Eira's POV
"We hit the jackpot. This bitch is a pure-blooded she-wolf."
Lying on the narrow bed in the dimly lit basement, I heard their voices echo from the adjacent room which looked like some kind of laboratory. I'd caught a glimpse of it when they first dragged me in: shelves lined with strange instruments, machines humming low like they were alive.
Jackpot.
Of course, the so-called jackpot bitch they were referring to was me. A no name shewolf, a sex slave, often called by various names like whore, slut or every derogatory word they could use for a woman they used and abused for the past six years.
Bitch was almost kind compared to the rest.
I'd heard those words so often they no longer stung. Instead, I got so used to them that I even forgot my real name. As far as I remember, there used to be one, a sweet one.
"Pure-blood? Are you sure, Paul?" Henry asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Yes," Paul replied, awestruck as though he'd unearthed a mythical creature. "Not just a pureblood, her gene purity rating is the highest I've ever recorded. It's unreal. Look at this result yourself."
"Holy shit!" Henry muttered, clearly stunned. I could almost imagine the dollar signs spinning in his eyes. "Pure-blooded werewolves are nearly extinct. And one like this? She's a treasure. If word gets out, every powerful Alpha in existence will come crawling to us, offering whatever it takes to get her. A pure-blood she-wolf hasn't been seen in decades."
Pure-blood shewolf.
I was equally shocked like these men when I found this truth about myself. Because my grandparents raised me with the lie drilled in my mind: You are a wolfeless hybrid between human and a werewolf. You are meant to be a weak woofless halfbreed.
But it had all been a carefully constructed illusion which broke on the day I came of age, my sixteenth birthday, the day that ruined my life.
I wonder, if the world had known what I truly was back then… would my life have been different?
Not really? And my grandparents knew what would have happened to me.
Even before I reached adulthood, Alphas would have laid their claims on me, as if I were theirs by divine right. They would have drafted contracts, made secret pacts among themselves, agreeing to share me once I came of age. I'd be passed from one to another like a prized possession, a vessel meant to produce the ultimate heir, a pure-blooded Alpha.
They would have drawn lots to decide who would mount me first, who would sire the first child, and who would follow next. One after another. A system as cold and calculated as it was barbaric.
The only difference between that fate and the one I lived would be: Instead of being sold to nameless men by traffickers in grimy, bloodstained rooms for six long years, I would have been locked inside a gilded cage, a breeder's cage, crafted by the wealthiest Alphas. Polished walls, silk sheets, golden chains.
And instead of being called a sex slave, I'd be paraded with a title they thought was nobler: werewolf breeder.
Such is the cursed fate of pure-blooded she-wolves, now little more than legends. Once revered, now rare, hunted, owned.
The downfall began with the cruelty of the werewolf clans themselves. Their pride, their recklessness, their disdain for the very she-wolves who carried the bloodline forward. They discarded, abused, and murdered them until there were none left. By the time they realized what they had done, it was too late. Regret couldn't revive the dead.
The werewolf race teetered on the edge of extinction.
To continue their legacy, to create true Alphas, they needed she-wolves. Not human women. Not half-breeds. Only pure she-wolves could endure the knot of a powerful Alpha and survive childbirth. Anyone else would die, broken and bled out.
And so began the hunt.
"Let's auction her in the evening. I can't wait to get at least a few billions in our hands," Henry sounded overly ecstatic. "I am sending an invitation right away."
"Sure. I will inject her with drugs so she won't make any scene like the previous ones and leave with her masters obediently," I heard Paul say.
—-
That evening, a grand auction was arranged to sell me off in that underground facility.
They had drugged me just enough to keep me awake, but not strong enough to resist or cause a scene. Slumped in a wheelchair in the dimly lit room, I stared at the screen in front of me. It displayed the auction hall full of powerful Alphas seated like kings, each one waiting to get the rarest commodity they hadn't seen in decades.
A pure-blooded she-wolf. Me.
"See how many powerful Alphas desire you, girl?" came a voice beside me.
It was the nurse who was tasked with watch over me like a hawk, and to ensure I didn't try to escape.
Who would tell her I had given up on running away and instead I want to die, but sadly death wouldn't come so easily to the Pure-blood.
The door burst open suddenly and Paul and Henry rushed in. Both looked visibly anxious.
"What the hell are you talking about, Paul?" Henry snapped, pacing. "Do you want to get us all killed by those bloodthirsty Alphas?"
Paul, equally tense, shoved a tablet into Henry's hands. "I did more research on her kind. And it's true."
Henry planted both hands on his hips, exhaling sharply to steady himself before responding. "Look, we know she can only conceive with her fated mate, but those Alphas don't. By the time her new owners figure it out, months will have passed. That's enough time for us to run away somewhere far with our money. How about that?"
Paul sighed, the sound thick with reluctant agreement. "Better than dying in their hands tonight."
I watched them, my pulse beginning to race, as I heard those words that sounded more like a curse.
My fated mate…?
At the mention it, the image of that man's face slammed into my mind like a nightmare returning to life. His cold, hateful eyes as if he can't wait to kill me, still bore into my heart.
Out of so many werewolves in the world, why did he have to be my mate? Why him?
For six long years, I believed all my emotions had died. I had felt nothing. No hope, no fear, no longing. But now, as I remembered him… I realized one remained.
Hate.
I hated him with everything I had left.
Lost in the pit-less abyss of old memories of pain, betrayal, and hatred, I barely registered the voice that echoed from the screen.
"The winner of the draw is the Alpha of Stormhowl Pack—Alpha Kael and his four sworn mate-brothers."
Stormhowl Pack?
The name struck me like lightning.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The air turned to stone in my lungs. I snapped my gaze to the screen, where the faces of winner Alpha's were shown, the ones who had ruined my life.
It felt as if the sky had collapsed over me. My body froze. My heart stuttered painfully in my chest.
No. This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare.
"Congratulations," the nurse chirped beside me, her tone unbearably bright. "You've been sold to the most powerful pack for whole twenty billion. You are truly our treasure to make us wealthy in just one night."
I ignored what she said. All I could hear was the voice roaring in my ears, the single thought screaming through my mind like a siren:
No. No. I can't go with them. I have to run.