Aria's POV.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall as my mind wandered to my past-the memories I'd tried so hard to bury.

It's been a week since I was brought to this place, a week since my father cut off all ties with me for a hundred thousand dollars.

A chill ran down my spine as my mind raced back to the auction: how I was stripped bare, exposed to the cruel eyes of strangers; the voice of the auctioneer still echoed in my ears as he sold me off like a commodity. I felt the wave of nausea and swallowed hard, trying to rid my mind of the memories.

Yet they refused to go, haunting me like some kind of nightmare.

My father's pack had been something out of my nightmares: an eternal nightmare of pain and terror. Now I was here, in this gilded prison, while I waited for Damon to decide my fate.

My mind was flung back to Damon, with the way that he had treated me, equal parts curiosity and possession.

And I shuddered at the memory, cold skin crawling with a sense of foreboding down my back. What does he want with me? Why did he purchase me? Just to be the plaything which would satisfy the lust, act as a breeder?

I got up and went to the window, staring out at the gardens below. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the lush greenery. But even the beauty of nature couldn't stop my racing thoughts.

I felt like I was living in a never-ending nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. I was trapped in a world where I had no control, with my fate at the discretion of others.

I wrapped my arms around myself as a wave of despair washed over me. I was so tired of being scared, so tired of being hurt. I just wanted to be free.

But it was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not yet, at least. For now, I was at Damon's mercy, some stranger who had bought me like a piece of property.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to still the jumble of my mind. I needed to be strong, to survive. That's all I could do for the time being.

A deep voice came from behind me, pulling me out of my reverie. "Aria." I quickly recognized the voice and bowed my head, my heart racing with anticipation. My palms grew moist, and my breath caught in my throat.

"Sit on the bed, Aria," Damon instructed softly, his tone commanding. Silent, I swung my legs sluggishly towards the bed, my gaze down. As my legs suddenly buckled out from under me, I simply felt like an oncoming collapse.

I sat, and Damon asked, "How are you?"

"Fine," I whispered. My voice cracked and my throat started to develop a lump in it. Damon's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't say anything else about it.

We had just sat in silence, and then I felt this old scar on my arm, which started itching. I tried to ignore it, but the itching got intense. So, I started scratching it slowly, hoping Damon would not notice. Hurtful, innumerable memories kept replaying in my mind.

Then Damon's voice sliced through the quiet. "Strip, Aria." And my heart just missed a beat; fear just washed over me, and my mind just went blank in terror. He was going to have sex with me, the thought of being a sex object for someone barely known made my stomach turn over.

I started to undress, very slowly, my eyes tightly shut. I was terrified of some sort of scolding for disobedience, yet I wasn't able to look at Damon. My hands shook; my breathing came in short ragged gasps.

But then there was a light touch on my shoulder. "Open your eyes, Aria," Damon whispered. "Look at me." I hesitated a second, opening my eyes slowly.

His eyes were so kind, so full of concern unlike any I’ve seen my whole life. "What happened to you, Aria?" he asked softly. "How did you get these scars?"

A wave of emotion washed over me, and I started to shake. My eyes welled up with tears, and I felt like I was going to break down. I tried to speak, but my voice was barely audible.

"M-my father." I stammered as my voice broke. "He.he didn't want me." A big sob welled up in my throat, which I tried to stifle but failed miserably. "He said that since I did not have a wolf at birth, then that means I had a defect." I continued as tears streamed down my face. "He hurt me over and over and said I wasn't fit to be his daughter.

As I spoke, it was like the expression on Damon's face changed from compassion to outrage. Shrugging his coat off, he laid it over my shoulders, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I am so sorry, Aria," he said, emotion thickening his voice. "No one deserves what you have been through."

I jumped back, retreated further away from Damon as he laid his coat over my shoulders. I felt scared, and yet, utterly touched by his manner. His eyes slitted narrowly at me then, and he said nothing in response, also not closing any distance between us yet.

"Be easy, Aria, " he breathed. "Your mother? She didn't do anything either to help" The question, of course wasn't rhetorical.

"May I go to the bathroom?" I asked politely, trying to buy some more time. That scar I had was itching again and bleeding a little; it needed cleaning.

Damon nodded, "Of course, go ahead." He inclined his head towards the bathroom door.

I stood up and went into the bathroom, gently locking the door behind me. I leaned against the sink, trying to catch my breath. But then, as I stared at myself in the mirror, suddenly I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. The room started to spin and I felt myself go weak, as if I were going to pass out. I tried reaching for the sink, but it was too late.

"Damon!" I screamed before everything went black.