The hybrid's curse

RIA’s POV

The first thing I noticed was the scent of smoke. It clung to the velvet curtains, seeped into the stone walls, and burned my throat as I struggled to breathe. The room was heavy with it, mingled with the musk of wolves. Hundreds of eyes burned into me from the shadows, and all of them were waiting for one thing.

That would be me.

I stood barefoot on a small stage, wrists bound in silver cuffs that dug into my skin, my gown nothing more than a pale scrap that offered no warmth. The chains were unnecessary, my wolf had been drugged into silence hours ago, my blood dulled with herbs that left my body weak.

Yet still they chained me, because control was all these men knew.

The auctioneer’s voice rose over the murmurs of the crowd. “Lot number eight. Ria Traem. Nineteen years of age. Lyra bloodline.”

Whispers surged. Lyra. Even here, among the ruthless, that name carried weight.

I kept my chin high, though my stomach twisted. I would not cry. I would not show them fear. That was what they wanted and they would receive none of that. 

“Untouched,” the auctioneer added with a wolfish grin. “Trained in etiquette. A rare find. We will begin the bidding at fifty.”

The first voice cut the silence. “Sixty.”

Then another. “Eighty.”

My pulse raced. I tried not to look at them—the wolves in fine coats, the alphas with gold rings and predatory smiles. They weren’t buying me. They were buying power, blood, and ownership.

“One hundred.”

The number came from the shadows at the back of the hall, low and rough, but it silenced the room like a blade.

My gaze snapped toward the voice, and my heart stalled. I could hear the sound of my heart pounding as I stared at the shadow from where the voice came. 

The man who stepped forward looked carved from violence itself. His black shirt clung to a chest marked with tattoos that twisted up his throat, curling around the sharp line of his jaw.

His dark hair was cropped close, his stubble shadowing lips set in a hard line. His eyes, silver edged with storm, pierced my body as if they could strip her bare.

“Alpha Kael Draem,” someone whispered, their voice almost reverent.

I swallowed hard. I had heard the name before, always spoken in warning. Alpha of the Blackfang pack. Cold. Ruthless. A wolf who crushed anyone foolish enough to stand in his way.

The auctioneer stammered but quickly recovered. “One hundred from Alpha Kael. Do I hear one hundred and ten?”

Murmurs rose again, hesitant. No one wanted to challenge a Draem. Yet just as the silence seemed final, another voice rang out.

“One twenty.”

The crowd gasped.

Another man stepped forward, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair falling loose around his face. His eyes gleamed amber, sharp and cunning, and when he smiled, it was all wolf. His tattoos were different from Kael’s, gold ink twining down his arm like fire, but the resemblance in the set of his jaw was undeniable.

“Alpha Darius,” someone hissed. “Kael’s stepbrother.”

My chest tightened.

Kael’s gaze flicked to Darius, sharp as steel. For the first time, his mask cracked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“One fifty,” Kael said flatly.

“One seventy,” Darius countered, his smirk widening.

The air thickened with tension. Wolves whispered, scenting the storm that was about to break.

My pulse pounded in her ears. Two alphas. Both ruthless. Both dangerous. And both bidding for me like I was nothing more than a jewel to be tossed into their collections.

“Two hundred,” Kael growled, his voice cold enough to freeze the air.

“Two fifty,” Darius shot back without hesitation.

The auctioneer’s hands trembled. No one else dared speak. The hall had become a battlefield, and I was the weapon.

Kael took a step forward, his silver gaze burning. “Three hundred.”

The crowd erupted in gasps. No one, not even the wealthiest alphas, had ever bid that high. The auctioneer’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Three hundred… going once…”

“Three fifty.”

My knees weakened. Darius’s voice was smooth, confident, but his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. He wasn’t just trying to win. He wanted to take something from Kael.

Kael’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy, broken only by my uneven breaths. Then Kael spoke, his voice low, lethal.

“Five hundred.”

The hall went still. The number was obscene, enough to buy entire estates. No one would go higher. Not even Darius.

The auctioneer’s hands shook as he slammed the gavel down. “Sold. To Alpha Kael Draem.”

The chains around my wrists were unclasped.

My skin burned as they lifted, but my wolf stirred faintly beneath the haze, restless, furious.

Kael moved forward, and the crowd parted for him like prey before a predator. He stopped in front of me, his scent overwhelming—smoke, pine, iron. Without a word, he reached out, his tattooed fingers curling firmly around my wrist.

“You belong to me now,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut.

My chest heaved, anger sparking in my veins despite my fear. “I belong to no one.”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise lit his eyes. Then his mouth curved into something that wasn’t a smile but close enough to unsettle me.

“You’ll learn,” he murmured. But I knew I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t just bow to anyone, not with the bloodline in me. I laugh coldly in my head, my body feeling weak with each push but I maintained my confidence out.

Behind him, Darius’s laugh echoed through the hall, low and mocking. “Careful, brother. She looks like fire. Burn too close, and you’ll choke on the smoke.”

Kael didn’t look back. His grip tightened on my wrist as he led me from the stage, past wolves who lowered their gazes. I tried to pull free, but his hold was iron, unyielding.

“You think you’re strong,” I hissed under my breath.

“I know I am,” he replied.

“And cold.”

“Cold keeps me alive.” His eyes slid to mine, silver flames burning. “And if you’re smart, it will keep you alive too.”

My throat tightened, but I forced my chin high. I would not bow. Not to him. Not to anyone.

As the doors shut behind them, the hall erupted with whispers. The crowd spoke of Kael’s madness, Darius’s defiance, the impossible price. But I heard none of it.

All I heard was the pounding of my own heart.

All I felt was the weight of Kael’s hand on my skin.

And all I knew was that my fate had just been sealed.

But deep down, beneath the fear and fury, my wolf stirred. Not in defeat. In warning.

Because Kael Draem was not the only danger in my future. He was more, one I couldn’t decipher, or place my hands on. 

All I knew was, this was just the beginning. 

And the war for my body, my loyalty, and my heart had only just begun. It wouldn’t just involve the ones vying for not, it will affect the innocent, and the greedy.