Chapter 4：Becoming the Alpha’s Toy?

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 auction, but the short werewolf grabs my arm and leads me away from the rest of them. 

“We’re taking you to someone special,” he snarls to me.

“No, please!” I beg, struggling in his grasp, but he holds tight. “I haven’t done anything, it’s all Veronica, you don’t need to–”

“No choice,” he says with a grin that shows all his teeth. “We took the money. We have to do the job.”

All I can do is accept my fate numbly as he leads me to a cell not unlike the dungeon I’ve been residing in. When I see the whip, my heart sinks. 

The stocky werewolf grabs the whip from the wall and snaps it a few times experimentally. Every time I hear the sound, I want to scream, but I have to stay strong.

For the sake of my father, at least, if not myself. 

When the stocky werewolf finally raises the whip towards me, smiling like a madman, I look him dead in the eyes. 

I’m well used to the feeling of lashes against my skin by now, but even still, I cry out with every sharp strike. Soon enough, there’s blood splattering the walls. When the short werewolf is finally done with me, I collapse to the ground heavy-limbed, shuddering as silent tears slip out past my eyelids.

“Why?” I ask quietly, voice hoarse from crying.

“Don’t worry,” he says, kneeling down next to me and wiping a tear away with the calloused pad of his thumb. I jolt at the touch. He grins sadistically. “We’ll heal your wounds before the auction. We’ll make sure to sell you for a good price.”

My heart feels like he’s shattering. Once I’m able to walk more or less on my own, the short werewolf leads me to the cell block with the rest of the Omegas.

“In,” he says harshly, shoving me into a cell with one other Omega girl. 

The Omega looks me up and down carefully as I enter. She’s pretty, I realize, in a soft-spoken, subtle way.

“What could you have possibly done to make him so angry?” She asks. “And how stupid are you?”

I struggle to answer, but I’m too weak to manage the words. 

“I’m Elsbeth, by the way. Huh,” she says suddenly, looking at me more closely. “You’re done for.”

“Wh… why?” I ask, voice weak and barely audible.

Elsbeth smiles sadly. “You don’t have a wolf, do you?”

I shake my head ever so slightly, and even that small motion causes pain to flare up all over my body. The wolfsbane has severed my connection to my wolf entirely by now. 

“An Omega without a wolf is worthless,” she explains sadly. “Usually, the auction wouldn’t even take you. But you’re very pretty, so maybe that’s why they made an exception. See, this auction specializes in providing playthings and breeding wolves for powerful Alphas. Without a wolf, though…” Elsbeth shrugs, looking at me with pity. “Well, you’ll only be a plaything. Which is just about the worst thing you can be.”

My heart sinks in despair.

“Do you know who Alpha S is?” Elsbeth asks, leaning against the wall of the cell. 

I start to shake my head, then remember Veronica’s words just before she sent me off. ‘Don’t worry, Alpha S will like you,’ she’d said. 

“Who is he?” I ask, dreading the answer. But I need to know, for the sake of my own survival. 

“He’s a sick, twisted Alpha,” Elsbeth replies, voice heavy with hatred. She nearly spits out his name as it passes her lips. “Absolutely disgusting. He likes to buy pretty, broken she-wolves like you and play with them until they die.”

She looks me up and down one last time, and I can tell that she’s predicted my fate already.

“You are definitely his type.”