Marcel Conway is fresh on the market for a new year of the Mating Season: a sex auction masquerading as a Peace Trade to keep the packs from going to war. But she's gritting her teeth and digging her heels in, determined to come home to her small bu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☽☾☽☾☽☾
It was like an out of body experience.
I felt like I was sitting within the gallery of my mind, spectating through shaky vision, and shitty audio that filtered through cement walls.
I could see Sister Edith, her weathered face beaming with pride as she offered her hands for me to take. And I could barely, just barely, make out the many voices ringing out boisterously, announcing their claims.
Her lips were moving, and I could see her saying Marcel, you've come so far, listen to them. You are a beautiful prize to be won, as she gathered my hands in hers. At her touch, I was brought back to reality.
"Claimed!"
"Claimed!"
"Claimed!"
"Claimed!"
Just as one voice would announce the claim and I would snap my head in the direction of the speaker, another would pop up and I would find my neck bending painfully to find the next person who had spoken. I felt like I was in a demented game of whack-a-mole.
But I felt this presence stirring... If I thought the walk up here was rough, this sucked away my soul. It felt abysmal, a brewing simmering rage that I had not noticed before, emanating from my orbit at the table near the foot of the stage.
There was a loud screech of a chair protesting against the marble floor as Alpha Donovan Blackmon rose to his feet, his eyes murderous, jaw clenched, and face taut. All eyes were ripped from me momentarily, trained on the towering presence of the Night Blood Alpha who was shaking violently as he spoke:
"Claimed."
My eyes widened and I could hear gasps lighting up the room. I shouldn't be so surprised, but, goddess, he actually did claim me...
"My, this has to be a record...Let's see...that's 12 claimers," Sister Edith counted. "One Alpha, two Betas, and a multitude of other suitors. Marcel, how do you wish to proceed, darling?"
Blackmon's eyes had me transfixed, dazed as he ensnared me in that flaming amber gaze...it dared me to pick any other option than him.
It was only when I tore my eyes off of him did I seek out my family in the gallery. Almost immediately, there I found my father, his salt and pepper hair was slicked and styled back, those gray eyes watching me, the pain so evident.
In the Ash Oak pack of males stood my brother, honey blonde hair pushed out of his face and donning a crisp black suit, his face hard as stone as he tried to keep himself composed.
My family...already so broken and spread apart. Mom, I can't leave without you here to take care of them. My fingers found the pendant on my neck, toying with it as I withdrew a long breath, closing my eyes as I steeled my decision. I won't let them tear me away from them...not after I promised you, I'd take care of them.
