Love Under the blood moon

"Get up!"

Liana jolted awake to the harsh voice echoing off cold stone walls. The ground beneath her was damp, her muscles stiff from lying on the unforgiving surface. A metallic clink echoed as she moved her hands-chains.

She blinked rapidly, her amber eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through a barred window high above. Panic clawed at her chest as she scanned the room. Where am I?

"Up!" The voice came again, accompanied by a sharp tug at the chain attached to her wrist. A tall, burly figure stood in the doorway, his face obscured by shadows.

Liana struggled to her feet, her legs trembling. She tried to shift, to call forth her wolf, but an eerie emptiness greeted her. Her breath hitched. No. This couldn't be happening. She closed her eyes, concentrating harder, but the connection was severed. Her wolf was gone.

"What did you do to me?" she snarled, baring her teeth even in her weakened state.

The figure only chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "You'll find out soon enough. Move."

She stumbled forward as he yanked her chain, her mind racing. The last thing she remembered was patrolling the forest near her clan's territory. A sharp pain, a flash of light-then darkness. Now, she was here, stripped of her wolf and her freedom.

The hallway beyond her cell was lined with others, all silent and foreboding. She caught glimpses of others like her-captives, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. A heavy scent of fear lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.

As they moved, she began piecing things together. The rumors had been true. The hunters weren't just targeting werewolves anymore-they were selling them.

Her stomach twisted.

The corridor opened into a vast, dimly lit chamber, buzzing with activity. Rows of cages lined the walls, each containing someone-werewolves, vampires, witches. Creatures from all walks of the supernatural world.

Liana's handler dragged her onto a raised platform. The sudden brightness of the overhead lights blinded her momentarily. As her vision adjusted, she saw them-the audience. Humans, vampires, and even a few werewolves, their faces filled with greed and malice.

"A fine specimen," the announcer called out, his voice smooth and practiced. "A pureblood werewolf, strong and fiery. A perfect addition to any collection."

Liana's fists clenched. A collection? She wasn't some object to be owned.

The bidding began, each number like a dagger to her pride. She stood tall, refusing to let her fear show. But her resolve wavered when the announcer added, "And to ensure obedience, our dear lot has been dosed with the finest suppressants."

Suppressants. That's why she couldn't feel her wolf.

Her gaze swept over the crowd, searching for a weakness, a distraction-anything that could help her escape. Her eyes landed on a man sitting in the shadows of a private booth. His presence was commanding, even from a distance.

"Sold!" the announcer declared, breaking her focus.

Her heart sank as her chain was handed off to another man, a broad-shouldered figure with a predatory grin. He tugged her toward him, his gaze raking over her like she was prey.

"Let me go!" she snarled, struggling against his hold.

"Oh, we'll get to know each other very well," he sneered, dragging her down another hallway.

The walls closed in around her, the air growing heavier with each step. Her instincts screamed at her to fight, but her body felt weak and sluggish.

He shoved her into a small room, the door slamming shut behind her. She stumbled but caught herself, her mind racing.

This wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

The door creaked open again, and she tensed, ready to fight with whatever strength she had left. But the man who entered wasn't her buyer.

He was tall, with dark hair and piercing silver eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light. His presence was magnetic, drawing her gaze despite her fear.

"Leave," he ordered, his voice calm but laced with authority.

Her buyer hesitated, clearly uneasy. "But I paid-"

"Leave," the man repeated, this time with a low growl that sent shivers down Liana's spine.

The buyer muttered something under his breath but left, slamming the door behind him.

The stranger turned to her, his gaze scrutinizing. "What's your name?"

She glared at him, her defiance sparking. "Go to hell."

He smirked, unfazed. "Fiery. Good."

"Who are you?" she demanded, taking a cautious step back.

"My name is Damien Vaughn," he said, his voice like silk. "And as of now, you belong to me."

Her blood ran cold.

"I don't belong to anyone," she hissed.

His smirk widened, revealing the faintest hint of fangs. "We'll see about that."

Before she could retort, he stepped closer, his silver eyes locking onto hers. A strange sensation washed over her-a pull, deep and primal. She wanted to resist, to lash out, but her body betrayed her, frozen under his gaze.

"You're not like the others," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound strong.

His expression softened, but only slightly. "Nothing yet. But I'm curious about you."

"I'm not some experiment," she spat.

"No," he agreed, "but you're mine now. And I take care of what's mine."

Before she could respond, he turned and left, the door locking behind him.

Liana sank to the floor, her heart pounding. She didn't trust him, but something about him felt different. Dangerous, yes, but not like the others.

She clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. Whoever he was, whatever he wanted, she wouldn't let him break her.

Not without a fight.

As Liana sat in the dark room, a faint hum filled the air. The suppressant's effect began to wear off, and for a brief moment, she felt her wolf stir-but it wasn't her wolf at all. It was something darker, something unfamiliar.