Page 67 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

Memories of the previous morning flooded back—the joy of discovering her pregnancy, the dreams of a future with Articus and their child. It all seemed so distant now, like a beautiful mirage that had vanished in the harsh light of reality.

What have I done?

"I don't understand," Wren said, her voice hoarse. "Why go through all this trouble? Why not just return me to Articus if that's your plan?"

The vampire who seemed to be their leader in the shadows—she'd mentally dubbed him Bloodred due to how red his lips were and how they contrasted against his sparkling white fangs—grinned. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, your Alpha needs to learn a lesson about keeping his property secure."

Anger flared in Wren's chest. "I'm not property. Articus isn't like that."

The witch snorted. "All Alphas are like that, Honey. Especially the ones from the bright side. They just hide it better."

Wren shook her head vehemently. "No, you're wrong. Articus is different. He's kind, he's..."

The announcer grinned. “Bet you thought running away was a good idea, huh? Maybe you’re starting to realize you hadit better with the big bad Alpha. At least he fed you and kept you safe.”

Wren met his gaze, refusing to look away even though every instinct screamed at her to cower. The announcer seemed to be the face of the operation, though. He had taken to the stage at the auction, but here, he followed the vampire’s commands.

“I’d rather be dead than belong to someone like you,” she snapped. Her voice wavered, but the fire in her eyes didn’t falter. She wasn’t going to let them break her, no matter how hopeless things seemed.

Memories of Articus' gentleness, his respect for her, flooded her mind. The way he'd looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world—the tenderness in his touch when they made love.

He didn’t act like he owned me.

"And he's not my master," Wren insisted, as much to herself as to her captors. "We're partners. Equals."

Bloodred laughed. "Oh, you really believe that, don't you? How adorable." He reached out, grabbing her chin roughly. "Listen, little rogue. In our world, there are no equals. There are masters, and there are slaves. You got lucky, landing yourself an Alpha from the bright side. Most rogues would kill for that kind of security."

Wren jerked her head away from his grasp. "You don't know anything about our relationship."

"Maybe not," the witch conceded. "But we know how valuable you are. An Alpha's mate carrying his cub? You're worth your weight in gold, Sweetheart."

How did they know about the baby?

Wren's blood ran cold. She hadn't told anyone, hadn't even had the chance to tell Articus. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed by her captors.

"Oh yes, we know all about your little secret," Bloodred said, his eyes glinting with greed. "It's amazing what a vampire's heightened senses can pick up. Your scent's changed, darling. You're positively glowing with maternal hormones."

Fear clawed at Wren's throat. These people knew about her baby, and they saw it as nothing more than a way to increase her value.

"Please," she said, hating the tremor in her voice. "Just let me go. I'll go back to Articus; I won't cause any trouble."

The announcer chuckled. "Now, where's the profit in that? No, you'll stay right here until your Alpha comes to claim you. And he'd better come with plenty of cash if he wants you and his cub back in one piece."

As they continued to discuss her fate as if she were a prized livestock, Wren's mind drifted back to Articus. Would he come for her? After she'd run away, would he even want her back? The memory of his conversation with Fannar haunted her, but now, in the face of real danger, she found herself longing for Articus' protection.

I was so stupid. I should have trusted him, should have talked to him.

She remembered the way Articus had held her at night, his strong arms a safe haven from the world. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring against her ear. The way his eyes softened when he looked at her, full of a tenderness she'd never seen directed at anyone else.

He never treated me like a slave.

Tears pricked at Wren's eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not here, not now.

He'll come. I know he will.

The slavers’ voices grew louder as they made plans to contact Articus, to offer him a deal for her safe return. Wren’s heart lurched at the mention of his name, a mixture of dread and hope swirling in her chest.

They were banking on him caring enough to pay up, and though she hated the thought of being used as bait, part of her prayed they were right.

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