Chapter 3

Eliana POV

My voice was unsteady, my eyes fixed on the whip which was coiled and secured to her belt.

A slow smile spread across her lips and she bent down to take my face in her hands, looking deeply into my eyes.

"The auction, of course. And you, my pretty little one, will fetch quite a nice price."

Her cackling laugh echoed in the empty room, a sadistic gleam in her eyes.

Fuck. I was in for it now.

Swallowing the panic attack which threatened to return, I sniffed the bread and smelled something slightly off about it, throwing it into the corner of the room instead of eating it. It was clearly doped with something, and I didn't want to take a chance with it. I could deal with my rumbling stomach for now.

About ten minutes later, the rogue with the face tattoo came in and snapped an iron collar around my neck, pulling me to stand by the short chain he held tightly in his fist.

"You're just like the little human girls tonight. Wolfsbane has made sure of that, no wolf is going to ruin this party" he grinned at me. "Ah, baby. If I had the money to pay Mrs. G, you'd be mine," he growled, running a finger over my breast. "Unfortunately I don't…"

I suppressed a shudder and stared blankly at the door. With a loud sigh, the rogue tugged on my collar and led me through dimly lit passages, past closed doors which moans and screams filtered under. We descended stairs into a cigar smoke filled basement and the rogue secured the chain of my collar onto an iron ring embedded in the stone wall.

There were three other girls next to me, all seemingly drugged as they struggled to stay on their feet, their eyes glazed over. The room was filled with men in various states of formal wear, all smoking cigars and sipping drinks while they socialised with each other - as if attending a slave auction was just something they did every Saturday night. What the fuck was wrong with these people?

Men came up to us, inspecting the "merchandise" and making comments, all of which were insulting, sexual and downright gross.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one," a man with thinning blonde hair murmured as he trailed his fingertips over the bodice of the lingerie I had been put in. "I think I could have some fun with you."

Another man joined him, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. "I might outbid her for this one. She looks like she knows how to please a man in bed."

The first man laughed, pinching the exposed skin on my stomach. "I'll let you buy her from me when I'm done with her."

"Awww, that's not fair. You know that you don't leave much when you're finished with a girl. I don't want a pile of bleeding body parts. At least let me have her first before you put all sorts of tools onto her orifices."

I felt vomit rise in my throat, making breathing hard to do. Darn the wolfsbane! I needed Ayla right now, she would know how to make it better.

The two men moved on to another girl, leaving me alone for a moment before the next set of men came to prod me.

"This one is too skinny. She wouldn't know how to please a man if she was given a step by step instruction manual," the one laughed, dismissing me - for which I was grateful.

"Don't say that," the other man retorted, grabbing me by my chin and putting pressure on my jaw until I was forced to open my mouth. "I'm sure her mouth would work just as well. Might need to knock out some of those teeth to keep her from biting your dick, but I'm sure you'll manage to do that without much help."

They were shoved aside by an elderly man who seemed to be respected by some of the others, his friends and bodyguards keeping some of the other creeps away.

"This one looks like someone I know…" a short man with a huge nose said to his companion as they stared at me. "I just can't place it."

They stood back, examining me as if I were a piece in a museum.

"Ah, I know who! She's a female version of Butch! It's the eyes - those purple eyes would stand out anywhere," the balding companion announced loudly- loud enough to draw a small crowd around me.

"The Butcher never had kids though," someone commented.

"Not that anyone ever knew of, but he did screw half of the coast before he disappeared so anything is possible."

"I'd love to get my hands on him, that bastard has a lot to answer for."

"Yeah, he ruined my business!"

"He stabbed my brother."

The conversation swirled around me and I felt my headache start to return, drowning out their words. The tip of a walking stick prodded my stomach, drawing me out from inside my mind.

"I asked you a question, girl." The ancient man prodded me with his stick again before he repeated himself. "Are you related to Butcher?"

I shook my head. What else could I do? I didn’t know my father, with the ‘sperm donor’ - as Elijah called him - having bailed before we were born. But I was pretty sure my mom would have never been with anyone nicknamed ‘The Butcher’.

"I don't believe her. She knows we'd use her to draw her father out. Look! She doesn't deny it."

"No! I'm not…" I shouted, only to be cut off by the ringing of a large gong.

"Gentlemen, please take your seat. The auction will begin."

One by one, the girls beside me were led up onto a small platform while the woman who had visited me earlier stood behind a podium, gavel in hand. With each sale, the men got more and more rowdy and I swallowed hard when the woman's gavel pounded against the podium and she shouted "sold".

"Time to shine," the rogue grinned and patted me on the arse as he dragged me onto the podium. I tried to fight him, pulling away as hard as I could. I didn't win though, his first slamming into my cheekbone instead. Blinding pain caused tears to well up in my eyes but I refused to cry. Instead, I stared out in the crowd, a silent dare in my eyes.

"Let's start the bid at ten thousand. Anyone willing to pay ten thousand for the daughter of The Butcher?"

I cringed at that name. They were obviously using the fictional rumour to their advantage. My eyes darted around the room as one bid came, and then another, and another until people seemed to be shouting from all directions. I caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd, the bruises on his face now a greeny-yellow, his split lip almost completely healed.

Wilson grinned and lifted his glass to me as he delighted in my humiliation. It was him - it couldn't have been anyone else. No one else hated me so much as to organise my attack and auction.

"Five hundred thousand!" The old man with the cane bid, scratching his crotch with his free hand.

Oh no, please no!

The basement door flung open, crashing against the wall and everyone turned their heads to the large man who stepped in, looking as if he hadn't a care in the world. The same guy from the restaurant! My mate!

"One million. I'll pay one million for her," his voice was clear but he didn't shout - he didn't need to. The room had been plunged into silence when he'd entered.

"Sold!"