No. No, no,no.
The other bidders were just wealthy Lactari looking for livestock. But this woman, the way she looks at me isn't like I'm food.
It's like she's seeing something she wants topossess.
My anger boils. I bare my teeth at her as two handlers approach to lead me off the block. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
One corner of her mouth lifts in what might be amusement. Might be. It's hard to tell with that stone-cold expression.
"You don't have a choice," she simply says.
The handlers grab my arms. I thrash against them, not caring the shackles cut deeper into my wrists. "Fuck you! I'm not your?—"
Pain explodes across my face as one handler backhands me. My head snaps to the side, blood filling my mouth. I spit it onto the auction house floor; red sprays across the pristine white marble.
"Enough." Primsyn's voice cuts through the chaos. She's there, much closer than before, and I can smell her, clean and crisp, like cold water and stone. "Release him to me. Now."
The handlers look uncertain but obey, shoving me forward. I stumble, catching myself before I fall, and glare up at her. We're nearly eye to eye, just inches apart.
Her silver eyes study me with such intensity my gut twists. Not with fear but with something I absolutely refuse to acknowledge.
"You're bleeding," she observes, her gaze dropping to my split lip.
"Good," I snap. "Hope you're not squeamish about damaged goods."
That almost-smile appears again. "Oh, I don't think you're damaged." She reaches out slowly, giving me time to see it coming, and cups my jaw. Her fingers are cool against my heated skin. "Defiant, certainly. Foolish, perhaps. But not damaged."
I jerk my head away from her touch. "Don't touch me."
"I own you," she says matter-of-factly, like she's commenting on the weather. "I'll touch you whenever and however I please. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."
"Go to hell."
"Perhaps." She turns away, addressing the handlers without sparing me another glance. "Bring him to my carriage. Carefully. If I find any more marks on him, you'll answer to me personally."
The handlers pale, their grayish skin going nearly white, and immediately move with more care as they guide me toward the exit.
I stumble along, mind racing. The auction house opens into a covered courtyard where expensive carriages wait in orderly rows. I’m led to a sleek black one, with a craftsmanship that screams wealth. A Lactari servant opens the door for us.
"Inside," a handler grunts, shoving me toward the transport.
I plant my feet. "No."
This time, both handlers move to force me, but Primsyn raises one hand. They freeze in unison.
She turns those silver eyes back to me. "You can walk in on your own, or you can be carried. Either way, you're coming to my household. Choose quickly; I have little patience for theatrics."
My jaw works as I grind my teeth together. Every instinct screams at me to fight, to run. But I'm shackled and standing in the middle of their territory. Even if I get away, where would I go? I don't know this city. Don't know where other humans might be hiding.
Not yet,I tell myself.Wait for a better opportunity.
I climb into the vehicle, moving stiffly. The interior is as luxurious as expected: soft seating, dim lighting, more space than any one person needs. Primsyn enters after me, settling across from me with perfect posture.
The door closes and we move.
I'm trapped alone with my new owner.
We sit in silence for several long minutes. I keep my gaze fixed on the window, watching the city pass by—tall buildings of dark stone, streets lit by pale blue lights, Lactari going about their evening. But no humans visible anywhere.
