Page 7 of Auctioned Wolf Bride

The footsteps sounded lazy, as if their owner was taking their time, unconcerned. I stayed where I was in the center of the cage, folding my arms and waiting.

The scent of leather and dirt filled my nostrils as the footsteps grew louder. I waited, eyes narrowed.

There were two of them, it turned out. The first was the large shifter Viktor from the woods. He stood in front of the celland waited, a faint smirk on his face as he eyed me up and down, his gaze lingering on my breasts. He leered at me.

I forced myself to stay my ground, taking strength from my wolf, who snarled and growled, wanting nothing more than to tear his throat out.

The second man, his long hair as dark as ink, came to a stop in front of me. The scar on his cheek somehow managed to enhance his handsome looks rather than detract from them. He regarded me in silence. Unlike his counterpart, as his eyes swept across my body, there was no lust or lechery. Instead, it was like he was evaluating a piece of meat.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

I didn’t answer.

“I asked you a question,” he said, an edge of warning in his voice.

“You have no idea what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into,” I snarled. “Let me out now, and there’s a chance you’ll get out of this alive.”

A slow, unpleasant smile spread across his face at the words. “Fiery, I see,” he mused. “You know, I haven’t come across many absents, but the ones I’ve met have all been on the meek side. But that fire is easily broken, if necessary. So I’ll ask you again. What is your name?”

“Go the fuck to hell,” I snapped.

The man exhaled in annoyance, then said, “Viktor?”

Viktor nodded and marched forward. He unlocked the cage, and before I could do anything, jerked at the chain, yanking me forward with such force that I stumbled and nearly fell to the filthy cement floor. The instant I was within arm’sreach, he grabbed me by the back of my head and held me in place.

“I asked you a question,” the dark-haired shifter snarled. Something sharp pressed into my stomach. I didn’t need to look down to know it was a knife. “What’s your name? I won’t ask again.”

I had been kidnapped before. But that time, it had been to keep Astrid in line. This… this was different. I had no doubt that the man holding me at knife point wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I didn’t comply.

“Thea,” I spat.

“Thea. Good.” The knife stayed against my gut. “Now, was that so hard? I’m Damien.”

“What do you want with me?” I asked.

“All in good time,” he said. “I have a couple more questions to ask you. And you’re going to answer them honestly. Don’t lie to me, because I’ll know.” The knife pressed deeper into my stomach. “Do you understand?”

I glared at him. His hazel eyes betrayed nothing but the utmost sincerity, without a shred of empathy anywhere to be seen. My stomach churned. I nodded.

“Good.” He smiled, his teeth sharp. “First question. Is it true you’re an absent?”

I shook my head.

“With words, please. I would appreciate a little respect.”

“No,” I said. He couldn’t prove it, not with the collar on.

His eyes darkened. A stinging pain blossomed across my face as he backhanded me, and I saw stars. I would have staggered backward if Viktor wasn’t still gripping my head.

“I told you not to lie to me,” he said. “Next time, it will be the knife. Are you an absent?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Age?”

“Twenty.”

He nodded. “Good. Final question. Are you a virgin?”