CHAPTER 76: CHAPTER 76: BEHIND THE DOORS

The music in the hall swelled, but its rhythm no longer matched the atmosphere of the room.

One by one, the Alphas slipped away. At first, it was hardly noticeable, a single figure excusing himself, another vanishing into the shadows of the doorways. But soon, Selene noticed the pattern. Their chairs grew empty, their wine glasses half-abandoned on silver trays.

Laughter still rang in the air, but it was the laughter of those who held no power. They were either the partners, lesser wolves, or those meant to be dazzled and distracted while true decisions were made behind closed doors.

Selene’s brow furrowed, her mind instinctively becoming clear as she realized the seriousness of the situation. She forgot about Aeron, about storm-grey eyes and the mate bond that gnawed at her veins. None of it mattered now. The only thing that mattered was the witches.

She had worked too hard and risked too much to come this far. The information she carried was almost accurate. The Alpha of the Midnight Pack was planning to auction off the witches he had kept hidden. Young ones, powerful ones, girls barely past childhood. All to be handed over like prizes to whichever Alpha bid highest.

The thought made Selene’s stomach twist.

She could not fathom why he dared it when every Alpha in these lands was clawing to claim witches for themselves. Perhaps his pack was drowning in debts; perhaps he hungered for money more than power. It did not matter. The reason was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was stopping it.

Selene’s gaze swept the hall again. Where had they all gone? Where had the true gathering begun? The chandeliers glittered above her, mocking in their beauty, while the crowd below remained blissfully unaware, laughing, drinking, and dancing, as if the fate of lives was not being sealed in the shadows.

Her heartbeat quickened. She could not stay here, not while the trail was growing colder with every passing breath.

Slipping into the flow of the crowd, Selene moved with careful steps, her expression a mask of serenity.

No one spared her more than a glance—she was just another shadow among them. But the moment she reached the edge of the hall, her calm melted into something sharper. Her body moved quick and silent, her senses reaching outward, seeking the faintest trace of where the Alphas had gone.

The corridors beyond the hall stretched long and dim, lined with velvet drapes and lamps that flickered low. Footsteps echoed somewhere ahead, too faint for mortal ears but not for hers. Selene followed, each step measured, her breath tight in her chest.

She had only one thought now, steady and unyielding.

Find them. Find the witches. Stop whatever they are planning before it’s too late.

And with that resolve burning in her veins, she slipped deeper into the pack house, where the true heart of the gathering waited.

Selene’s footsteps carried her higher, up winding staircases where the music from the hall dimmed into nothing but a distant sound.

The corridors above were colder and emptier, the air heavy with something foul that seeped into her skin. But her instincts were telling her that all of them are somewhere close.

When she finally reached the heavy oak doors, a sliver of lamplight cut across the floor. Selene pressed herself to the side, steadying her breath. The words carried through the cracks.

"...this one’s young...barely sixteen. She’ll fetch a high price."

"Not much power yet, but she’ll be good for rut..."

"And this one, look at her hair... rare bloodline. Twice the price."

Selene’s stomach turned to stone.

She edged closer, slipping into the shadows as the doors gaped slightly open. Her eyes widened.

Inside, the grand chamber was lined with Alphas, their heavy cloaks brushing the floor as they lounged around a long, polished table. But it was not the table that stole her breath. It was the girls.

A line of them knelt on the carpet, chains biting into their wrists and ankles, their heads bowed low. Their skin was pale, their eyes glazed, their bodies trembling weakly with each shallow breath. They were clearly drugged. Some were so young Selene’s heart lurched at the sight, children forced to kneel like cattle.

Her blood boiled.

Every instinct screamed at her to tear through the room, to rip the chains apart and drag them out. But she forced herself still, nails biting into her palms until she could feel blood on her hand. She needed to calm down; Rage could not win here.

The Alphas laughed among themselves, trading prices as if the witches were nothing but jewels or horses. Their words dripped with filth—how a witch would look in their bed, how her power would boost their strength, how much money her suffering was worth.

Selene’s vision swam red. These men—these beasts—deserved nothing but death.

And then her eyes caught on a familiar figure.

At the far side of the room, half-shrouded in shadow, Aeron sat. His posture was composed, his head lowered, and his hands folded. Unlike the others, he did not laugh, did not barter, and did not even lift his gaze to the trembling witches. He sat apart, silent, as though the entire scene was beneath him.

Selene’s chest clenched.

For a moment, her thoughts betrayed her. Was he here to buy, too? Had he fallen so low, so vile, that even he would take part in this filth? The thought sliced through her ribs, cruel and sharp, threatening to consume her.

But she shook it off, hard, forcing the weakness away.

What Aeron did or did not do was none of her concern. He was one of them, regardless. A brother to the monsters who had destroyed her life. She owed him nothing—not her anger, not her hope, not her disappointment.

Her gaze left him and returned to the witches. Their shallow breaths, their trembling hands, and the soft clink of their chains as they tried to even move the slightest bit.

That was what mattered. That was why she was here.

And she swore then, as the Alphas’ filthy laughter echoed in her ears, that she would not leave this place without tearing those chains apart even if it cost her everything.