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Bought By The Beast  Novel Cover

Bought By The Beast

When Rielle Morven is betrayed by her boyfriend and sold at an illegal werewolf auction to pay off his debts, she expects her life is over. But the male who buys her for five million dollars isn't a werewolf alpha, he's something far more dangerous. Caspian Valdyr is a lycan king with a reputation for violence and a hunger for control. He doesn't just want Rielle's body, he wants to claim her soul through an unbreakable mate bond that will tie them together forever. But Rielle carries a secret in her blood that makes her worth more than gold to the wrong people. When a fifty-million-dollar bounty is placed on her head, Caspian must decide: return her to the monsters who want to breed her like livestock, or go to war to keep what he's claimed as his. In a world where power is everything and mercy is weakness, Rielle discovers that being owned by a beast might be her only path to freedom. But freedom comes with a price, and Caspian's claiming bite will mark her as his for eternity. One auction. One bite. One bond that will either save them both or destroy everything. A fast-paced, high-heat dark romance featuring an obsessive anti-hero, a heroine discovering her hidden power, explosive chemistry, and absolutely no holding back.
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Chapter 5

The silence was worse than the noise.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs still shaking from the venom coursing through my system, and listened to nothing. The soundproofing was too good. I couldn't hear gunshots or fighting or screaming.

Couldn't hear if Caspian was winning.

Or dying.

The bond pulsed in my chest, a living connection that felt like a second heartbeat. His emotions bled through. Rage. Focus. The cold calculation of violence being executed with precision.

He was alive.

For now.

I tried to stand again, managed three steps before my knees buckled. The venom was still rewriting me, and every nerve ending felt raw and exposed. Even the air against my skin was almost too much sensation.

I needed clothes. Needed to be ready to move if, when, Caspian came back.

The weapons cache had extra gear. I pulled on tactical pants that were too big, a shirt that hung off one shoulder, boots I had to tie tight to keep from sliding off. Everything smelled like gun oil and violence.

Nothing smelled like Caspian.

My wolf, the part of me I'd barely acknowledged since Kieran's betrayal, stirred restlessly. She wanted our mate. Wanted to know he was safe. The bond was too new, too raw, and the separation felt like being torn in half.

"He's fine," I told myself. "He's a lycan. He can handle a few hunters."

The bond flared with sudden pain.

I gasped, doubling over as Caspian's agony lanced through me. Something had hurt him. Badly.

"No," I breathed. "No, no, no..."

The pain faded to a dull throb, replaced by cold fury that definitely wasn't mine.

He was still fighting. Still alive.

But hurt.

I stumbled to the door, pressed my hand against the scanner David had used. Nothing happened. Of course. It was keyed to David's palm, not mine.

"Fuck." I slammed my fist against the steel, knowing it was useless. "Caspian!"

No response.

The bond pulsed again with determination, violence, and satisfaction. He'd killed someone. Maybe multiple someones.

But there were more. I could feel his awareness of threats still surrounding him, could feel his tactical assessment running through what I'd do next, where the danger was--

The door hissed.

I stumbled backward as it opened, raising my hands in some pathetic attempt at self-defense.

David stood there, covered in blood that definitely wasn't his. His cold blue eyes took me in; the too-big clothes, the shaking hands, the bite mark on my neck that was still angry and red.

"Claimed," he observed. "Good. That'll help."

"Where's Caspian?"

"Dealing with the last two." He jerked his head toward the stairs. "Come on. We need to move before reinforcements arrive."

"I'm not leaving without--"

"He sent me to get you. Now move."

I followed him up the stairs, my legs barely cooperating, the venom still making everything feel too intense.

The warehouse floor was a massacre.

Bodies everywhere. Blood pooling on concrete. Weapons scattered like toys. The smell hit me, copper and gunpowder and death.

I counted seven bodies.

"Marcus sent ten," David said, reading my expression. "Caspian's handling the other three."

"Where?"

He pointed to a side room, the door hanging off its hinges.

The bond pulled me toward it like a physical leash. I stumbled across the warehouse floor, stepping over bodies, trying not to look at their faces.

The side room was worse.

Two bodies on the floor, throats torn out. And Caspian, standing over a third male who was on his knees, begging.

"Please," the hunter gasped. "Marcus forced me. I didn't want--"

"Everyone has a choice." Caspian's voice was dead calm, but I could feel his rage through the bond. "You chose money over morals. Chose to hunt my mate. Now you get to live with that choice. For about thirty more seconds."

"Wait... "

I saw Caspian's hand move. Heard the wet crack of a neck breaking. Watched the body drop.

He turned, and his silver eyes locked on me.

Blood covered his chest, his hands, his face. Some of it was his, I could see a deep gash across his ribs, another on his thigh. But most of it belonged to other people.

"You should be in the safe room," he said.

"I felt you get hurt."

"The bond." He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand. "You'll feel everything for the first few days until you learn to filter it. Pain. Pleasure. Hunger. All of it."

"You're bleeding."

"I'm healing." He crossed to me, leaving bloody footprints. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" I stared at him. "You just killed ten people and you're asking if I'm okay?"

"Technically David killed three of them." He cupped my face with blood-slick hands. "But yes. You're what matters. The rest is just cleanup."

Through the bond, I felt his absolute certainty. His complete lack of remorse. These males had threatened me, so he'd killed them. Simple as that.

"We need to go," David called from the main floor. "I'm getting chatter on police scanners. Someone heard the gunshots."

"Right." Caspian grabbed my hand and pulled me back through the warehouse.

David had pulled the motorcycle around to a side exit. "Safe house is forty minutes north. I'll handle cleanup here and meet you tomorrow."

"You sure?" Caspian asked.

"I'm sure. Now go. Before I have to kill cops too."

Caspian swung onto the bike. I got on behind him, my body still weak from the venom, my mind reeling from everything I'd just witnessed.

We rode in silence through dark streets, heading away from the city. The night air was cold against my skin, but Caspian's body was warm against my front.

The bond pulsed between us with every heartbeat.

He killed ten people for me.

Would kill more.

Had promised to burn the world down to keep me safe.

And I'd let him claim me. Let him mark me. Let him make me his forever.

What did that make me?

"Stop thinking so loud," Caspian said over the engine noise. "I can feel your spiral through the bond."

"I can't help it. You just... they're dead. All of them. Because of me."

"Because of Marcus," he corrected. "He sent them. He put the bounty on your head. This is his doing, not yours."

"But if I hadn't--"

"If you hadn't what? Existed? That's not how this works, Rielle." He gunned the engine, taking a turn too fast. "You don't get to feel guilty for other people's choices. Marcus chose greed. The hunters chose money. I chose to protect what's mine. None of that is on you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

"It will. Eventually." His hand found my thigh, squeezed once. "The bond will help. You'll start feeling what I feel. Understanding why I do what I do. Give it time."

We rode for another thirty minutes before pulling off onto an unmarked dirt road. Trees pressed close, blocking out the moonlight, creating a tunnel of darkness.

The safe house appeared, a cabin that looked abandoned but felt watched. Security cameras hidden in trees. Motion sensors buried in the ground. More defenses I probably couldn't see.

Caspian parked the bike and helped me off.

My legs gave out immediately.

He caught me, swept me into his arms. "Venom's still hitting you hard."

"How long does it last?"

"Another few hours. Then you'll crash. Sleep for twelve hours straight while your body finishes integrating the changes." He carried me to the door, which opened with a palm scan. "After that, you'll be stronger. Faster. Heal quicker. All the perks of being bonded to a lycan."

Inside, the cabin was nothing like the exterior suggested. Modern. Clean. Fully stocked with weapons, food, medical supplies.

Caspian carried me to the bedroom and set me on the bed.

"Stay here," he said. "I need to clean up and check the perimeter."

"Wait." I grabbed his hand. "That wound on your ribs- "

"Is already healing." But he sat on the edge of the bed anyway. "See? Barely bleeding now."

He was right. The gash that had been deep enough to see bone was already closing, skin knitting back together with supernatural speed.

"That's not normal," I breathed.

"That's lycan." He pressed my hand over the wound. "Feel it. Your body will do the same now. The bond shares more than emotions. It shares physical traits. Healing. Strength. Longevity."

"Longevity?"

"Lycans live a long time, Rielle. Centuries if we're lucky. And now..." His eyes met mine. "...so will you. The bond extends your lifespan to match mine. Keeps us together. Forever."

The word hung between us.

Forever.

With this male I'd known for less than six hours. This male who'd killed for me. Claimed me. Changed my biology.

"I know it's a lot," Caspian said quietly. "And I know I didn't give you time to process. But Marcus wasn't going to wait. The hunters weren't going to wait. I had to act fast or lose you."

"And if I hate you for it?"

"Then you hate me." His hand covered mine over his healing wound. "But you're alive. Safe. Mine. And I can live with your hatred as long as you're breathing."

Through the bond, I felt the truth of it. He'd rather have me alive and hating him than dead and mourned.

It should have terrified me.

Instead, something in my chest loosened.

"I don't hate you," I admitted.

"No?" His thumb traced my knuckles. "What do you feel?"

"Confused. Overwhelmed. Terrified." I paused. "And safe. For the first time in years. I feel safe."

His expression softened. "Good. That's all that matters."

He leaned forward and kissed me, gentle this time, not the brutal claiming from before. Just a soft press of lips that somehow felt more intimate than everything that had come before.

When he pulled back, both of us were breathing harder.

"Shower," he said roughly. "Both of us. You smell like fear and venom, and I smell like a slaughterhouse."

He helped me to the bathroom, started the shower, peeled off my borrowed clothes with surprising gentleness.

Then his own clothes.

We stood under the hot water together, and he washed the blood from my skin, the tears from my face, the fear from my trembling hands.

"I've got you," he murmured against my wet hair. "No matter what comes next. I've got you."

And standing there, naked and claimed and bonded to a monster who'd killed for me...

I believed him.

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