She didn't remember the ride. Just the cuffs. The stench of smoke and piss. The way the chain around her neck yanked tight every time the metal-braced carriage hit a rut in the dirt road.
They hadn't even bothered to blindfold her. That would've implied she was worth hiding.
She sat in the back, knees bruised, wrists burning, hands bound in front of her like she was a danger to someone besides herself. The iron floor grated against her skin every time the carriage jolted. There were no windows. Just thick slits carved into the sides for ventilation and to remind her that freedom was outside, and she didn't even know if she would even live long enough to taste it.
The guards didn't speak to her. Not a word the entire ride. But she could feel their eyes when they thought she wasn't looking. She wasn't dressed in anything special just a torn shirt, dried blood staining the sleeves, pants stiff with filth, but they stared at her like she was merchandise. Like they couldn't believe someone with a body like hers hadn't been sold off sooner.
That was the thing about Vireya.
Everyone wanted a piece.
Until they realized she came with thorns.
The carriage screeched to a stop. The door flung open.
"Out," one of the guards barked.
She didn't move fast enough, so they dragged her.
Dirt hit her face when they threw her to her knees in the center of the clearing. The auction was already in motion—dozens of wolves stood around the campfire, growling and bargaining like they were trading weapons or livestock.
They were.
Only difference was, she was still breathing.
"Ten thousand credits," her father snapped to the Karrnack Beta across from him, like he was haggling over the price of scrap metal. "She's healthy. Mostly. Doesn't talk much unless you hit her first."
Vireya didn't even blink.
"Five," the Karrnack Beta said, voice cold. "She's untrained. Unclaimed. Dirty as shit. And clearly got too much bite."
Her father laughed, loud and wet. "That's what makes her fun."
"She's not worth more than a bet, old man. What the fuck did you even lose this time?"
The smile slipped from her father's face for just a second.
"Dice," he muttered. "Stupid game. Don't matter now. Just take the girl and we're even."
Five thousand credits. That's what she was worth.
Not even cash. Not even something real.
She'd been sold to pay off a fucking dice debt.
The chain snapped tight around her neck as the Beta yanked her forward to inspect the "merchandise."
She didn't flinch.
He grinned.
"Pretty little bitch," he muttered, running a hand down her arm like he was checking a horse. "You'll break nice."
She spit on his boots.
The backhand came fast. Her lip split open. She tasted copper and smiled.
The firelight danced across her skin, painting her in orange and blood-red. Her fiery hair clung to her cheeks, wet with sweat and spit and fury. Against the grime of her face, her pale skin looked almost ghostlike, freckled, bruised, and glowing like a curse.
Someone in the crowd muttered, "She looks cursed."
She smiled wider.
Let them think that.
Let them all think she was something to fear.
It was better than being nothing.
"Deal's done," the Beta said, tossing her father a filthy coin as if he was doing him a favor.
And just like that, the man who'd raised her turned and walked away without looking back.
Didn't say goodbye.
Didn't even check if she was still breathing.
She watched him go, jaw clenched, the chain pulling her to her feet.
It wasn't the first time she'd been traded. Just the first time it was this public.
They dragged her into the woods, two guards at her sides like they thought she might run.
She didn't.
Not yet.
Her feet were bare. Her lip stung. Her ribs ached. But her eyes burned.
Still awake. Still aware.
Still angry.
The outpost came into view—a crumbling stone ruin with rusted bars for doors. The Beta's personal kennel, where he liked to "break in" new acquisitions.
She'd heard the stories.
Girls who went in here didn't come out the same.
Some didn't come out at all.
The guards shoved her inside and locked the gate.
The last thing she saw was the Beta's face watching her through the bars like a man who'd just been handed his new favorite toy.
Her hands curled into fists behind her back.
Let them think she was cursed.
Let them think she was weak.
She didn't know what was coming next.
But she knew this:
The next man who touched her would regret it.
And if she didn't survive this, she was at least taking someone with her.