“Enough,” ordered the second man. He stepped into the room, towering over the wiry one. His face was set in a scowl so severe it looked carved from stone.
“Boss said no trouble,” the taller man added as his gaze flicked to Cora’s wrists.
“Trouble?” the first man repeated, laughing. “This little thing? She’s not going anywhere.”
Cora didn’t wait for them to decide her next move. She yanked hard against the ropes, ignoring the pain and the trickle of blood that followed.
“Look at her go,” the first one taunted. “What’s the plan, sweetheart? You think you’re getting out of this?”
She didn’t answer. She just glared at him with so much hatred that it made her skin burn.
The taller man sighed and gestured toward her. “Enough. Get her up. Boss wants her on stage.”
“Stage?” Cora’s heart skipped. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The wiry man grabbed her arm, yanking her upright. She twisted violently, kicking out with her legs. Her bare foot connected with his shin, and he hissed as he released her to grab at the injury.
“Damn it!” he snarled. “Hold still, you little—”
“Move,” the taller man interrupted, shoving the wiry one aside. He gripped her wrists with hands like iron, hauling her to her feet as if she weighed nothing.
“Let me go!” Cora shouted.
Neither man responded. They dragged her toward the door with her feet skidding across the floorboards.
“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” the taller man muttered.
“Good,” Cora spat, jerking her arms in a futile attempt to free herself.
The hallway beyond the door was oppressively narrow, the kind that made her shoulders tense instinctively as if the walls might close in. At the far end, flickering torchlight danced erratically, highlighting the warped wooden planks of the floor and the chipped, peeling walls.
“Buyers’ll love this one,” one of the men said, almost gleeful. “She’s got fire. That always gets the bids rolling.”
“You’ll regret this,” she spat at him.
He smirked. “If you say so, Princess.”
They rounded a corner, and distant voices roared as they entered a cavernous room with high ceilings that amplified the crowd's noise.
The space was packed with people. Some leaned against the walls, chatting casually as if they were at a market. Others clustered closer to the center, where a crude wooden stage rose above the crowd.
Cora’s heart raced as her captors dragged her closer to the platform. The stage loomed over her with wobbly planks that were stained with something dark she didn’t want to name.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”
The wiry man grinned. “Oh, yes. Welcome to the main event.”
She kicked out again, twisting and thrashing with all the strength she could muster. Her bare heel connected with the taller man’s knee this time, but he didn’t even flinch.
“Enough,” he growled, hauling her up the stairs.
The planks creaked under their combined weight, and each step sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through her. By the time they reached the top, Cora’s legs were trembling so badly she could barely stand.
“Stand up straight,” the taller man ordered, shoving her forward.
The crowd erupted into cheers as she stumbled onto the stage. Dozens of faces stared up at her, their expressions ranging from curious to predatory.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” a voice boomed, cutting through the noise.
