when he's inside me," Eve hissed. "He's not just mine, Elena. They all are. Kenneth, Leo... they all know how to treat a real woman."

My stomach lurched. Disgust. Pure, biological revulsion.

"You are pathetic," I said. "You collect them like toys because you have no wolf of your own."

Her smile vanished.

"I may not have a wolf," she spat. "But I have your life. And tonight, I'm going to take the last thing you have left: your dignity."

She walked toward the DJ booth.

"Wait," I said. "What are you doing?"

Eve signaled the tech guy—one of the adopted brothers.

The music stopped.