Every couple of months we’d have a Howl, a gathering bringing all the packs of the Pacific Northwest together, and this Howl was probably one of the biggest I’d ever seen. There were stalls all around the clearing, pop-up bars, people selling various trinkets and different packs from Idaho, California, Oregon (apparently even some from New Mexico, but that felt like nothing more than a rumor) all getting to know one another.

I was off to one side with my mom, watching them all interact with each other. They were overly familiar, as far as I was concerned. A step just beyond civil and friendly that made my chest feel a little tight. The Eastwind Pack were pretty dominant here, I could pick them out a mile off. They made everyone feel comfortable, everyone except Lakeshore; though not for lack of trying.

My pack was Lakeshore. They were off to one side, keeping to themselves, nursing their drinks as the evening passed by. We normally traded at these types of things but a lot of our pack were injured after an attack. We think it was humans. Someone tipped them off on our location and before we knew it, we were ambushed. The medical bills were going to kill us if the humans didn’t first.

“Something on your mind?” Mom asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. It was a rare moment of contact between us and I had to resist the urge to flinch, it only would have upset her.

“No,” I said, softly, not able to stop my voice from shaking. “Everything’s fine, I was just…I was thinking.”

“Not having second thoughts?”

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. I can’t afford to have second thoughts. None of us can.

It was loud and, what with it being a night for celebration, many were in full fur, men and women posing around possibly trying to attract a new mate. I had decided against it for tonight, wanting people to see the real me if they were about to bid. That was the advantage of this one not being at a full moon, if it were a full moon I would have no choice. Though there was a waxing moon tonight and it tingled nicely on my skin.

But there was always a lot more to a Howl than met the eye. If you were naïve you’d be forgiven for thinking that it was just a gathering, just a bunch of people hanging out and getting to know one another, but this was the ultimate trading post. They would trade supplies, trade gossip and tactics about tensions in their regions between humans and werewolf kind and, most of all, they would trade members.

There were often people who were willing to switch packs, either because of tensions in their own or because they wanted a change of scene. We were all friendly with each other so it wasn’t a big deal. The only thing that really mattered was the price. Someone needed to want you in order for you to go. I needed someone to want me.

On a nearby stage there was an auction happening. That was the reason we’d come here today, Mom and I. I watched as a gorgeous female wolf strutted around on the stage, practically dancing for the waiting crowd. They were completely captivated, bidding madly to have her come and join their pack.

That’s one way to find a new mate, I shrugged.

But then I listened to what she had to offer and it wasn’t a new mate she was looking for, just a new pack. She was a warrior. She picked up two blades that were waiting at the back of the stage and started twirling them around. The auctioneer, a gray wolf with sparkling orange eyes, brought out a wooden figure that she started attacking almost immediately. She tore it to shreds and the bids went wild.

I liked to think that everyone had a story when it came to putting themselves up for auction. It was never usually as cut and dry as wanting to switch packs. She would have a story, for sure.

I was certain that I would get snapped up pretty quickly. I’d always been able to get by on my looks, if I was totally honest. A flutter of eyelashes here, a little bit of flirting there and I could normally get what I wanted, whether that be getting out of detention when I was in high school or convincing some loveable nerd to do my homework for me.

That and I knew what problem werewolves were having at the moment with finding fertile mates. It was just a rumor, something I’d heard a few people talking about a few Howls ago, but werewolves were being slaughtered, presumably by humans, and fertile mates were in short supply. For my entire life, people in my pack knew I was a fertile omega, which meant I was the one left taking care of pups. I mean, I was good at it, I was paternal and they bonded with me quite easily, but knowing what a valuable commodity I was in the current climate gave me pause.

I’d approached Mom a few weeks ago, when the date and location of the next Howl had been announced. It was hard to tell whether she’d been caught off guard by what I had to say, or if she didn’t actually care at all. It was sort of like talking to a wall sometimes with Mom. I was used to it. I thought she’d put up some kind of fight when I told her that I wanted to leave Lakeshore behind as a way of paying for the medical bills of the injured members of our pack. She’d all but shrugged the whole thing off. But I couldn’t let it hurt me. That was just Mom.

The female werewolf found her highest bidder and sauntered off the stage to join the rest of her pack, which turned out to be another group of women with a similarly strong build, all carrying weapons. They immediately wrapped her in a hug, so familiar, so loving to someone they had known for all of three seconds. But maybe this was her story. She was a warrior who was underappreciated in her own pack so went to find a new one. Perhaps she had her eye on this female band of warriors the entire time and this had been her plan.

I allowed myself a flicker of a smile. I hoped she would be happy. I hoped it would all be worth it for her. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. I tried to push them down but I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. I took a deep breath but couldn’t steady myself. I didn’t know what would happen when I got called up, I didn’t know how the crowd would react. This had to work.

I knew that I was next to be called up so I downed the rest of my drink (water, it felt right to keep my wits about me) and started over towards the edge of the stage. Mom followed close behind.

Despite her fur, Mom was wearing a black shawl over her shoulders, occasionally dabbing her eyes with a corner of it. The spectacle she was putting on was drawing more attention than the auction.

“Next up,” the auctioneer announced, reading from a small card. “We have what will probably be one of our most popular offerings of the night. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage Owen Smith!”

The crowd erupted into a cheer, some of them turning their gaze to Mom and me, stood by the steps. This would likely be the last time I saw her, maybe forever. I turned to look at her and she just looked as if she was staring straight through me.

“Oh, Owen.” She shuffled forward and hugged me, but I struggled to hug her back. The stiffness of her, the way she kept a distance between us even though she was supposed to be hugging me made my stomach turn. “I’ll miss you,” she said, her voice completely deadpan.

She pulled out of the hug and looked straight at me. I didn’t buy a word of what she was saying. I didn’t believe she would miss me, I didn’t believe she would really give me a second thought. I would be out from under her feet and, as far as she was concerned, that was enough. It had all been so cold with her since Dad died. And, worse than that, the rest of the pack seemed to act the exact same way. Distant. Cold. I’d always thought we’d been different as a family. When Dad was alive we were happy and warm with each other. Now it was the total opposite. We were just like everyone else.

“I’ll miss you too, Mom,” I replied because I knew it was the correct thing to say, because I knew there were people watching our every move.

“Come on, Owen, don’t be shy,” the auctioneer said, a broad smile stretching across his face.

I turned away from Mom, trying to be outwardly confident and show myself off, but my shaking legs betrayed me as I stepped out onto the stage and walked towards the auctioneer. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. There were a lot of eyes on me, a lot of people taking me in, deciding if I was worth their time.

“Now, Owen Smith is from the Lakeshore pack and is looking to make a transfer to greener pastures,” he made it sound like it was a gameshow, like I was some prize to be won. “He’s 24 years old, so nice and young, and–” The auctioneer cut himself off, giving away the fact that he hadn’t looked at these cards beforehand. “Well, goodness me. And Owen is a fertile omega.”

A murmur rushed through the crowd and suddenly the bids were flying in from all sides, so fast I could barely keep track of them. The auctioneer was doing a much better job of keeping control of things, every now and then announcing what had been offered.

“That’s two thousand dollars, do I hear two thousand, five hundred?” He looked around for a bidder. “That’s two thousand, five hundred, do I hear three?”

This would do it, this would solve the problems of my pack. I would likely be used and be pumping out pups like you wouldn’t believe but at least my pack would be safe, Aldo and Nikki, my two childhood friends who got injured, they would be well, the pups who I had to leave behind would have their families back, and no one would have to panic about money for hospital bills, at least not for a little while.

I turned to Mom, not knowing what I was expecting to see, not really, but she was stood with her shawl pulled tightly around her, her mouth fixed into a thin line that told me absolutely nothing. Did she even care? Did she know that I was doing this for her as much as I was for everyone else?

I turned back to the crowd, many of them still in a frenzy. It had grown since I had looked away, other members of other packs joining in and offering to put up more money. The auctioneer’s eyes were bulging, no doubt working out how much he would be being paid in commission for this.

“Five thousand, do I hear any more than five thousand?”

“Twenty thousand dollars,” a voice boomed from somewhere near the back. The crowd “oohed” and parted to reveal a man who quite literally made my jaw drop and my heart skip.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whispered. I didn’t know whether I was reacting to the money or the fact that this incredibly beautiful man was now staring directly at me.

His hair was buzzed short on the sides, a small amount of dark brown hair left on top that was styled into an “I woke up like this” sort of bedhead, and his eyes were piercing, even at this distance. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

He was wearing a black short sleeved tee shirt, his biceps bulging out of the sleeves, a tribal looking tattoo snaking up his right arm and disappearing beneath the fabric, and a pair of black jeans, so tight I could see the muscles in his legs rippling as he walked.

Shit.

He was walking towards the stage.

My mouth went dry.

I reconfigured my face into a look of aloof indifference as he approached, trying not to drool, trying to not let my eyes keep flicking to him but flick they did. Holy hell, he was gorgeous.

He stepped up onto the stage, the auctioneer stood between us. He was tall too, taller than me and something about that made my legs feel weak. He looked like he would take care of me, even if I was going to be used as a way of increasing their pack numbers.

He smiled at me. And it was so unexpected I found myself smiling back, almost in spite of myself.

The auctioneer cleared his throat next to me.

I turned and he looked at me as if to say “Well?”

I nodded.

“SOLD!”