(Evra’s POV)
I thought everything would end after that night at the auction.
But turns out, hell had only just begun.
The air here is cold—but not the normal kind of cold.
It seeps into my bones, like it’s trying to remind me that I’m nothing, that I’m just something bought and now owned by its master.
The chains on my wrists have been removed, but the burn marks are still there. I can still smell the silver—sharp and bitter, like an old wound that never really healed.
Footsteps echoed down the long stone corridor.
Two wolf guards walked behind me in silence, but their aura was sharp—ready to devour me the second I tried to run.
Pointless anyway. There’s nowhere to go in a place like this.
That stone castle… it’s magnificent and terrifying all at once, like every wall has eyes.
I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. All I know is that every time I try to take a deep breath, my chest refuses. Something changed since last night—since that man’s gaze cut through me on the stage.
Magnus Rivenhall.
A name everyone whispers with fear and reverence.
I’ve heard it from the guards, from servants who tremble every time they say “Lord Magnus.” The owner of the supernatural banking empire. The ruler who can make entire races kneel with just his signature.
And now, me—a nobody, with no origin, no family name—standing inside his house.
“Enter.”
The guard’s deep voice pulled me back.
The giant door opened. The room inside was wide and dim, lit by a small fire in the hearth.
And there he was.
Magnus. Wearing a black suit, his jet-black hair slicked back neatly, and those eyes—burning like embers.
I froze at the doorway, unable to move.
For a moment, there was no sound. Only my heartbeat pounding in my ears—and somehow, it felt like it matched his.
Damn it. What’s happening to me?
“Sit,” he said shortly.
His tone was flat. His presence way too commanding. And it was enough to make me obey, even when I didn’t want to.
I sat on the wooden chair across from him, staring at the floor so I wouldn’t get pulled into those eyes again.
“Your name is Evra Lysander,” he said—more like a statement than a question.
I didn’t answer. My hands clutched the torn edge of my skirt, trying to stop the trembling in my fingers.
He exhaled slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you don’t try to fight.”
That should’ve been comforting, but it only made my skin crawl.
“I don’t care who you are,” he continued. “I just want to know… are you aware of what happened on that stage?”
I slowly lifted my head, meeting his eyes. “Which part, Sir? When you bought me like merchandise, or when everyone stared at me like I wasn’t even alive?”
Magnus’s gaze tensed. For the first time, something flickered behind that cold mask.
“I didn’t—”
“Didn’t mean to humiliate me?” I cut him off fast, my voice shaking but sharp. “They all say the same thing.”
Silence fell between us. The fire crackled, reflecting light across his now-darkened face.
I knew I should’ve shut up. I knew my place. But every time he looked at me, something inside me pushed back—something wild, burning, and unfamiliar.
Like… I knew him.
Like my body remembered something my mind didn’t.
Magnus stepped closer. One step. Two. Until the space between us vanished, and again, my heartbeat went wild.
There was a strange light in his eyes—not anger, not desire.
More like… recognition.
“I don’t know what you are,” he said quietly. “But ever since I saw you, nothing’s been the same.”
I bit my lower lip, holding my breath. Then the voice in my head started whispering again—soft but persistent, like an echo behind the fog.
“He’s calling you…”
I froze instantly and looked around in panic.
No. Not again. That same voice from the night before the auction—it was back, calling from somewhere inside me.
Magnus noticed the shift in my expression. He leaned closer, eyes locked on me, like he was trying to see through my skin.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
I gripped my knees tight, fighting off the cold suddenly crawling up my spine. “I don’t know… But since the night before I was taken, I’ve been hearing something.”
“A voice?”
I nodded slowly. “Like someone… calling my name.”
His gaze hardened. Then, without saying anything else, Magnus stood straight and walked toward the door.
“From tonight on, you’ll stay here. Don’t leave this room without permission,” he said flatly. “And Evra—”
I looked at his back as he walked away.
“If you hear that voice again,” he added, “don’t answerr.”
“Why?” I asked softly.
“Just do as I say if you want to stay alive.”
The door shut with a heavy thud.
I sat there for a long time, staring at the flickering fire.
“Wait… that wasn’t a wolf, was it? If it wasn’t a wolf, then who the hell was calling me?” I whispered to myself.
***