Chapter 53
Author’s POV
Inside the auction hall , the atmosphere was electric.
+8 Pearls
A massive screen projected the blueprint and development plan of the East Ridge territory–land that had become the centerpiece of tonight’s bidding war. The crowd leaned in, eyes blazing with ambition.
The auctioneer’s voice rang out clearly, “Up next, we present the most anticipated item of the evening–the East Ridge territory. Located near Moonshade Bay, this land boasts exceptional spiritual energy and strategic significance. Starting price 10 billion lunar stones. Each raise must be no less than 100 million.”
Whispers turned into murmurs, and murmurs into tension–soaked silence.
Everyone knew: securing this land meant controlling the beating heart of East Haven’s future.
Kael Vale, heir to the Ebonclaw Pack, was the first to raise his paddle. “Ten point five billion, ” he announced with calm authority.
Representing the Vale family. Kael had been sent with a clear directive from Alpha Alaric: win this auction, at all costs.
Before his voice had even faded, Ronan Duskcliff, the brooding heir of another powerful Blackclaw, raised the stakes . “Eleven
billion . ”
With two Alphas–in–waiting taking the lead, the crowd’s blood heated. Paddles flew up like war banners, each bid more aggressive than the last.
But as the numbers climbed past 20 billion, smaller families and corporations began bowing out, resigned to watching the
titans clash.
Then, just as the bidding showed signs of slowing, a voice rang out from the front.
Thirty billion,” said a man with calm detachment , holding up his paddle.
Gasps rippled through the room.
It was Lucien Duskgrave’s assistant–Stormridge Pack’s right hand beta, speaking on behalf of the enigmatic and feared Northern Alpha heir.
Lucien himself sat relaxed in the front row, draped in a tailored steel–grey suit that clung to his broad shoulders like it had been woven for a god. His silver eyes were unreadable, his presence a cold and commanding as the northern snows he
hailed from.
The Ebonclaw Pack looked stricken.
They’d expected the Stormridge Pack to show strength–but this was annihilation.
Everyone else had raised their bids in cautious millions or single billions. Stormridge raised it by ten.
Karl’s face darkened. He leaned toward Ronan , voice low . “We’ll need to combine resources.
Ronan gave a short, reluctant nod.
Karl stood and raised his paddle again. “ Thirty – five billion.”
He shot Lucioara defiant glance.
Lucien didn’t even spare him a look.
His asistant raised the paddle. “Forty–five billion .”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Karl’s knuckles whitened around the bidding paddle. “Fifty billion”
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Assistant: “Sixty”
Kael: “Sixty–five.”
Assistant: “Eighty”
Gasps erupted.
Ronan and Kael both stood up. Their stunned expressions were mirrored across the entire auction hall.
Eighty billion ?
Kael growled, “Lucien Duskgrave, are you insane?”
At last, Lucien turned his head slightly, his gaze as glacial as ever.
“Bid again ,” he said calmly.
It wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact.
Bid if you dare–but I won’t stop.
The sheer confidence in his tone sent a chill down Kael’s spine.
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Even united , Ebonclaw and Blackclaw’s war chests wouldn’t stretch beyond a hundred billion–not without crippling their packs financially.
Alpha Alaric sat like a stone statue in the back, lips pressed into a tight line. His fury was palpable, but his hands were tied.
Ronan, too, looked pale beneath his steady exterior. His pack had liquidated assets just to fund this one shot at expansion.
Kael gritted his teeth. “Eighty–five billion.”
The assistant didn’t even blink. “One hundred billion.”
Sience fell, absolute and final..
Kael and Ronan exchanged a long look–defeat written clearly on both their faces.
They had lost.
“One hundred billion once. One hundred billion twice. One hundred billion–sold!” the auctioneer called out, dropping the hammer with a thunderous clap.
Stormridge Pack had claimed the East Ridge.
Lucien Duskgrave sat hack, still as a mountain, not a flicker of emotion on his face.
Ebonclaw and Blackclaw could only simmer in their rage and humiliation.
The night belonged to the North.
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