Aria's POV.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find two burly guards looming over me with their faces twisted into mean grins. One of them kicked my side, causing me to wince in pain and jump into a sitting position.

"Time to rise and shine, useless!" he sneered, flipping a flimsy piece of cloth in my direction. "You've got a big day ahead of you."

I caught the fabric, hating the surge of humiliation that flooded through me. It was a thin, transparent gown, one that displayed me for sale to prospective buyers.

"Put it on," the other growled then, his eyes roving over me in disgust. "You're not going to make a good impression looking like some kind of dirty little stray."

I swallowed hard, forcing the now-familiar shame and worthless feeling down into my stomach. I'd been born without a wolf and lost my mother at birth, and to my father, Alpha Logan, that made me a curse.

I reluctantly wore the gown. The guards jeered at me, cruelly, with dirty words that cut deep. But over time, I'd learned to numb myself to their jibes. I'd heard them for long enough.

I closed my eyes and let the memories wash over me.

I remembered years of bullying and belittling, of constant reminders that I was worthless without a wolf.

But worst of all were the memories of my father's cruelty: he would lock me in the cellar for days, not giving me even water or food; he would make me watch when he punished other pack members and tell me that's what happened to those who were weak.

I remembered the day my father took my rights away as his daughter. I must have been about 10 years old. We were in his office, and he had called me in to discuss my "shortcomings."

"A true alpha's daughter would have shifted by now," he sneered, eyes cold and hard. "But you. you're just a defect. A disappointment."

"W-what did I do?" I stuttered, tears blurring my vision.

He slammed his fist on the desk, making me jump. "You'll no longer be accorded the privileges of an alpha's daughter. You'll eat with the servants, sleep with the servants, work with the servants."

I felt a sting in my eyes, but I refused to let my tears fall. I know that would only give him satisfaction.

"That's not all," he continued, the malice just dripping from his voice. "You'll also receive training in the ways of service: how to be a proper servant, how to take orders, how to please people better."

I felt a wave of shame run over me then, yet I stood tall, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

It seemed the jeering of the guards was incessant, with every second that passed, and a spark of my defiance began to ignite.

I opened my eyes to their malicious stare, matching theirs.

"Well, for one good thing," I whispered, "I will not be at Father's whims anymore when I find a new master. I feel bad for you though, who will you jeer at now to make you feel better about your sad, lowly lives?”

The guards stared at me coldly, clearly irritated, but I was lucky; they didn't hit me, probably because they didn’t want the goods to be bruised.

“That’s if you ever get a buyer.” A guard hissed and yanked my arm.

Out onto the stage I went, where a cold, metallic price tag was thrown around my neck, bearing "200" in shiny figures under the bright light.

I stood in front of the crowd, their faces twisted into snarls making me wish the ground would just open up and swallow me.

And with a slick of his hair, the auctioneer's voice boomed out across the room, touting my various merits now as mate and servant both. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the pièce de résistance! A beautiful young woman, perfect for any alpha looking to expand his pack."

So the bidding went, and no one was interested, to my horror. The auctioneer tried enticing them along, "Come now, gentlemen! She's a lovely girl, and a steal at this price."

A voice called from the back of the room, "I'll give you 100 for her."

The face of the auctioneer brightened, "Ah,100! A generous offer, sir. But I think we can do better than that. Do I hear 150?"

Another voice yelled out, "125."

More voices were calling out the prices, each trying to outbid the others, but I just couldn't get the shame from my head that I was being sold like a piece of property and that no one seemed to think I was worth very much.

Just as my tears were welling up, the auctioneer ordered me to strip to my underwear. I felt the burning shame, hesitated, and the guards moved forward with hands outstretched to yank my gown off.

My hands instinctively moved to my chest as I took a step back.

"Hey, hey, no need to be shy!" one of the bidders called, ogling me. "We want to see what we're buying."

I closed my eyes as the guards ripped the gown off my body and the piercing gaze of the crowd landed on me. The murmurs of disgust and disdain about my body were suffocating.

"300!" somebody called.

The auctioneer smiled. "Ah, 300! A serious bid, sir, but I think we can do better than that. Do I hear 350?"

The prices went up and up with every round of bidding. Yet the feeling of my shame and humiliation did not leave me.

Just then, a deep, commanding, authoritative voice cut through the chaos: "Hundred thousand dollars."

Pensive silence,save for the collective gasp of the crowd, befell the room. I turned to face the speaker-my eyes scanned the sea of faces till they fell upon one figure standing at the back of the room.

Imposing, tall, and utterly commanding, he seemed to stare into my very soul but his face was hidden by the shadows of the room. The gaze shook me, running a shiver down my spine as he took another step forward; his presence dominated the whole room it seemed.

"Sold! To the gentleman at the back." He squealed.

The instant the word 'sold' escaped the auctioneer's lips, Alpha Logan, my father, emerged from the crowd of bidders. His eyes were slitted, his jaw clenched in anger.

"Wait," he growled.