Auctioned To The Panther
Ashley Hunter
Copyright 2016 by Ashley Hunter
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced
in any way whatsoever, without written permission
from the author, except in case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews
and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any
character, person, living or dead, events, place or
organizations is purely coincidental. The author does not
have any control over and does not assume any responsibility
for third party websites or their content.
First edition, 2016
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Chapter One
Grace sobbed and stumbled forwards a couple steps as one of the men tugged at the chain attached to her handcuffs. With the lights shining right in her eyes, she couldn't see out into the crowd, but then again, she didn't want to. She choked back another sob, wishing she could hide her bruised, half-naked body. The drugs made her mind a bit foggy, but she could still half-hear the men shouting out their bids for her.
She felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn't just the drugs or the pain. She couldn't believe everything that had happened in the past couple weeks…
She waited excitedly outside her office building for Liam to arrive. She hadn't seem her childhood friend in years now, not since he'd moved across the country, although they'd managed to sporadically keep in touch online and via text. She'd been so happy to get a message that he was finally moving back to the city, and even more happy when he had asked her out on a date.
It wasn't that Grace had been pining for him or anything; she'd had her share of relationships. But they all seemed to fall flat compared to her friendship with Liam, who not only was handsome but who could also always be counted on to make her laugh or cheer her up on her bad days. And now he had a great job here in the city. Of course, she wasn't planning their future just yet, but…well, she'd certainly known him long enough that she thought he'd be perfect for her.
And a week later, she was even surer of that. They'd hung out together nearly every evening since that first—and boy did he have a nice apartment! She was relearning all the different things about him that she hadn't remembered with their lack of face-to-face communication: he was ridiculously funny and charming. And something new, he was a good cook!
She hadn't really questioned it when she found herself falling for him; although they'd only known each other for a short time as adults, they'd really known each other for the better part of their lives. And with the amount of time they were spending together now, they were learning each other's quirks quickly. So even after a couple weeks, she was pretty sure, in her mind that they were probably going to end up getting married.
In retrospect, she'd been an idiot, but that wasn't going to help her now. Things didn't work out that perfectly for any reason; he had just been playing her the whole time, and she'd made it easy for him.
The thing was, she'd seen all those news stories about women who were kidnapped and kept as sex slaves, locked away in someone's basement. She'd just never expected something like that would ever happen to her, and she definitely hadn't expected Liam, of all people, to be the one to sell her at an auction.
She shifted her weight slightly and swallowed hard—it sounded like the bidding process was winding down, just a couple bidders left in the game. Of course, all of the men she could make out were old, lecherous, and disgusting—she didn't want to end up with any of them, and she especially didn't want to belong to one of them. And once the bidding process was over and one of them had won...well, then what? She shuddered to think about it.
Grace didn't really remember how she had got to the auction; the last thing she remembered was being out with Liam at this fancy socialites party.
She hadn't realized that Liam already had so many acquaintances there in the city, but of course, it made sense since he was still working in the same field and they probably all traveled a lot for business. She smoothed her hands over the silk dress Liam had bought for her, glad that he hadn't left her attire up to her since she would've felt out of place even in her nicest dress.
“Relax,” Liam murmured, handing her a bubbly, pink drink. He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. “I'm going to take care of you, all right?”
He paraded her around the party, easily soothing Grace's nerves with his easy chatter and more of those drinks, his arm loosely looped around her waist. She could get used to this…
Towards the end of the night, she felt herself getting sleepy. “Are we headed home soon?” she asked Liam hopefully. Her heels were starting to hurt her feet; they must've been there for hours now, and although she thought this look into the upper echelons of society was interesting, she had to admit that she was a bit...bored.
Liam smiled down at her. “Sleepy? Let's go then—this way.” He led her towards the door, but the next thing Grace knew, blackness was engulfing her vision and she could feel herself falling…
“3500,” a gruff voice said from one side of the room. If Grace had been in a better state of mind, she might have been shocked at how much money they were offering for her. Not that she didn't think she was attractive, with her flowing red hair, grey eyes, and curves, but she had no idea sex slaves went for that many thousands of dollars! (At least, she assumed they were bidding dollars; for all she knew, they could have been bidding goats or chickens or something…)
It seemed like the bidding had stopped, with no one else stepping forward to offer bids. Then, just as the bidding was about to close, a new man emerged from the shadows in the back corner. “35,000,” he said smoothly.
He was just as impeccably dressed as everyone else in the room but held himself almost more arrogantly, if possible. He hadn't joined in with the rest of the bidding and had instead bided his time until there was only one competitor.
A murmur of surprise went through the room at his bid. The previous bidder was enraged. “You have no use for her, Christian!” he snapped. “She's not even your type.”
Christian's lips drew back into a snarl, showing his teeth. “Do you want to fight over her?” he asked, stalking dangerously forwards. He circled slowly around the smaller man. “We could have an old-fashioned duel, if you like—bare-handed or with the weapons of your choice. You wouldn't stand a chance.”
The bidder jumped forward, arms swinging, but was pulled away by a pair of large bouncers who emerged from the side of the room.
Christian snorted and turned back to survey the woman he had just bought. He walked forward and grabbed her chin, turning Grace's tear-stained face towards him. The woman was terrified, he realized, nostrils flaring to take in her scent.
She smelled so amazing, and he'd love to mate with her right there, claim her in front of all these disgusting, evil men, but that would have to wait: the woman was already terrified enough, choking back sobs, and he didn't want to frighten her further or act even remotely similar to the other men at this horrible party.
Christian hadn't known that this...abomination was happening in his town, on his territory. He'd been invited by a friend to close a business deal, and while he hadn't initially wanted to even attend, his friend
had told him the business deal would only be concluded if he did attend. Apparently, the high-class party was nothing more than a front for a slave ring.
He spun around and fixed Liam Henderson with an icy glare. Although he knew he needed to report the whole incident to the authorities, he knew that the best way to deal with this for now—especially now that he'd become involved after buying this woman—was just to intimidate the man into ceasing these illegal activities.
Christian had quite a bit of clout in the town, and Liam, a newcomer, would want to lay low for a little while, which would hopefully give the authorities enough time to build a case against the man if Christian called in an anonymous tip.
“I don't want to hear a word of anything like this ever going on again,” Christian informed the man, voice low and dangerous. He flicked his gaze over the rest of the group too, making note of the faces he recognized. “From any of you,” he added.
Most men ducked their heads like nervous schoolchildren; they didn't need to know Christian was a panther-shifter to feel the dangerous power that rolled off him in waves. Somewhere in their primitive brains, they responded to his threat, and they began to slink slowly out of the room, one-by-one.
Satisfied that this would at least put an end to the proceedings for the night, he spun back to the woman he had bought, only to find her laying crumpled in a heap on the floor, evidently having fainted and been left where she lay now that she was no longer the responsibility of the bouncers.
Christian felt another surge of anger flow through him and fought not to let his emotions get the better of himself—the last thing he needed was to shift even partway in this room. No, he needed to care for the woman, take her home and put her to bed and nurse her back to health. Christian knelt beside her and tenderly brushed a few stray strands of red hair back from her face, bewitched by her elfin appearance.
He shook his head and began inspecting the handcuffs encircling her wrists and the chain linked to them. Fortunately, they were of poor quality, and a sharp tug was all that was needed to snap them free (granted, Christian was stronger than the average human, especially the young woman who lay there). He snarled at the sight of the raw, red skin where the handcuffs had bit in.
Grace blinked back into awareness, but she could hardly find the energy to sit up, instead blinking lethargically at the man kneeling above her. Her new owner, her mind supplied bitterly. She shrank away from his touch as he reached down to lift her up.
Christian's lips pressed tightly together for a moment when the girl moved away from him. “Relax,” he said impatiently. “I'm going to get you out of here.” He wanted her out of this nightmare as soon as possible.
Grace whimpered. “I just want to go home,” she begged. “Please, I don't want to–don't want to–” She swallowed hard.
Christian's expression hardened slightly. “You're in no state to go home right now,” he pointed out. “You need medical help, or at least to rest up for a few days. I'll take you to my place, keep you safe. Then we'll talk about this...revolting mess.” He couldn't stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers down her cheek, but he froze and let his hand drop when she flinched away.
“Please,” Grace tried again, voice hardly audible. “Don't-”
“Can you stand?” Christian asked, wishing she would quit being so foolish. Couldn't she see he was trying to help her? Without waiting for an answer—he already knew she was too weak to walk out of there on her own—he scooped her into his arms and rose.
Liam was silently scowling at him, arms folded across his chest, but Christian disregarded him; he was nothing more than a petulant child. Christian made his way slowly out of the place and nodded at his driver, Pearson—the clever man had pulled the car around front already, no doubt having seen the dozens of other people streaming out and surmised that for some reason, the party was over early.
Christian disregarded Grace's weak protests and laid her gently on the backseat. He climbed in next to her, his panther side not wanting to be very far away from her when she was so scared like this. He stroked her hair gently, leaning forward to direct Pearson.
“Let's go home, Pearson,” he said, still stroking Grace's hair and happy when she slowly relaxed against him, pillowing her head on his thigh. “I don't think there's anything that warrants a hospital visit tonight, and I'd like to get her all settled in to rest.”
“My name's Grace,” the woman offered, eyes closed.
Christian felt his lips twitch into a smile. “I'm Christian,” he responded. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Grace snorted. “Not so much pleased to meet you,” she muttered. Then, she swallowed hard, wondering if he would punish her for having said that. “I mean. Just…”
“Shh,” Christian murmured, sensing the spike in her panic. “I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just want to get you away from here.”
“What are you going to do with me?” Grace asked fearfully, pulling away and trying to sit up. She managed it, but she slumped against the man's shoulder a moment later. Her teeth chattered in what Christian knew had to be shock and probably the initial stages of a comedown of whatever they had drugged her with.
He slid a protective arm around her shoulders, tugging her close in an attempt to both warm her and assuage his panther side that she was going to be all right.
“I'm going to take you home and put you in a bed and cover you with a bunch of blankets to keep you warm,” he rumbled. “And when you wake up in the morning, I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed. And then maybe, depending on how you're feeling, we'll talk about what to do next. Whatever happens, I'm going to make sure you're safe.”
Grace swallowed hard; afraid she was being deceived again. Liam had promised to keep her safe too… “I don't want to...have sex,” she whispered, even though she knew in her heart that it didn't matter: this man had just paid thousands of dollars for her body; he could do with it as he wished.
Christian tightened the grip he had on her as they pulled up in front of his mansion. “Then we won't,” he promised, even though inside, he was wondering if he'd be able to keep his hands off her, with her cloying scent in his nostrils and her luscious curves there in his arms.
Grace pulled back, though, looking up at him with an expression so desperately hopeful that it would've broken his heart to break that promise to her. Let her come to you, he reminded himself.
“You promise we won't...” She trailed off, eyes dropping. “I mean; I know I have no right to ask that. Sorry.” She rubbed at her sore wrist.
Christian lightly lifted her chin with his index finger, looking deep into those sea-grey eyes. “I won't do anything you don't want me to do—within reason,” he said. “I want to keep you safe.” Pearson opened the door, and Christian set about getting the two of them out, pulling the woman back into his arms and carrying her bridal-style up to the front door.
“I don't want to own you,” Christian informed her, “but you'll stay here for a week or more—however long it takes until I'm satisfied that you've recovered from this and until Liam and the others are behind bars, where they can never touch you again.”
Grace struggled against him. He might not plan to touch her tonight, but how could she trust that he'd keep his hands off her indefinitely? Especially when she was essentially his prisoner. “You can't keep me here, please,” she begged. “I just want to go home.” She started crying softly. “Please, I just want to go home.”
Christian sighed softly, setting her carefully down in one of the guest rooms and tucking the covers around her, heedless of the way she was trying to escape. “We'll talk in the morning,” he promised her. “For now, you need to rest.”
Grace wanted to protest further, but she found her eyes closing against her will. The drugs still had a slight hold on her, and her emotions had worn her out further. She felt herself slipping away to sleep, surprised at how absolutely sure she was that Christian wouldn't touch her while she was asleep.
S
he couldn't shake the strange feeling that even though the man had bought her, she was...safe there? Before she could examine the feeling further, she drifted off to sleep.
Christian watched his sleeping mate for a moment, then lightly kissed her forehead and left the room before he did something he'd regret. He needed to figure out a plan of action.
Chapter Two
Grace's sleep, for all that she was exhausted, was far from restful, and she awoke in the morning feeling like she could easily sleep away the rest of the day and the following night. But she had to get out of there—the sooner, the better!
She struggled to sit up, wincing in pain as her bandaged wrists ached (she didn't remember them being bandaged when she'd gone to sleep…). She had just got her feet on the tiled floor when there was a soft knock at the door. The door swung open a moment later, and Christian peeked his head around it, smiling when he saw Grace sitting up.
He entered the room, carefully balancing a tray in front of himself. “Good morning,” he said warmly. “I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?”
Grace swallowed and shook her head, not up to talking just yet.
Christian's cheerful expression faltered a bit as he set the tray on the bedside table. He sat carefully beside her and, just as carefully, pulled her into his arms, making sure to hold her loosely enough that she wouldn't feel trapped but tightly enough that she'd feel comforted. “I know,” he murmured. “You're safe now, though.”
Grace, to her surprise, felt herself relaxing a bit against him, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek to the soft fabric of his shirt. She felt another round of tears crowding her eyes but fought them back.
After a long minute, Christian pulled back, gently swiping a tear off Grace's pale cheek. He stared at her seriously for a moment, and then shook his head. “Come on, sit back,” he said, easily maneuvering her so she was propped against the headboard instead of sat at the edge of the bed.
Romance: Auctioned To The Panther: BBW Dragon Shifter Romance Standalone (Wild Shifters Book 2) Page 1