"He didn't just buy her. He claimed her—with blood and instinct."
—Kael Draven
----
"One million dollars."
The words echoed through the grand ballroom like a gunshot.
For a moment, everything stopped. The chatter. The clinking glasses. Even the breath in Raine's lungs.
She stood frozen on the stage, wrapped in a silk black dress, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.
One million dollars.
For her.
The man at the back of the room didn't blink. He stood tall, impossibly tall, his tailored black suit sculpted to his broad frame like a second skin. His aura was silent, predatory—more shadow than man. And his eyes… cold, silver, unblinking.
Icy.
Possessive.
"T-The bidding was only at ten thousand," the host stammered, voice cracking with disbelief.
"I said one million," the man repeated. Calm. Firm. Deadly.
A ripple of gasps shot through the crowd. Some laughed nervously, thinking it must be a joke. A publicity stunt. But no one could ignore the tension that filled the air—thick, electric, dangerous.
The charity auction was supposed to be lighthearted. A flirtatious event where people bid for dinner dates with socialites.
Nothing serious. Nothing binding.
But Raine could feel it in her bones—this was something else entirely.
She looked at him again.
He wasn't bidding for a night.
He was taking something.
Taking her.
Her instincts screamed to run, but her legs wouldn't move. Her body stood still, betraying her, even as her mind spiraled.
Why her?
Who was this man?
The host hesitated for a painful moment.
Then, with a shaky breath, he gave in.
"Sold," he croaked, almost whispering. "To Mr. Kael Draven."
Gasps turned to murmurs. The spotlight dimmed. People turned their heads, whispering his name like a warning.
Kael Draven.
The billionaire with a shadowy empire. Untouchable. Mysterious. Dangerous.
And now, her buyer.
Raine didn't remember walking down the steps of the stage. Only that her feet moved toward him like they were no longer her own. Her chest ached. Her hands trembled.
He turned, not sparing her a word, not even a glance.
But she followed.
Not because she wanted to. Not because she agreed.
But because in that moment—deep down, she knew.
She was no longer her own.
She belonged to him.
And somehow... some terrifying, ancient part of her didn't resist.