Chapter 79: How Dare You Touch My Woman
Rodrigo leaned forward in his chair, his brows drawing together as his gaze followed the auctioneer’s outstretched hand toward the heavy back doors at the far end of the hall. The murmur of conversation that had filled the room moments earlier died away almost instantly, swallowed by a sudden, expectant silence that spread through the crowd like a living thing. Every noble, merchant, rogue, and warlord seated within the underground hall turned their attention toward the stage, their anticipation hanging thick in the air.
A slow smile spread across the auctioneer’s face as he stepped into the center of the stage and raised both hands, basking in the attention.
"My honored guests," he began, his voice rich and theatrical, carrying easily through every corner of the hall. "Tonight, you have witnessed treasures beyond imagination. Rare artifacts, priceless jewels, ancient weapons, and creatures thought lost to time. Yet none of them compare to what I present before you now."
The crowd stirred.
The auctioneer’s smile widened.
"Some treasures are discovered by chance. Others are forged through years of patience, care, and meticulous preparation. What you are about to witness is not merely a woman, nor simply a prize to be owned. No..." He let the word linger as anticipation coiled tighter around the room. "This is a masterpiece cultivated for a single purpose. A beauty untouched by time, unmatched by any court or kingdom."
His eyes swept across the audience.
"Kings have started wars for less. Empires have fallen for women of lesser worth."
The hall had grown so silent that Rodrigo could hear the faint crackle of the torches lining the walls.
"Tonight, I present to you our most coveted possession. The one whispered about only in private circles. The jewel reserved for those with wealth beyond measure."
The auctioneer spread his arms dramatically toward the back doors.
"Behold..."
His grin sharpened.
"...The Peerless One."
The doors began to open.
For reasons Rodrigo could not explain, his pulse lurched violently inside his chest.
Something was wrong.
The certainty struck him with such force that he was already on his feet before he realized he had moved. Seven and Caleb turned toward him in surprise, but Rodrigo did not spare them a glance. His entire focus remained fixed on the widening gap between the doors as an unfamiliar dread settled heavily in his stomach.
The first sound he heard was the slow movement of wheels rolling across polished wood.
Then the glass box came into view.
A large crystal box emerged from the darkness, pushed carefully onto the stage by two elegantly dressed women. A rich purple shawl draped over it completely, concealing whatever—or whoever—waited inside.
Rodrigo’s hands tightened around the railing before him as he leaned forward, his knuckles whitening under the strain.
The women guided the box to the center of the stage before stepping back and bowing.
The auctioneer turned toward it with a flourish.
"And here she is."
With synchronized movements, the women reached for the shawl.
"And now, I present to you... The Peerless One."
The cloth slipped away.
The world stopped.
Inside the glass enclosure, a woman sat curled against the corner, her hands secured by delicate chains fixed to the floor of the box. Her blonde hair hung damply around her face, hiding most of her features, while a shimmering white dress cascaded around her like liquid silver beneath the stage lights.
She looked small.
Too small.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, and even from where he stood, Rodrigo could see the subtle tremble running through her body.
His grip tightened.
Something inside him twisted violently.
Her hair obscured her face, and he knew no woman with blonde hair. Then why did terror claw so fiercely at his chest? Why did every instinct inside him scream that something was horribly wrong?
He tried to look away.
He couldn’t.
As though sensing his gaze, the woman slowly lifted her head.
Everything around him disappeared.
The voices.
The lights.
The crowd.
All of it faded into nothing.
All Rodrigo saw were her eyes.
Blue.
Those impossible blue eyes he’d memorized so thoroughly that they were engraved in his mind. Eyes he could picture perfectly even with his own closed.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
He had kissed those lips that very morning.
He still remembered their softness against his.
No.
He was imagining things. There was no way...
He shut his eyes for a single second and opened them again.
She was still there.
Chained inside a glass box.
Displayed like an object.
Waiting to be sold.
His woman.
Rodrigo’s face darkened as something savage unfurled inside him. The sight of her trembling, of fear shining openly in those familiar eyes, ignited a rage so fierce it stole the air from his lungs.
"Is that..." Seven’s voice faltered beside him. "Is that not the Luna?"
Rodrigo said nothing, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
Beneath his grip, the iron railing groaned and bent inward.
The auctioneer paced around the enclosure slowly, his grin widening as the crowd stared in open fascination.
"Is she not the most breathtaking creature you have ever laid eyes upon?" he asked, his laughter echoing through the hall. "Beauty untouched by imperfection. Grace refined to its purest form. A treasure of extraordinary value."
His hand rested against the glass.
"Tell me, my honored guests... what price would you place on perfection?"
The hall erupted into excited murmurs.
The auctioneer’s smile grew cruel.
"She will make an excellent plaything, don’t you think?"
Rodrigo turned slowly toward the stage, and his eyes landed on the auctioneer.
The fury burning inside him overshadowed everything else.
Seven quickly grabbed his arm, as though he knew what Rodrigo was about to do.
"Alpha," he called, his voice shaking. "Wait. Signal the men. We should get the earthstone first. We’ve waited so long for this. Once she’s taken away, they’ll find an opportunity to save her, but the earthstone—"
Before he could finish speaking, Rodrigo moved.
One moment he stood beside them.
The next, he had vaulted over the railing.
Gasps echoed throughout the hall as he landed heavily on the floor below.
On the stage, Nina lifted her head.
Her breathing hitched.
Her eyes searched desperately through the crowd.
And then they landed on him.
For a fraction of a second, Rodrigo forgot where he was. The deafening noise of the auction hall faded beneath the pounding of blood in his ears as his gaze locked onto Nina’s. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and the fear that had gripped her expression moments earlier loosened just enough for something else to break through.
Relief.
The sight of it shattered whatever restraint he had left.
The crowd’s shocked murmurs swelled around him as he took a step toward the stage.
Then another.
The auctioneer recovered first.
His smile vanished.
"Stop him!" he shouted.
The command snapped through the hall like a whip.
Men stationed along the walls surged forward, shoving past the startled bidders. Chairs scraped against the floor as nobles and merchants scrambled out of the way, curses and startled cries echoing through the underground chamber.
Rodrigo barely heard any of it.
All he saw was Nina.
Her wrists.
The chains.
The fear still lingering in her eyes.
Something primal surged through him.
His pulse thundered.
Strength flooded his limbs with terrifying force. His muscles tightened beneath his skin, his canines lengthened, and sharp claws pushed from his fingertips. A dark grey washed over his irises.
The first guard reached him with a drawn blade.
Rodrigo caught the man’s wrist before the weapon could fall.
Bone cracked beneath his grip.
The guard cried out, but the sound died in his throat as Rodrigo drove his fist into the man’s chest hard enough to send him crashing across a row of seats.
Another lunged from the side.
Rodrigo sidestepped, seized him by the throat, and threw him into two more rushing toward him.
Chaos erupted.
People scattered in every direction.
The auctioneer stumbled backward, his face draining of color as he watched the guards fail to slow Rodrigo.
"Close the exits!" he yelled. "Don’t let him reach the stage!"
Too late.
Rodrigo vaulted over a fallen chair and landed at the foot of the platform.
More guards poured toward him.
His vision narrowed.
He no longer saw faces.
Only obstacles.
Someone swung a blade.
Rodrigo caught the man’s arm and twisted.
Another attacked from behind.
A low, feral growl tore from his chest as he drove an elbow backward, sending the attacker sprawling.
Somewhere above him, Seven’s voice rang out.
"Move!"
A second later, several dark figures dropped from the upper balconies.
His men.
The Lycans crashed into the auction guards, turning the hall into a battlefield.
Rodrigo didn’t stop moving.
He mounted the steps two at a time.
The auctioneer backed away from the glass enclosure, his hands trembling.
"Who are you?" he shouted. "What do you want?"
Rodrigo stopped.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to the man.
Dark grey eyes met terrified ones.
The auctioneer froze.
For the first time that night, genuine fear crossed his face.
Rodrigo took one step forward.
Then another.
The man stumbled backward until his legs hit the edge of the stage.
"You touched her."
His voice was low.
Deadly.
"How dare you?"
The auctioneer opened his mouth to speak, but Rodrigo was already moving.
His clawed hand drove forward.
The man’s eyes widened.
A strangled sound escaped him.
Then Rodrigo tore him aside as though he weighed nothing.
The auctioneer crumpled to the stage.
Dead before he hit the floor.
Silence rippled outward through the hall.
Rodrigo didn’t spare the body a second glance.
He turned toward the glass enclosure.
And they fell on her.
