"Good boy." Lilith pats his cheek like he's a misbehaving puppy. "Now, get in line. The show's about to begin."
Bid?
My God. My knees threaten to buckle as the reality of my situation sinks in.
Morgan drags me onto the stage, my legs trembling so violently I'm shocked I'm still upright. The click of Lilith's heels behind me sounds like a countdown to execution, each step echoing through the suddenly hushed room. She grabs the microphone, her blood-red lips curved in a smile.
"Welcome, distinguished guests." Her voice slithers through the room. "Thank you all for attending tonight's... special event." The crowd raises their glasses in unison, the dark liquid inside definitely not wine. The sight of all those crystal flutes filled with blood makes my stomach lurch.
"I know you're all eager to begin. And I promise, you won't be disappointed. We have quite the prize tonight—a genuine angel." Her gaze slides to me, sharp as a blade. "One whose blood grants the greatest gift of all—the ability to walk in daylight."
The crowd erupts in excited whispers, their hungry eyes fixed on me like I'm the last meal they'll ever have. Jesus fucking Christ. That bastard Azrael actually did it—he broadcast my secret to every bloodsucker with a pulse. Or, well, without one. The thought makes me want to vomit—I've become the vampire equivalent of a winning Powerball ticket.
"Bullshit!" A voice cuts through the murmurs like a knife. Some vampire in the back, clearly skeptical of Lilith's claims, stands up. "No blood exists with that kind of power. This is a scam!"
For a brief, beautiful moment, hope flutters in my chest as the crowd starts muttering in agreement. Maybe they'll call this whole sick auction off. Maybe—
"Oh, trust me, darling." Lilith says with smug satisfaction as she runs her tongue over her fangs. "I've already sampled the merchandise myself. She's the real deal."
My mouth goes dry as the crowd's skepticism evaporates instantly. They're nodding now, completely convinced by Lilith's firsthand testimony. Because of coursethey are—why would the powerful, ancient vampire lie about something like this?
"But before we proceed with the bidding," Lilith's voice takes on a dangerous edge, "there are rules. And let me be perfectly clear—anyone who breaks these rules will answer to me personally."
The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees as the gathered vampires lower their eyes, their earlier bloodlust temporarily dampened by fear. Even these powerful immortals know better than to cross Lilith. The way they shrink from her gaze tells me everything I need to know about her age and power—and none of it's good news for me.
"Rule number one. The winner gets one night with the angel. No extensions, no negotiations. She returns to me immediately after." My breath hitches, terror clawing at my chest.
No. No. Fuck NO.
"Rule number two. She is not to be killed. You will be monitored at all times—and yes, that includes during any...intimateactivities. Consider it mandatory audience participation."
Rage explodes through me, hot and bright enough to momentarily override my fear. "Like hell you will, you psychotic bitch!" I scream, my voice raw with fury and terror. "No one is going to fucking touch me!"
Lilith's mouth twists into something cruel and predatory. "Morgan," she breathes, the word barely audible.
In an instant, my scream dissolves into nothingness, silenced by magic. Morgan's dark power slithers around me like arctic chains, binding me in an invisible prison. I'm frozen, reduced to nothing but a spectator in my own violation. Hot tears of fury and terror streak down my cheeks as I'm forced to watch this horror show play out.
The utter helplessness is suffocating. I'm trapped inside my own body, every muscle locked in place by Morgan's supernatural grip. My voice—my last weapon—has been stolen away, leaving me mute and powerless. My rage has nowhere to go, burning uselessly beneath my skin while these monsters toy with me.
Lilith continues as if I'm nothing more than a minor interruption, examining her blood-red nails with casual indifference. "Rule number three. Payment must be made in full before you claim your prize. Are we all clear?"
The crowd murmurs their agreement like well-trained pets, hungry eyes fixed on me.
"Excellent!" Lilith chirps. "Now, who would like a little sample of our angel before the bidding begins?"
The room erupts in a frenzy of raised hands and eager voices, every vampire desperate for a taste of my blood, for the promise of sunlight it carries. I've never felt more like a piece of meat being dangled before starving wolves.
God, Rhyland, where are you?
"Ah, Silas." Lilith's voice drips with cruel anticipation. "Please," she gestures toward me like I'm an appetizer being served. "Give her a taste. I promise you won't be disappointed."
Panic explodes through me as I struggle against Morgan's invisible bonds. But it's useless—I'm trapped, forced to stand here like a statue while this monster approaches. My heart slams against my ribs so hard it hurts.
Silas stalks toward me, his huge frame blocking out the chandelier light. He's built like a concrete wall, all rippling muscle and brutal strength, and the hungry look in his eyes makes me want to vomit. Even behind his ornate mask, I can see the savage anticipation written across his features.
He towers over me, lowering his face to my neck, and inhales deeply. His hot breath against my skin makes my flesh crawl. "Mmm... you do smell delicious." His voice is rough with desire. "I bet you taste even better."
Without warning, his monstrous hands seize my waist, yanking me against his chest with bruising force. I feel his arousal pressing against my stomach, and I feel utterly sick. Every cell in my body screams in revulsion. This is wrong, so fucking wrong. I want to fight, to claw his eyes out, to scream until my lungs burst—but I can't move a single muscle.
