Page 38 of Betrayed Auctioned Mate

Ado doesn’t hesitate. He gives a small nod, his jaw tight, and steps forward, holding out his hand.

People in the crowd murmur. Wondering whether I’ll be held down and forced to bleed before them. I swallow the lump in my throat and do the same, holding my arm out palm-up. My fingers tremble. I can’t feel my hand as I offer it to the man with the dagger.

He takes Ado’s hand first, drawing the blade across his palm. Blood wells up instantly. Ado doesn’t react. His eyes are locked on mine. I see the storm raging beneath his calm exterior.

Then it’s my turn.

The blade slices across my palm, slow and deep. I gasp, the sting of it jolting me back into my body. Blood trickles down my hand, warm and sticky.

The auctioneer takes our hands and presses them together, blood mixing, skin against skin. Ado’s grip is firm, steady, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

The auctioneer begins to chant in a language I don’t recognize. The room seems to grow colder, darker, as the ritual takes hold.

I feel something shift, something deep inside me, as the bond begins to form; it’s as if a thread has been woven between us, invisible but unbreakable, pulling us closer together. Ado’s hand tightens around mine, and I can see the same fear in his eyes that I feel in my own. This isn’t just an act. This is real. The bond is real.

And it will never go away.

The chant ends, and the room erupts into applause. The deal is done. We’re bound. I’ve been sold, and now I belong to Ado, at least in the eyes of these monsters.

The auctioneer smiles, satisfied, and waves us off the stage.

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery. “May your union be long and prosperous.”

I can’t process what’s happening to me anymore as Ado pulls me off the stage, his arm around my waist, guiding me away from the prying eyes of the audience. The floodlights disappear behind the curtain as he tugs me from the hooting and clapping of the auction-goers.

The world spins. My vision lurches, and I realize I cannot stand up straight; I sway dangerously.

Ado leans down and sweeps me off my feet. A bridal lift. I almost want to laugh.

As he carries me through the darkened halls, further away from the prying eyes of the crowd, I press my face against his shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I should feel safe in his arms, but all I can think about is the bond we’ve just forged, and what it means for both of us.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips pressed to the top of my head. “It’s okay, I have you. I have you. I have you.”

Chapter 20 - Ado

“Glad you had the card for the team account,”Byron says in my mind, breaking the silence. And then,“Ado, shit, man. I’m so sorry.”

I ignore him. I can’t tolerate this right now.

Not with Keira weeping softly in my arms, face pressed to my shoulder as if she can’t stand to look me in the eye.

Each of her sobs twists the knife in my heart that landed there the moment I saw her up on that stage. I shoulder out of the back door of Border Ridge House, sparing an absentminded nod to the security guard who verifies that my payment has gone through—mypayment.The thought of it makes me feel like I’m going to throw up in my mouth.

On the perfectly manicured back lawn, hard white lights perched on the roof of the building stretch my shadow far ahead of us. I hold Keira tighter and keep moving through the trees, my feet carrying us toward where I know the hidden vans are parked deep in the woods, ready for her.

Every step feels like an entire lifetime’s effort. The distant echo of the auction hall still lingers in my ears—the applause, the jeers, the horrific chants that fueled the nightmare we just walked out of. The men are getting drunker and drunker. There will be more women. There will be no other slaves freed tonight.

I blink hard, and there’s only the crunch of leaves under my boots, the heavy scent of pine and damp earth in the air, and Keira’s silent tears soaking into my shirt.

She’s so light in my arms, but it feels like I’m carrying the weight of the world. Every breath she takes, every tremble thatruns through her, reminds me of what just happened. What I put her through.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear the low rumble of a vehicle—one of ours, idling to draw my attention. Waiting to take us home.

The pack has been silent in my mind since I carried Keira off stage. Rafael and Percy’s presence linger nearby. I can tell they’re not far off. They’ll stagger their exits. Maybe they’ll have valuable information. The mission seems so stupid now, like we planned for it in another life.

Right now, all that matters is getting Keira to safety.

“Almost there,” I murmur.

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