Burn in the Alpha Princess’s Wrath
Chapter <i>57 </i>Auctioned Pride
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<b>25 </b>
+8 Pearls
“Silence!” The Watcher elder at the altar let out a low growl, his powerful aura forcing Slyvana into grudging silence.
He looked toward me, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Governor of Rogue Pack, do you confirm your bid?”
“Of course,” I replied with a light smile–one Belle would surely interpret as pure mockery. “I’ve always respected those who sacrificed to protect the continent. The Ancestor’s Fang from Crimson Moon Pack holds immense power. I believe its value far exceeds four million. Ten million is simply my personal gesture of respect to the ancestors.”
Every word I spoke was polished and watertight.
Belle’s face turned from pale to sickly green. She got it–I wasn’t here to bid. I was here to ruin the show.
If she gave up now, Crimson Moon Pack would be theughingstock of the continent–not only for using their sacred relic as a publicity stunt, but for failing to protect it, losing it to their enemy’s wallet.
She had no choice but to grit her teeth and keep ying.
“Eleven million,” she said through clenched teeth, each word like it was tearing out her soul.
“Fifteen million,” I answered smoothly, still wearing that calm, effortless smile.
“Sixteen million!”
“Twenty million.”
The price soared with each of my casual bids. The entire hall fell into a suffocating silence.
All the wolves in attendance held their breath, watching as the war between us unfolded—a war with no weapons, yet more brutal than any battle.
This wasn’t a simple auction anymore. It was a full–blown gamble, using our Packs‘ wealth and pride as the stakes.
Belle’s POV – Blood Moon Hunt Festival Grounds
My hand trembled slightly.
Twenty million. That bitch–how dare she?
<b>ル </b>
Chapter 57 Auctioned Pride
:
25
+8 Pearls
This had already gone far beyond what I’d budgeted for this move. That money was meant for Slyvana’s yearly shopping and for greasing the right palms!
I stared daggers at Leslie, who sat not far from me,pletely at ease, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Three
years. Three full years. That timid woman who once barely dared to breathe in front of me was now humiliating me–humiliating all of Crimson Moon Pack–in front of the entire continent!
I could feel the eyes of the surrounding Alphas–some pitying, others amused–burning into me. My face stung, as if she had just pped me again and again in front of everyone.
I couldn’t back down. Absolutely not.
If I let Leslie–that traitor of our Pack, that cast–off wife–walk away with our most sacred relic in public, then I, Belle of Crimson Moon Pack, would be nothing more than a joke.
My husband, my son, our entire Pack would be stained with a shame I could never wash away.
Hatred zed in my eyes–pure, unfiltered madness.
“Twenty–five million!” I shouted the number, practically screaming it through gritted teeth. My heart felt like it was bleeding.
The hall erupted in a new wave of
gasps.
The moment I said it, I practically copsed into my seat. I didn’t even have that much to spend. I’d have to call Kirbyter and make him pay for it.
But then… her voice came again–nightmarishly calm, terrifyingly cold.
“Thirty million.”
Thirty million!?
I closed my eyes in despair. My mind went nk.
When I finally came back to myself, all I heard was the sharp, definitive sound of a gavel.
“The Ancestor’s Fang,” the Watcher elder announced solemnly, “goes to Rogue Pack for thirty million credits!”
His words rang out like a public execution–nailing me to a pir of disgrace.
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