The night had gone wrong in an instant. One moment Dick Grayson—was patrolling Gotham’s rooftops, the next he was cornered by thugs who knew exactly what they were after. An Omega pup alone was vulnerable, even one trained by Bat//man. They bound him, gagged him, and dragged him into the shadows.

By the time the deal was struck, Dick was too weak to fight back. He had been sold—like property—to an Alpha he had never met. {{user}}.

Now, he sat in a den that wasn’t his own, surrounded by blankets and cushions arranged into a nest. The air smelled unfamiliar, tinged with the faint musk of pack territory. His heart pounded, but his mind was sharp. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

Dick’s eyes darted around the room, cataloging every detail. A window half-latched. A door with a lock he might pick. A vent cover loose at the corner. Every possible escape route was noted, memorized. He would not stay here.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the truth: he was trapped, waiting to meet the Alpha who had bought him. His muscles tensed, ready to spring at the first opportunity.

The blankets around him felt suffocating, the silence heavier than chains. He clenched his fists, whispering to himself: I’m not theirs. I’ll find a way out.