Chapter 2 SOLD

Morning light crept through the small, grimy window, casting a faint glow on the cramped room. Dust motes danced in the sunbeam, highlighting the space's stark poverty.

Amby's heart sank as she rose from her pallet, the straw mattress creaking beneath her. Her mind racing with the events to come, she rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes. The chill of the morning air clung to her skin, making her shiver.

Downstairs, her uncle, Williams, awaited her, his face stern and unyielding as the stone walls. His voice growled up the stairs, devoid of emotion.

"Amby! Get ready."

The words echoed through the narrow corridor, a harsh summons. Amby nodded silently, her hands trembling as she gathered her meager belongings. Her fingers brushed against the worn fabric of her cloak, the familiar texture offering scant comfort.

Amby quickly gazed into the worn hall mirror. Her height was six feet short of two inches and allowed her full view of the high mirror. Her golden brown hair, normally a cascading waterfall down her back, was now tightly braided. Her amber eyes, bright as honey in sunlight, shone with quiet resilience. Her smooth, creamy skin bore the faintest scatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose. A smudge of fatigue lingered beneath her eyes, testament to sleepless nights.

She looked down at her body, her slender yet athletic frame filled out her worn maid's dress, her best. The dull grey fabric hung loosely, accentuating her height. Frayed sleeves and a patched hem spoke to her hardworking reality.

"Presentable," she murmured, adjusting her braid.

"Amby!" Williams' voice echoed from downstairs.

"Yes, Uncle!" she replied, smoothing her dress.

"Remember, the king's emissary arrives soon. Show respect."

"I will, Uncle."

Amby's stomach twisted her breath catching. She smoothed her hair, a futile attempt to calm her racing heart. She descended the stairs, her long legs carrying her with quiet confidence. Her eyes fixed on the door, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Elara watched with a smug smile, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You'll make a fine palace servant," she taunted.

Amby ignored her, focusing on the task at hand. She wouldn't give Elara the satisfaction of seeing her break. As they waited, Amby's thoughts turned to her parents. Would they have wanted this for her? Would they have protected her?

A knock sounded on the door, and Williams's expression turned calculating. "That'll be the emissary. Let's get this over with."

Amby's heart sank as a tall, imposing figure entered the room. His eyes scanned her, assessing her value.

"This is Amby, wolfless omega," Williams announced, his voice dripping with disdain. "As agreed, she's yours for the taking."

The emissary nodded curtly, producing a pouch of coins. "The king's payment, as promised."

Williams's eyes gleamed with greed, like polished onyx, as he took the pouch. The soft clink of gold coins within was music to his ears. He weighed the pouch in his hand, his fingers closing around it like a vice.

Amby felt a pang of shame, a bitter taste on her tongue. She knew she was nothing more than a commodity, a prize to be bought and sold. She saw as the emissary's gaze lingered on her, his eyes roaming over her features. She sensed a flicker of curiosity, a spark of interest.

But Williams's expression remained calculating, his mind already spent. The pouch would clear his gambling debts, wipe the slate clean. Amby knew this, had heard his whispered worries in the dead of night. The weight of her worth settled heavy on her shoulders. She felt like livestock, auctioned off to the highest bidder. The air thickened with tension, heavy with unspoken expectations.

Williams's voice dripped with avarice.

"The agreement is settled, then?"

The emissary nodded, his gaze never leaving Amby's face.

"A fair price, considering her... unique qualities."

Amby's cheeks burned, her heart sinking. She knew her value lay not in her soul, but in her bloodline.

"Follow me," the emissary ordered, turning to leave.

Amby hesitated, glancing at her uncle. No goodbye, no words of encouragement, just a cold, calculating dismissal. She looked at Elara, who deliberately looked away. Her mother was still in the room, enjoying her beauty sleep. Amby sighed. Ten years of servitude, poured down the drain. With a heavy heart, Amby followed the emissary.

As Amby followed the emissary out the door, she cast one last glance at the only home she'd ever known. The small cottage, once filled with warmth and laughter, now seemed cold and unforgiving. Her eyes lingered on Elara's smug face, watching from the window. Amby felt a pang of sorrow, wondering why her cousin couldn't have shown her kindness.

Williams stood in the doorway, his expression unyielding. No softening, no regret. Amby's heart ached, knowing she meant nothing to him, though he was her mother's brother. With a deep breath, Amby turned away, leaving behind the memories, both bitter and sweet. The emissary's horse awaited, its saddle gleaming in the morning sun.

As Amby mounted the horse, a wave of uncertainty washed over her. Where was she headed? What lay ahead?

The emissary's voice broke into her thoughts. "Hold tight, we have a long journey ahead."

Just as Amby thought she'd left her painful past behind, a shrill voice pierced the air.

"Wait!" Williams's wife, Victoria, rushed out of the cottage, her face twisted in malice.

Amby's heart sank, anticipating more cruelty.Victoria stormed up to the horse, her eyes blazing.

"You think you're better than us, don't you? Sold to the Lycan King, thinking you'll find luxury and comfort." Amby shook her head, trying to calm the older woman.

But Victoria's venomous words spilled forth. "Listen well, Amby, you'll never be more than a servant, a plaything for the king's whims. Don't think you'll find love or acceptance. You're nothing but a wolfless omega, a defect."

Amby felt each word like a slap, her face burning.

Victoria's gaze turned icy. "And don't bother thinking you'll ever return here. You're dead to us, Amby. Dead."

With those final, crushing words, Victoria turned and stormed back into the cottage, slamming the door shut.

Amby felt a stinging sensation in her eyes, but she refused to let tears fall. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

The emissary's gentle voice broke the silence. "We should go."

Amby nodded, turning her gaze forward. She knew she'd never look back.

As the horse began to move, Amby whispered to herself, "I'm free."

She wrapped her hands around the saddle horn. The horse began to move, carrying her away from the only life she'd known. As the cottage receded into the distance, Amby felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back, steeling herself for the unknown.

What would the Lycan King be like? Would he be cruel or kind? And what of the palace, with its whispers of dark secrets and ancient traditions?

The wind whipped through Amby's hair as the horse picked up pace. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of the ride calm her racing thoughts.

A new chapter awaited, filled with danger, mystery, and perhaps... hope.