The Luna they betrayed became Untouchable

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

WELCOME TO THE HOWLING AUCTION.

A massive black banner stretched across the entrance, its silver embroidery glinting under the sun. Wolves from every corner of the realm flowed through the gates.

Alphas dressed in embroidered coats walked alongside Betas and Gammas. Merchants shouted over one another from rows of lavish stalls displaying enchanted weapons, rare ores, gemstones, exotic herbs, and relics that hadn’t seen daylight in centuries.

I slowed for a moment, taking it all in.

Even though every Alpha was permitted to bring his Luna, most never did. This gathering was for politics, power, and profit. Women were expected to remain behind while the men negotiated the future of the realm.

"Luna..."

Tristan’s voice came from beside me. "Are you ready?"

I glanced at him before a small smirk tugged at my lips. "Are you ready, Beta?"

A rare smile crossed his face. "I’ve followed you into a battlefield before. I suppose an auction can’t be any worse."

I laughed softly. "Let’s hope you’re right."

We stepped through the gates together.

The deeper we walked, the louder everything became.

The clang of steel striking steel echoed from a demonstration arena where blacksmiths tested enchanted blades. Nearby, merchants argued over prices while nobles examined polished gemstones under the sunlight.

Servants hurried between tents carrying wine and expensive fabrics. Warriors from dozens of different packs sized one another up with cautious eyes.

"Beta—" I called out, and Tristan immediately leaned closer.

"Would he have gotten it by now?" I asked, remembering the papers I’d sent to Kael this morning.

"He should receive them before the day’s over."

I nodded. "Good."

By now, Kael’s peaceful morning was already over. Whether he knew it yet or not.

I allowed myself the smallest smile.

"Come, we need to find where Alpha Lucien is staying before the main auction begins."

Tristan nodded. "The noble pavilions should be beyond the eastern courtyard."

We continued walking until the elegant merchant stalls gradually gave way to noisier streets lined with taverns and gaming tables.

Unlike the refined atmosphere near the entrance, this section buzzed with drunken laughter.

Groups of warriors and lesser Alphas crowded around gambling boards, cheering whenever someone won.

Tristan stopped beside one of the tables. "We’ll ask here."

One of the men looked up from his cards. He was broad-shouldered, already red-faced from drink.

His eyes settled on me, and he grinned, showing off his rotten yellow teeth.

"Well... now that’s a pretty sight."

The table erupted into laughter.

Another man leaned back in his chair. "What brings a little lady somewhere like this?"

"We’re looking for the Supreme Alpha’s pavilion," I said evenly. "Would one of you happen to know the way?"

The first man grinned lazily. "I know."

His eyes wandered over me without shame.

"But directions aren’t free." He pushed himself to his feet with an exaggerated groan.

"Maybe..." he drawled, swaying slightly from the alcohol, "you could give us a little smile first."

"If you’re unwilling to answer," I said calmly, "we’ll ask someone else."

I turned to leave, but before I could take another step, a rough hand closed around my wrist.

The movement was so sudden that even the man’s companions fell silent for a heartbeat.

Beside me, Tristan moved, his hand already halfway to the sword at his waist.

I lifted my free hand. "Leave it." And he stopped.

I looked down at the hand the man had around my wrist, then up at him. "Let go."

"Come now, sweetheart. It’s only a little touch." His grip tightened rather than loosened. "You’ll want to be friendlier than that if you plan on getting anywhere useful today."

I flicked my wrist free with a sharp, practiced motion—the same one I might have used on a servant who’d forgotten his place—and stepped back.

The man’s grin faltered, clearly embarrassed.

"Let’s go, Tristan." We hadn’t gone more than a few paces before the laughter returned.

"Would you look at that," the man called after us, delighted. "She’s got him on a leash, boys. Heel, boy."

"Careful with her, friend," another added, howling with laughter. "Bet she doesn’t let him piss without asking permission first."

"I’ve seen hunting dogs with more backbone." Another voice joined in.

"Does she feed you from her hand too?"

Tristan’s shoulders became rigid beneath his cloak.

I continued walking. "Ignore them."

"What happened to warriors? They used to have pride." Another bark of laughter echoed through the street.

"I’d sooner cut out my own tongue than call a woman ’my lady.’"

We were nearly clear of the noise when something struck my shoulder—a coin or a stone, I never saw which—but it was followed by a low, filthy whistle.

"Come back here, sweetheart. Let a real man show you what a leash is actually for."

I stopped, and Tristan stopped a half-step behind me, every line of him coiled tight.

I slowly turned, and the drunken man’s grin widened.

"What? You finally realised your place?"

I looked at Tristan, but he was already watching me, waiting.

"Beta, they’ve insulted your Lady enough. Defend my honor and bring him to me."

Tristan didn’t ask which one.

He moved before the man’s grin had even finished forming, putting him flat on his back in the dirt. The others scrambled up from the gaming table, shouting, reaching for whatever was nearest, but it made no difference.

I watched, arms folded, as Tristan moved through them like a man who’d spent five years standing at an Alpha’s right hand for exactly this reason. It was over in the space of a few breaths. Four men scattered across the dirt, groaning, none of them rising fast enough to matter.

Then his gaze settled on the drunken man who had thrown the object at me. The man’s bravado vanished.

"W-Wait..." He tried to crawl backward, but Tristan seized him by the ankle.

The man screamed as he was dragged across the dirt, clawing uselessly at the ground.

"No! I’m sorry! I didn’t know—"

Tristan didn’t answer. He dragged him all the way to where I stood before throwing him onto his knees with enough force that the man’s forehead struck the ground.

The man cried out as blood trickled from his split lip and broken nose.

Tristan stood behind him like an executioner.

"My lady." His voice was calm. "I’ve brought him."

The drunken man lay flat on the ground, begging for his life.

"That hand you touched me with—I’ll make sure you never touch another woman that way." I spat out, lifting my foot to stomp on his hand, but paused.

"I won’t step on filth." I looked at Tristan and gave a curt nod. I turned around, walking through the crowd that had now gathered, the man’s scream ringing behind me.

The man’s screams faded behind us as Tristan fell back into step at my side.

Around us, the crowd slowly dispersed, already searching for the next spectacle.

Neither of us noticed the pair of men standing on the second-floor balcony overlooking the street.

One rested both hands against the carved railing, his sharp blue eyes following the woman disappearing into the crowd below.

His Beta frowned. "Alpha Damon?"

Damon didn’t answer immediately.

"...Interesting."

"What is?"

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Damon’s mouth. "I thought I recognized her."

His Beta looked down again, confused. "Recognized who?"

Damon never took his eyes off the retreating figure.

"Silver Creek’s former Luna."

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