Page 2 of Howl About That

But before she could answer, the auctioneer's voice cut through her thoughts. "Lot thirty-seven. Prime commercial real estate in White Plains."

One more. One more lot and then everything would be decided.

Her lioness pressed against her skin, ready to fight for what belonged to them. Ready to prove that eleven years of sacrifice and struggle hadn't been for nothing. Ready to show everyone who'd ever doubted her that she was exactly where she belonged and she was exactly the right person to be Alpha of the Mintz pride.

Five minutes later, the auctioneer's voice cut through the ballroom's refined murmur. "Lot thirty-eight. Five hundred acres of pristine Hudson Valley woodland."

Poppy's heart hammered against her ribs as the screen displayed aerial photographs of her ancestral pride lands—rolling hills carpeted in ancient oaks, the silver thread of the creek that had run through Mintz territory for three centuries, the stone boundaries her great-grandfather had laid with hisown hands. Her lioness surged forward, recognizing home even through digital images.

This is it. Everything depends on the next ten minutes.

She raised her paddle with steady fingers that belied the chaos in her. "One hundred thousand."

The bid felt pathetically small in a room where people casually spent millions on Manhattan penthouses, but rural land rarely attracted serious money. Most of these wealthy shifters wanted trophy properties, not wilderness that required patience and vision to appreciate.

Please let them ignore this. Please let them think it's worthless.

"One hundred thousand from the lady in blue," the auctioneer acknowledged. "Do I hear?—"

"Three hundred thousand."

The voice came from somewhere behind her—crisp, confident, and utterly unexpected. Poppy's head snapped around to locate the source and found a petite woman with snow-white hair and designer earrings, her paddle raised with the casual air of someone ordering coffee.

Who is she? Why does she want my land?

Panic clawed at Poppy's throat, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "Five hundred thousand."

The woman turned slightly, and for a moment their eyes met across the ballroom. The woman's bright blue eyes shifted to something that looked almost golden, and her smile carried an odd mixture of sympathy and mischief. As if she knew exactly what this auction meant to Poppy.

"Seven hundred thousand," the petite woman said without hesitation.

What is she doing?

Poppy's lioness snarled, demanding she march across the room and physically remove this threat to their territory.

But auction rules bound her to civilized behavior, to polite warfare conducted through raised paddles and escalating numbers. Even if her chest tightened with each bid, even if the other woman's serene confidence suggested she had resources Poppy could only dream of.

The room had gone quieter now, sensing drama. Conversations paused as heads turned to watch the unexpected battle over what most considered unremarkable acreage.

"One million dollars."

The words left Poppy's lips with finality that echoed through the ballroom. Every liquid asset she possessed, every dollar she'd scraped together from accounts and emergency reserves. Her last stand to keep her territory intact and her Alpha title secured with money she couldn't afford to lose.

Silence stretched between heartbeats. The white-haired woman studied her with those unsettling eyes, then lowered her paddle with a small nod that felt almost like approval.

I did it. I actually?—

"Going once," the auctioneer announced.

Relief flooded through Poppy's veins like warm honey. She'd won. Broke herself winning, but won nonetheless. The pride lands would return to Mintz control, Sander's challenges would crumble, and she'd proven once again that sacrifice and determination could overcome impossible odds.

"Going twice..."

Neve's hand found hers under the table, squeezing fingers that had gone numb with tension. Then a voice cut through the ballroom's anticipation—deep, measured, and carrying the kind of authority that made rooms go silent without effort.

"Ten million dollars."

The number hit Poppy like a physical blow. Her paddle slipped from nerveless fingers as she twisted in her chair, searching for the source of that devastating bid. The roomhad gone absolutely still, as if everyone recognized they were witnessing something unprecedented.