Ivy’s POV
I sit naked in the bathtub as the Omega maid scrubs my skin pink, staring straight ahead.
It’s Veronica and Erick’s wedding day–the day they’ve chosen to solidify my final humiliation.
The maid gives me one last scrub, hauls me out of the water, wraps me in a towel, and dabs rose oil onto my skin. Wordlessly, she drags me towards my miserable rotting mattress of a bed, where a lacy bra and skimpy miniskirt have been laid out for me.
I stare at the clothing in shock. “Where’s the rest of it?”
The maid shakes her head sadly.
My stomach plummets. The maid starts to dress me, and I struggle at first, but it’s no use. When the maid is done stuffing me into my clothes–little more than underwear, really–I look into the rusty old mirror before me. As I’m distracted by the plunging scooped neckline of the bra, the maid clamps shackles around my wrists and ankles.
Even though I’ve already lost touch with my inner wolf thanks to the wolfsbane, it’s not enough.
Veronica never misses a chance to humiliate me.
By the time I make it into the banquet hall, Veronica and Erick have already wed.
The moment I walk into the banquet hall, I smell the most wonderful scent. Almost intoxicating–as though it’s drawing me towards something.
But what?
The maid nods once to me, then shuffles off, leaving me standard near the altar.
Veronica’s gaze lands on me, and her lips twist into a wicked smile. She looks beautiful, which I hate, and the wedding dress she’s wearing looks an awful lot like the one I was supposed to wear.
I hate her.
My attention shifts to Erick seated next to her with his arm wrapped around her waist. No matter how much I hate Veronica, Erick is the object of my vengeance. I’ll see him fall by my hand, or I’ll die trying.
I think Veronica can see the loathing in my gaze, because she taps her knife against her wine glass and stands up, drawing everyone’s attention to her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have with us Ivy Bell, the daughter of the late Alpha Bradley Bell of the Obsidian pack!” She calls out.
Jeers and whistles fill the room, a mockery of applause.
“As punishment for her traitorous ways,” Veronica continues, looking at me with a cruel glint in her eyes, “Ivy will be a public maid. Anyone can taste her any time.”
My mouth falls open as the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. A hundred leering eyes slip over me, slimy with their intent. I want to protest, but I know it’s no use. I need to survive first if I want to ever avenge my father. I look up at my once-best friend’s evil face, anger and fear filling my heart.
How much more can she do to me?
Whatever aromatherapy they’ve got at this wedding seems to be helping, though. Every time I catch a hint of that wonderful, intoxicating scent, my tense nerves seem to relax a bit.
I spent the rest of the wedding reception pouring drinks. As I do, though, strange men approach me, whistling and running their hands along my body. I shudder, but don’t dare object. It makes me feel sick, though.
As I pour champagne into a slender flute, a drunk Thunderclaw werewolf walks over to me and wraps his arm around my waist, rough hands wandering over my delicate, exposed skin.
“Hey!” I protest, writhing and struggling to escape. “Don’t touch me!”
“You’re public use, aren’t you?” He murmurs in my ear. The scent of alcohol emanating from him damn almost burns.
He starts to drag me out of the hall. “Let’s go to my room, baby,” he urges.
“Let go of me!” I snap.
He laughs, slamming me roughly against the wall and leaning in to kiss me. My stomach drops, I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to dissociate from whatever’s going to happen to me, when–
“Ah!” The werewolf shrieks.
My eyes snap open just in time to see him get lifted up into the air, neck caught in a chokehold.
“You… you…” the drunk werewolf struggles to say, but he can barely make a sound.
I look up to see a tall, handsome man holding my assailant in a chokehold. The stranger is indescribably stunning–his eyes are hazel, almost gold, and shimmer with unknown depths. His hair is tousled and black. He’s dressed in a lean, elegant black suit that does his abundant musculature just about every possible favor. As he studies the guy in his grasp, his jaw is taut, and I can’t help but admire his gorgeous chiseled features.
He smells just like that wonderful scent in the wedding hall.
Who is he?
I watch, stunned silent, as the stranger tosses the drunk werewolf aside like he’s trash. He hits the floor with a sickening crunch, sliding several feet along the polished marble until he hits the wall hard. He moans silently, writhing on the floor as though his bones have been broken.
“Get lost!” The stranger commands.
My assailant struggles to his feet with great difficulty, glaring resentfully at the stranger before leaving in obvious disgrace.
I watch him go and exhale a sigh of relief. Once he’s gone, my attention returns to the stranger–my rescuer–with curiosity and caution. He’s not from my pack. I’ve never seen him before. And he has a noble aura that no member of the Thunderclaw pack could ever have. His every move exudes authority, making me want to submit.
“Thank you,” I whisper quietly.
The stranger stares at me for a long moment, then leaves without a word.
The moment he leaves, the weight of what happened crashes over me. To avoid punishment, I return to the hall. As I do, I can see the drunk werewolf talking to Veronica, who looks at me with hatred. My heart sinks.
She knows.
Soon, Veronica makes another announcement. “We’ll be selecting some of the maids to send to the Omega Auction,” she says, standing up. Her gaze locks on me. “Including the traitor and ex-Alpha’s daughter, Ivy Bell.”
The hall erupts into murmurs. Shivers arc along my skin. An auction? An Alpha-blooded she-wolf being publicly auctioned at the Omega Auction–it’s a massive humiliation for me as well as my entire pack.
“Don’t worry,” Veronica says, sauntering over to me and leaning in close. “Alpha S will like you.”
Alpha S?
Who is he?
Ivy’s POV“Move!” A tall, thin werewolf barks at us as he shuffles us down the aisle.I shudder. I’m on my way to the Omega Auction with a huge group of other lowly Omegas, and I’ve never been so scared.As we move, the other Omegas glare at me, knowing full well that if not for my actions, Veronica never would’ve sent anyone to the auction. She’s hell-bent on destroying me, and doesn’t seem to care who gets caught in the crossfire. The thin werewolf in charge of escorting us finally stops shuffling us down the camped dirty Omega tunnels and stops in front of a short, stocky werewolf–the auction employee, I assume. With a grin that makes my blood run cold, the thin werewolf points at me. “Our Luna wants you to take good care of her,” he says to the stocky werewolf with a knowing glance, handing him a wad of cash.The short werewolf nods, malice gleaming in his eyes as he takes the cash and looks me up and down.The other Omegas are shuttled into cells to await the start of the aucti
Ivy’s POVOn the day of the auction, they dress me up like a seductive lamb leading to slaughter. True to their word, they healed all my wounds externally, but I can still feel the pain under my skin. I saw myself in a mirror as I was led into the auction hall. I’m dressed in an outfit almost identical to the one they had me wearing at the wedding–a strappy bra and short skirt. My long auburn hair has been styled so it cascades down my face in soft, luxurious waves, and my makeup is heavy, shadowy and sultry. I look, objectively, beautiful. Seductive, alluring, even. But I also look far too revealing than I’m comfortable with. As I walk up onto the stage, all the Alphas in the shadowy audience seating stare at me with lustful eyes that make my skin crawl. Yet, as an Alpha-blooded she-wolf, all I feel is humiliation. My gaze lands on Veronica, arm-in-arm with Erick, seated contentedly in a side box. Scratch that. I feel nothing but humiliation and loathing. “And now,” the auct
Ivy’s POVI wonder if the Lycan Prince can feel how much I’m trembling, because he seems to hug me even tighter. He carries me swiftly down the hallway, towards the hall’s exit. I look up at him nervously, not sure what to do–should I say something to him? Ask him questions. Every so often he glances down at me to check if I’m okay, but there doesn’t seem to be any real affection in his eyes as he does. I don’t know what to make of him.And that scares me more than I’d like to admit. Just as we’re about to leave, I hear a familiar voice echo through the auction hall, sending a shock of fear through my body. Still clutched tightly in Spencer’s arms, I look up ever so slightly to see Veronica rushing over to us. “Prince Spencer!” She calls out, heels clacking on the stage floor. My body tenses up nervously.What else can she do to me?Erick walks behind her. The two of them look up at Spencer, maintaining a polite and respectful distance, barely daring to approach. Their admiration
Ivy’s POVThe first thing I see when Spencer carries me out of the auction house is the incredible array of black luxury cars parked at the building’s entrance. Dozens of tall, burly men, all dressed in black suits, step swiftly out of the vehicles. They bow respectfully to Spencer, who barely seems to register their presence.They must all be Lycans. They have to be. After all, only Lycans could possess such a fierce, imposing presence. I know logically that Spencer, being a prince, must command entire armies of Lycans. But even still, seeing such a massive protective squad here at the auction house catches me off guard. Spencer’s Beta quickly opens the rear door of the second black luxury car in the lineup. “Prince,” he says, lowering his head respectfully Gently, carefully, with unexpected tenderness, Spencer places me in the seat. I feel dirty and impure against the sleek leather, still dressed in the horrible auction clothes I’ve been forced into. Spencer climbs into the seat
Ivy’s POVWhen I realize what Spencer is doing, my eyes snap open in shock. As his soft kisses trail along the length of my neck, making my heart catch and sputter, I glance towards the driver, worried that people may notice. Unexpectedly, the partition between the front and back of the car has already rolled up, giving Spencer and I absolute privacy. I let my eyelids flutter closed again, leaning closer into Spencer. The temperature in the car seems to be rising. My breath starts to quicken and become a bit more ragged as his kisses move unbearably slowly from my neck to my collarbone. The way he moves his lips, nipping and sucking gently, makes my heart pound in a way nothing has before. My one hand bunches the back of Spencer’s suit up in a fist, but I’m too gone to care about any consequences that may pose. I bite my lip hard, trying not to let out a moan.Just as Spencer’s lips are about to reach my chest, already mostly exposed from the auction outfit, I can’t help but gently
Ivy’s POVLuna?Is he referring to me?My heart starts to race. Startled, I wave my hands in denial, gesturing madly. “No, no, I’m not–”“She’s not my Luna,” Spencer says, glancing over at me and speaking casually. I let out a relieved breath and nod. The middle-aged man shoots me a probing look, then quickly averts his gaze and returns his attention to Spencer. “Apologies, Prince Spencer,” he says respectfully, then looks back at me. “And Miss…?”“Ivy.” I volunteer my name. “Ivy Bell.”As I speak, I can feel Spencer staring at me again. The weight of his stare upon me seems to be constant at this point, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Is this what my life will be like? “I’m Captain McAndrews” The man smiles kindly at me. “Please follow me, Miss Bell.”I look back at Spencer, wondering if he’s going to follow, but he seems to be chatting with a few members of his security detail. Silently, I let Captain McAndrews lead me into the palace. The massive double doors swing open w
Ivy's POVWithout wasting even a second, the maids push me into the washroom. “Wait!” I protest, trying to fend them off, but I’m still weak from the auction staff. “Take the jacket off,” the first maid commands.“I–what?” I fiddle with the hems anxiously. “No, you don’t understand, I–”The maids wrangle the jacket off of me. When they pull it away and reveal the clothes underneath, they burst into peals of mocking laughter. “Oh, I get it now!” The second maid exclaims. “You’re no one special. You’re just some whore who seduced Prince Spencer into bringing you back to the castle.”“I’m not a whore!” I protest indignantly. I reach for the jacket, but the maids pull it out of reach. “I’m an Alpha’s daughter.”“If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing,” the first maid says, looking me up and down with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t even have a wolf. There’s no way you could possibly be of Alpha blood.”“I’m not a whore!” I argue again.“Really?” The second maid asks. “Which A
Ivy's POVEarly the next morning, before I even woke up, a crowd of maids rushed into my room.I gasp and sit up straight, but already the maids are tugging me out of bed. “What are you doing?” I ask, trying to pull the blankets tight and shake them off, but it’s no use.“Helping you,” one of the maids replies mockingly, pulling me onto the floor.The flurry of maids guides me through my morning routine, washing me up and dressing me in another fine gown–this one a pale green like lily pads. The bath is a bit better this time, and at least no soap bars are being pressed into my slowly-healing wounds. They’re not behaving like maids should, though–their movements are rough and pain-inducing, causing me to wince with every move they make. I have to bite back screams with every minute, knowing that any sound I make will only provoke more ridicule from the maids. I know they think I’m a whore, but I don’t think I could stand to hear it again. Once I’ve finished washing and getting d