Ares

One

                     

Chapter 1 

Fear choked the stall air. Our bodies were in unbreakable lines. Tear stained cheeks, left unnoticed by passing monsters. Legs shook under the appending weight of our skeleton. Dirty clothes hide our wrongly beaten and bruised skin.

The younger girls hide under the thin arms of the older ones, in hope of protection. Rotten vomit would happily throw itself out of my fading body, if there was anything left inside my stomach to expel. The trapping lines move our sticky feet forward, as each object leaves through the thick, black curtain, blocking our view of the masters. 

I take a nervous breath; my turn is next. As the heavy curtain lifted, my body stumbled through. The floor moaned under me, drawing all hungry eyes towards me. Stopping as I tripped onto the bloodstained X.

The Auctioneer cleared his throat as he placed a new sheet of information in front of him, which I'm guessing is my paperwork.

Glancing around the ballroom, I noticed it was filled with men, dressed in fine suits; along with their obnoxious wives in tightly fitted ball gowns. For the second time, the man at the front of the room cleared his throat, finally drawing the eyes and ears of the masters to him. He started rambling on, much to the annoyance of the buyers who were impatient to start the bidding. Their eyes were roaming over my body as I span, much to my discomfort. 

The world has changed. Beasts and monsters run this nightmare we are forced to call life, now. Lycanthropes. They created this hell that we now live in. Feed on our fear and hopelessness. They reign over us. Fathers check under beds and in closets for them, while mothers comfort children when they awake from their nightmares. I would gladly experience those horrible dreams, than this. 

"Sold!" 

Slamming of a broken hammer, yanking me from my unwanted thoughts. 

All movement ceases in the room. Mouths hung open like fly traps. Men nod their heads, almost as if they were proud of something. The Auctioneer spoke, nodding to himself. "Sold," he paused, swallowing before continuing,

"To King Ares."

My lips parted, only to close and reopen. Fear shook itself through my body, like a new type of blood.

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Six Alphas and an Emperor. 

Their bodies covered by darkness; blocking lustful stares. 

Three large tables sat at the back, they were on a high level then the others. Their floor matched the high of the stage. The six Alphas split the two tables between them. Separating both tables, was a larger one. Filled with platters of untouched food and wine. Behind the table a long, metal throne stood uneasy, on top the black floorboards.

His body sitting stiffly in the over-dramatic armchair. An elbow is propped up on the armrest, with a clenched fist supporting a sharp, defined jaw. Long knife-like fingers are curled against his face, covering the edge of his cherry colored lips, which are drawn in tight line. His straight nose leads to blank, emotionless green eyes, framed by long, thick black lashes. Bulky brows clenched tightly, match his midnight coluored hair that lays atop his head, untamed and unruly.

Calculating eyes watched each subject as they cowered onto the stage. He grows bored and annoyed as none capture his attention. The man beside him raises his hand in the air; buying the blond boy currently being sold, adding to his collection.

His lips parted, tilting his head upward as a small, dark haired girl falls upon the 'X' in the center of the stage. Shes shaking, even from this distance, he can see it clearly. Her fear is evidenced from the way shes holding herself. She moves in a circle gentle, showing everyone her body. Her back is tined with scars, some are thick, others are long and fine. The rest of her body is decorated in blue and purple marks. His fingers crush the arms of the chair, breaking them. Rage takes over his mind, mixed with a unknown feeling. His stomach drops as he watching men rise their arms for her. He wanted to break those arms. He smiles softly to himself, raising his arm, purchase the girl. His girl. 

Men and women turn their heads, but never make contacted. 

"Mine." The king states.