Page 1 of Dark Auctioned Mate

Chapter 1 - Rael

The numbers hadn’t moved in four months. Rael had checked them again that morning. The same spreadsheets, the same shell company trails that dissolved into offshore accounts the moment you got close enough, the same money trails that led to nowhere.

Sighing loudly, he closed his laptop and looked out the window of his rented apartment in the human world. It was a small city, exactly what he wanted, with an unremarkable skyline. It was big enough to walk around without drawing too much attention to himself and small enough that the warehouse on the south end of Starville could sit dormant for six months and nobody would file a report about the lights suddenly coming back on.

The lights had come back on three days ago. Rael had also seen the tire tracks, still fresh in the mud around the loading bay, the new padlock on the old door, and the faint smell of bleach.

Thanks to one of his contacts, Rael found out that they were planning something, and by the looks of it, it was happening soon. Which meant he did not have enough time left, and if he wanted to get in the right headspace, only one thing would help. He pulled on his jacket and went to find a bar.

The Weston pack-his pack-had been chasing this operation for nearly a year; what had started as damage control had become something considerably more personal along the way.

It was a trafficking organization of mainly shifters, who took advantage of their capabilities over unsuspecting humans to transport women in cities like cargo—kidnapped, detained and sold to the highest bidder in underground events, leaving no paper trail and no witnesses willing to talk.

The women disappeared, the buyers scattered, and every time Rael followed the money, it curved back around to point at his own pack’s accounts.

Someone was framing them and feeding fabricated evidence to allied packs, with the clear intention of isolating his pack.

His older brother, Silas—pack Alpha had gone into one of these auctions two years ago on a surveillance mission and came home with his fated mate instead of intelligence. Rael couldn’t fault the decision. He’d seen what Elle, his brother’s mate and luna of the pack, had endured. She was exiled from their pack years ago by their father because she couldn’t shift. Elle had to leave the pack and her family, including her brother, August, to live in the human world. Despite what life had thrown at her, she built a new life from scratch in the human world, only to end up on an auction stage in a city that didn’t know her name. Anyone watching would have done the same thing. And Elle turned out to be of major help in locating other human women who were also kidnapped by the same network, using her magic-seeing visions. Elle, the one his father and the pack casted out, ended up being a powerful seer and the first Omega the Weston pack had seen in centuries. She ended up saving the pack’s reputation. Silas, especially, became a better man because of her. That could definitely not be said of Javi, his younger brother, who took time before warming up to Elle.

However, after a year of peace and quiet, the network had reared its ugly head again, and the pack’s reputation was once again in danger.

Rael quietly stepped into the bar and snagged a stool at the far end of the counter, then he ordered a whiskey and allowed the loud chattering in the bar to drown his thoughts.

He was on his second drink when she walked in.

Dark, long, curly hair that cascaded all the way down her back. She wore a pair of wide-leg, light-wash jeans that were tight over her hips and a red top with a sweetheart neckline that showed a little bit of skin—like a tease. She looked at him briefly, obviously catching him staring at her like a fucking loser.

But Rael couldn’t care less. She looked ethereal. Her gray eyes slowly scanned the room while she pursed her lips, which were coated in the most beautiful shade of red, and God—her body. What he would do to have that body on him, preferably in different angles.

Blood rushed down to his groin, his cock growing faster and harder beneath his jeans. He cleared his throat and downed the rest of his drink, anxious to leave the bar before his cock took over his brain. He was not a prude in any way. He liked sex like any other man. He liked fucking, especially when it involved a beautiful woman like the one sitting on a stool a few steps away from him. But he was always in control. In fact, Rael was what humans called a control freak. He liked things a certain way, he had sex in a controlled way, and he always kept a level head in all situations. He never lost control, and the woman beside him, smelling like fucking peaches, had the tendency to ruin that.

"You gonna keep staring or actually buy me a drink?” Her eyes slid over in his direction, staring into his soul. “It’s kinda hard not to notice someone beside me staring a hole into the side of my head. So, you gonna buy me a drink or is this some sort of staring competition?”

Rael felt his lips curve into a small smirk. Fuck rational thinking. He nodded to the barman, “Tequila. Keep them coming.”

“Wow, plan on getting me drunk?” Her voice turned a bit teasing. “What a gentleman.”

Shaking his head, amused, he hopped off his stool and dragged it over, right next to her. Big mistake. For one, her breasts were way bigger than he thought, and her scent? All fucking peaches. It was all he could smell in the stale old bar, and he loved it.

“You’re not from here.”

A perfectly shaped brow arched. “That obvious?”

Rael shrugged wordlessly.

“Well, I’m just passing through. You?”

“Same.”

She leaned back slightly on the stool and stretched out her hand, “I’m Alanis.”

“Rael,” he took her hand, resisting the urge to caress it.

“So, Rael, do you make it a habit to stare at women in a bar?”

“Only at beautiful ones.”

Alani’s cheeks flushed a deep red just as their first round of tequilas arrived. She immediately grabbed a glass and drank it in one go. “Ackkkk. That is strong.”