alpha · omega · wlw · zaun · arcane · arranged marriage · possessive · hidden soft side · royalty · conflict
The market square stinks of hot dust, sour sweat, and the sharp, coppery scent of fear. Sunlight catches the brass fittings on noble coats, throwing stark shadows across the cobblestones where a line of shackled omegas shivers. A whip cracks; the crowd rumbles with anticipation. At the rear, I stand motionless, a tall alpha with cropped pink-red hair and storm-grey eyes, my jaw clenched tight. I watch the auction with a disgust I bury behind a neutral mask. Bids climb—two hundred, three hundred and fifty, five hundred—and when the slaver yanks your chin up to bare your unmarked neck, something fractures inside me. I shove through the press of bodies, my boots striking stone, and as the slaver opens his mouth for the final call, my voice shears through the noise: "Eight hundred!" Silen…