Dimitri's Point Of View
The room smells of cigarettes and whiskey-- as the auctioneer coordinated the bid organized by Rafael. A young girl in a torn dress, stood, with a chain clinging tightly around her neck. The auction was nothing more than a slave trade, Rafael was selling werewolves and human alike--- men, women and children, like they were just a bunch of animals. It was just disgusting.
"Thirty-five thousand, five hundred." Rashnikov said, lifting up a board. He was the Alpha of a little pack up north, the skull pack, nothing more than mafias in furry clothing if you asked me. His mate looked quite decent, Antonia was her name, I saw her approaching my little witch before I left.
"Thirty-five thousand five hundred dollars, going…" the auctioneer spoke, searching for anyone with a higher bid among the crowd of Alphas.
