In the stifling auction room, Chloe clutched the family crest ring tightly in her hand.
She had prepared herself to confront the arrogant rich men, ready to pay any price to secure the life of her future protector.
But the auctioneer made an announcement that shocked the entire audience.
He slammed his wooden cane on the floor, drawing everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, this last slave is a special exception. Our master has a new rule: Whoever wants to possess him must make him willingly submit. As long as he kneels and follows his new master, that person will not have to pay a single penny."
A murmur of discussion arose like a swarm of bees.
"Since when has the owner of this underground auction house been so generous?"
"Is that slave a bargain? No, this is a trap."
In reality, he was a cunning man. He had no intention of selling Alaric, the monster of the slave arena. He was using him for amusement, gambling his life against the nobility that no one in the world could tame a mad wolf.
Immediately, the greedy and arrogant began to step onto the stage.
A burly hunter stepped forward, a long, blood-stained whip in his hand. He lashed it against the bars, a deafening crack echoing with sparks of purple magic.
He roared, ordering Alaric to prostrate himself. In response, only a hoarse growl emanated from the boy's throat, and a missed pounce sent the hunter recoiling in humiliation.
Next came a mid-level mage. He used mind-manipulation magic, attempting to break Alaric's will with terrifying illusions. Yet, the boy's fiery red eyes remained unwavering.
He looked at the old man as if he were an insect, the pride of his pure Alpha bloodline, though trampled in the mud, remained undiminished. He frantically lunged at the bars, disregarding the protective magic that scorched his chest, causing the mage to fall off the stage in terror.
No one succeeded. Alaric's ferocity was beyond human control.
Just as the crowd began to lose hope, a small, dark figure emerged from the shadows. Chloe, clad in a cloak that completely covered her, was followed closely by her younger sister, Clara. She walked slowly and gracefully, creating a strange contrast to the chaotic atmosphere around her.
As Chloe approached the magical cage, the host, terrified, tried to stop her. "My Lord, you mustn't! That's too dangerous! This monster will tear you apart!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he felt a heavy pressure on his shoulders. Clara stood beside her sister, her usually gentle eyes now blazing with the blue of advanced magic.
She glared, her voice cold. "Shut up and stand aside."
The host trembled, recoiling in silence.
Chloe showed no fear. She pressed herself against the iron bars, which hissed with crackling magic.
Before hundreds of astonished eyes, she reached her slender hand through the gaps in the magically protected cage. Her pale skin was only centimeters from Alaric's claws.
In that instant, Chloe began to channel her volatile magic within her body. Instead of attacking, she let the magic flow gently through her fingertips, forming threads of pale blue light that enveloped the bleeding wounds on the young man's body. It was a magic that soothed pain and healed injuries.
Chloe parted her lips slightly, her clear yet captivating voice echoing, "Follow me."
The voice carried a magical allure, but to Alaric, it wasn't what caught his attention.
What truly touched his shattered soul was the familiar warmth emanating from this girl. It was exactly like the image of the woman who often appeared in his dreams, the only one who comforted him when he was tormented by his wolf form in the darkest shadows.
Alaric froze. The madness in his eyes suddenly vanished, replaced by utter shock.
He rushed towards Chloe, but the cold iron bars once again blocked his way. Beneath the tightly closed hood, he saw a pair of deep blue eyes looking at him with a strange understanding.
At that moment, it seemed as if the entire space around them froze. The noise of the auction, the stench of the prison, everything vanished. Time for Alaric stopped. All his reason for living, all his pain and hatred, were focused on a single point: the girl before him.
It was as if, in that moment, he had found the reason for his birth and existence in this world. He was no longer a slave, no longer a discarded beast. He had found his sanctuary.
It was because of her.
Alaric's body automatically knelt down. His eyes stared intently at Chloe, filled with absolute adoration. His hands, once used for killing, now trembled as he reached out, carefully grasping her small hand through the bars.
He pressed his forehead against her palm, his hoarse voice filled with submission, "I will follow you... My light."
The entire hall fell silent. The slave market owner, standing on the upper floor, dropped his precious wine glass, shattering it into pieces.
Chloe stood there, feeling Alaric's breath on her skin. She gave a faint, triumphant smile, thinking that her enchanting magic had worked sooner than expected.
Unbeknownst to her, this wasn't the result of magic. This was the moment a werewolf truly found their mate. Alaric connected with her, life and soul, at that very moment.
When the two pieces found each other, an invisible thread bound them together, inseparable. However, deep within their subconscious, something seemed to be missing.
Their bond, though strong, held an inexplicable void. A profound emptiness, as if waiting for a third piece, someone else to fill and complete the circle of destiny.
Chloe withdrew her hand, turning to look at the stunned host, "He volunteered. According to the rules, he belongs to me."
Despite his intense anger at losing his most valuable possession and a huge gamble, The Market Master had to grit his teeth and let Chloe take Alaric away, having publicly announced the rules in front of so many powerful figures. He ordered the cage opened, his eyes gleaming with malice as he watched the three figures leave the hall.
However, a cunning man like him would never let his prey slip away so easily.
As Chloe, Clara, and Alaric left the underground market and began walking down the deserted alleys leading to the Adair mansion, hurried footsteps and the growling of hunting dogs echoed from behind.
The slave market owner's henchmen had received orders to kill the two masked men and capture Alaric alive.
Chloe sensed the approaching murderous aura. She turned around, looking at Alaric, who was still staggering from his wounds. Her eyes narrowed.
"Clara, prepare defensive magic."
"Yes, sister," Clara immediately replied to her sister.