Page 16 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

But her body seemed frozen, her limbs refusing to obey the frantic commands of her mind. Fear gripped her as the figures closed in, their faces obscured by shadows. Wren’s thoughts spiraled as she realized the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t just a random attack; they were after her.

Wren’s survival instincts finally kicked in, and she spun on her heel, ready to bolt back toward the bar. But it was too late. A rough hand clamped down on her arm, yanking her back with a force that knocked the breath out of her. She screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the night, unheard and unanswered.

No, no, this can’t be happening.

The world around her blurred as they forced her toward the van. Wren fought with every ounce of strength she had, kicking and thrashing, but it was like trying to escape from a steel trap. The more she struggled, the tighter their hold became.

Her defiance was short-lived. A sharp pain exploded at the base of her skull as something hard struck her, and the darkness closed in.

The world tilted sideways as Wren crumpled to the ground. Her vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. She tried to call out, to scream, but her voice failed her, and her consciousness slipped away.

The world faded to black.

***

Wren’s head throbbed as she slowly regained consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the cold, hard surface beneath her. Hard concrete pressed against her cheek, and the chill seeped into her bones.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she winced at the dim light filtering through the small window of the cell she found herself in.

Where am I?

Panic surged through her once more as she remembered what had happened. It wasn’t a nightmare; this was real.

No, no, no.

She pushed herself up, her body protesting with every movement. The rattle of chains accompanied her movements, and she realized with growing horror that she was shackled, hands and feet bound to each other.

As her vision cleared, the reality of her situation came into sharp focus. The room was small, with rough stone walls that reeked of dampness and decay. A faint, acrid smell lingered in the air, making her stomach churn.

Where the hell am I?

Her gaze darted around the cell, searching for any sign of escape, but there was nothing, just cold stone and iron bars. She was trapped.

Panic surged through her, and Wren began thrashing against her restraints. "Help!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and desperate. "Somebody help me!"

"Shut up," a tired voice called from a neighboring cell on her left in the dark. "There's nothing you can do. Once you're here, it's over."

Wren's head snapped toward the voice, anger flaring hot and bright. "What the fuck are you talking about? Shut up! I'm getting out of here! There's no way I'm dying here!"

A low groan from the corner of the cell on the right, where the dim light flickered, caught her attention, and she turned to see another figure huddled in the shadows.

It was a woman, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow with fear. Wren’s throat tightened as their gazes met.The woman’s eyes held a silent plea, one that mirrored Wren’s despair.

Before Wren could say anything, the door to the cell creaked open, and the sound of approaching footsteps silenced her protests. Wren looked up, her breath catching in her throat as a figure appeared before her cell.

He was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that seemed out of place in the grimy surroundings. An ornate mask covered the upper half of his face, similar to those worn at masquerade balls.

He had pale skin that seemed to almost glow in the dim light, and a predatory smile curled his lips. But it was his scent that made Wren's blood run cold.

Vampire.

The sickly-sweet smell of death clung to him, unmistakable to her heightened senses. He looked down at her with disdain, his lips curled in a sneer.

The vampire’s gaze swept over the cell, lingering on Wren for a moment before he spoke. “Welcome, my dear. You’ve had quite a night, haven’t you?” His voice was smooth, almost soothing, but Wren could hear the underlying menace in his tone.

"You should stop acting up," he said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. "You already know it's too late. Why be so... annoying?"

Wren’s heart raced as she took in the sight of him. The stories she’d heard about vampires, their cruelty, and their thirst for power flooded her mind, and fear gripped her once more.

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