Jillian POV:
Two weeks later, the silence in the house was deafening. Alex barely spoke to me, treating me more like a roommate he was evicting soon.
"Get dressed," he commanded one evening, throwing a garment bag onto the bed. "The Obsidian Pack Charity Gala. You're coming."
I unzipped the bag. The dress was sheer. Too sheer. It was a statement piece, designed to show off the body beneath, leaving nothing to the imagination.
"Alex, this is... revealing," I whispered.
"It's expensive," he said, adjusting his cufflinks. "Wear it. Look pretty. Don't speak unless spoken to."
The Gala was dripping with crystal chandeliers and the scent of old money. As we entered, the whispers started. They weren't hiding it anymore. They knew the bet was almost over.
And then I saw Charlotte. She stood on the dais, wearing the Moonstone Necklace. It glowed against her skin, a beacon of my humiliation.
Alex guided me to the front row, his grip bruising.
"And now, for the main event!" the auctioneer announced. "Item number one. A rare, blue diamond collar. Encrusted with sapphires. Perfect for... displaying ownership."
The crowd chuckled.
"One million," Alex shouted.
The room gasped.
"Five million!" another Alpha shouted.
"Twenty million," Alex said calmly.
Silence.
"Sold! To Alpha Alex Bradley!"
Alex stood up. He didn't send me to pay. He walked onto the stage, took the collar, and walked back to me.
The room went deadly quiet.
"Stand up," he ordered.
I stood, my legs shaking.
He unclasped the heavy, jeweled collar. "Turn around."
"Alex, please," I begged softly. "Everyone is watching."
"Exactly," he hissed in my ear. "You wanted to be my mate? Then wear my mark."
He snapped the collar around my neck. The lock clicked. It was heavy, cold, and tight. A symbol of slavery, not love.
"Beautiful," he said loud enough for the room to hear. He patted my cheek.
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Phones were out, recording. #TheAlphasPet.
Alex turned and walked toward the side exit where Charlotte was waiting. He didn't look back.
I stood there, the diamonds heavy on my throat, burning with shame. I touched the cold metal.
Enjoy your laugh, Obsidian Pack, I thought, my inner wolf snarling. This collar isn't a mark of ownership. It's a declaration of war.
