CLAUDE
THE YATCH JOLTED to life the moment the clock hit six, and I felt it in my bones. Turning to my side, I caught Amelia's gaze already locked on me.
"Come on, Tate, get that chain around your neck," she grinned, slipping out of the short black dress she'd been wearing, leaving only the barest pair of matching black underwear.
"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, my eyes widening, glancing around. Everyone else? Half-naked.
Amelia laughed softly, pulling my attention back to her. "Oh, you didn't know what you were getting into?" She gave me a light pat on the arm, her gaze turning almost sympathetic. "Relax, it's just for show. No one's asking you to strip completely. Just the shirt." I exhaled hard, fingers gripping the cool metal chain in my hand. There was no reason to panic. No one here knew me, and if something went south, I could easily take any one of these humans. I was stronger. Better.
"Oh, God, you're like a lost puppy," Amelia's voice pulled me back, her hands on my shoulders now. I hated how much I craved that touch, how her lack of arousal was oddly comforting in a room full of lust.
"Did you seriously not look into this at all before signing up?" She shook her head, exasperated, like a mom about to give her kid a life lesson. "Okay, listen. First, we walk out those doors—" Her words were cut off by the sound of the sliding doors opening and low murmurs filling the room. "Shit. Okay, no time. You put that chain on and stay in the moment. You can reject up to three people, but after the third one, they'll throw you off the yacht. Got it?"
She gave me a once-over, then added, "Now, get your shirt off and chain up."
I watched as she fell in line with the others, giving me one last glance before disappearing out the door.
My heart was racing now. What the hell was I doing here? Was I, Claude Adams, the son of an Alpha, really about to sell myself for two weeks to be some human's pet?
The uncomfortable answer was a yes.
I wouldn't even think twice about diving into the water, swimming all the way back to my pack if I had to. With one quick motion, I tugged the shirt off, clipped the chain around my neck, and bolted out as the last person left the room.
When I finally glanced around, most of the… Pets—Goddess, that word still felt so strange, even in my own head—were kneeling, eyes downcast, careful not to meet the buyers' gaze. I found a spot off to the side and sank down, letting my eyes sweep over the scene.
Men and women, dressed like they had walked off the cover of some high-end magazine, moved through the room, assessing the merchandise. Us. My senses went on high alert when a woman, older than most here, paused in front of me. She wore a long green dress, the fabric parting at both sides. Her face was powdered to perfection, her hair styled in careful, curling waves.
"Well, aren't you a handsome young man?" Her voice was thick with amusement, and before I could prepare myself, the thick scent of her arousal hit me hard. It was everywhere in the room, but hers felt suffocating.
"I know the starting bid is forty grand, but I'm willing to go up to seventy if it means having you all to myself." She leaned in, and her cleavage was front and center, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I swallowed, eyes darting around, looking for an out, but I was trapped. Not trying to be rude, I managed a, "I'll pass. I'm still… weighing my options." Even I wasn't convinced by my answer, but I had to say something. The truth was, no one in this room interested me. They hadn't for the last five years.
"A shame, baby. I would've taken good care of you."
As she strutted away, relief washed over me, but not for long. A man, probably not much older than me, appeared in her place. His tailored black pants left little to the imagination as he openly showed off his arousal, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"I saw you turn down Madam Fiona over there," he chuckled, "and as much as that's a surprise, I can't say I'm unhappy about it." His eyes raked over my body like I was something to eat. I shuddered, trying to hide the disgust crawling up my spine. He shamelessly palmed himself, lips parted in what he probably thought was a seductive grin.
"Just seeing you on your knees in front of me… if it's money you want, I can give you that. I'll give you whatever you want." His voice was thick with confidence, and it took everything not to roll my eyes. Money? That was the last thing I needed. Hell, I could buy out this entire yacht and every pet here without even putting a dent in my fortune.
"Come on, boy. Speak up."
I felt the weight of someone's gaze on me and tilted my head slightly, catching sight of a man leaning against the far wall. His legs were casually crossed, a drink in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. But his eyes—they never left mine, even when I looked back at him. The energy between us crackled, and as he pushed off the wall and walked toward me, I couldn't tear my eyes away.
He stopped beside the old man—whoever the hell he was—but his focus was all on me.
"Mr. Vlad," he said smoothly, "I didn't realize men were your thing."
Vlad let out a grunt, his eyes still on me. "They're not. But this one… He calls out to me."
I studied him more carefully now. His hair was neatly styled to one side, thick and perfectly groomed. Those gray eyes—sharp, almost predatory—seemed to cut through me, right into my soul. And his lips… full and soft. Too soft. I had the sudden, insane urge to taste them.
The old man—still don't know his name—grinned. "Shame, because he was just about to accept my offer."
But I didn't even glance at him. I was locked in a stare with the man in front of me, and the world felt like it had shrunk down to just the two of us.
He chuckled, then leaned down, his free hand coming up to grip my chin, tilting my face up just enough so I couldn't look away. "Tell me…" he paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
"Tate," I finally said, giving him the name from my fake ID. His brow furrowed, but he didn't let go.
"Well, Tate… would you like to be mine?"
For the first time in years, I felt my body respond. My cock stirred, a rush of heat pulsing through me, and I knew in that moment, I wasn't going to say no. Not to him. Not when he made me feel like we were the only two people in the room.
"Yes," I whispered, the word barely escaping my lips. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face as he released my chin and stood to his full height.
"You heard him, Antonio. He's mine."
The old man—Antonio—grumbled under his breath, shooting me one last glare before he stalked off, muttering, "Didn't even fucking name a price."
I didn't care. My eyes were already back on the man in front of me. He downed the rest of his drink, then held out his hand, and I realized I was still kneeling. I took his hand, standing on unsteady legs, trying to breathe as he stepped in closer, one hand coming back to my chin. His thumb stroked my bottom lip, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Now," he said in a low murmur, "why don't we finish this conversation in our room… Tate."