7. Meera

This is it.

I feel fear of the unknown wind through my body, coursing through my veins and making my mind go numb. The caravan is still moving slowly over the stone path but the chatter of our captors is becoming increasingly excited, only matched by the excitement of their surroundings.

I assume we're in the trading hub—it's long after sunset but there is still an audible buzz and the sound of wares being traded.

In the distance, I hear a merchant and customer quarrel over an unfairly steep price that even the gods wouldn't afford. Their argument is drowned out by a young musician enthusiastically playing her liya, much to the joy of listeners.

The smell of various spices, herbs, and perfumes clash and mix together. It all threatens to overwhelm my senses. I close my eyes and focus on trying to spot landmarks. The darkness makes it impossible.

I no longer cling to my cage, mercifully not forced by the dreaded shake and rattle of the caravan to hold on for dear life.

In fact, the ride is surprisingly smooth despite the thick crowd in the streets that hurriedly moves out of our way.

We're nearing our final destination.

No. I can't just give in and up like that. I will find a way to escape, even if I lose limbs doing so.

We come to a full stop in a dark back alley and the xaphan don themselves in hoods hiding their faces.

I don't have time to wonder about their curious behavior—I'm plucked from my cage by rough and uncaring hands. I bite back the seething insults spinning on the tip of my tongue.

The other women are silent as well, they know that putting up a fight will only serve to irritate the xaphan brutes.

Why so on edge, you bastards? Is it maybe because selling people isn't the morally okay thing to do even here?

"Shut your mouths and try to look pretty now, little human." A putrid smell wafts over my neck as one of the guards hovers over me to whisper in my ear.

I do my best to hold back the shiver of disgust washing over me but can't hide the repulsion from my face.

He grins, teeth brown and yellow, his thick tongue licking lips that are cracked and caked with grime.

"That attitude will earn you many beatings. I hope you're bought by a demon with a love for human screams."

We're ushered into a dark holding room and the alarm I feel is reflected on the pale faces of the other women.

Abigail is still clutching her wrist, though it seems to have stopped bleeding.

Snickers and pointed fingers lead my attention to the guards, who are openly leering at us.

"I think that one will fetch a decent price. She's got just the look these fucking demons want."

My stomach drops when his eyes meet mine, and I nearly let out an audible sigh when it darts to a woman behind me.

I glance at her. She has long black hair that still manages to shine somewhat despite her journey so far. Bright green eyes hide under thick lashes as she shyly looks away, holding herself tightly.

Filthy assholes. It's the obvious terror they find interesting in her.

One of the guards walks over to me, his nose turned up in revulsion. "This creature will be lucky if she's even bought. No one likes a slave that deems itself an equal."

His gigantic, filthy hand runs along my waist, his eyes traveling down my body. I feel like I want to throw up, but I steel myself and hold my head high, my back straight.

Repulsive fuck, you'll never see me grovel in fear.

His eyes travel up and down my body several times and he doesn't even try to hide what he's thinking. "Even the toughest animal can be tamed with the right methods." He chuckles at his own joke and I look away, refusing to entertain him.

Turned off by my defiance, the guard loses interest and walks back to his buddies. They continue to laugh and joke about who will fetch the highest bids.

Abigail whispers next to me, her voice shaky with distress. "They're not able to bid on us, right?"

I shake my head. "No. As far as I understand, we're up for bid by demons." I don't add that our fates aren't that much rosier with our potential future masters, but I don't have to. She understands.

Her face visibly droops and she sucks her lower lip. "Oh. Well, that sounds awesome."

"Hey! Shut up!" The guard who whipped her earlier swiftly flicks his wrist, catching Abigail on her upper thigh with his weapon.

She grabs the spot and hisses in pain but keeps quiet. I want to console her but don't want to cause a bigger scene or give the guards more reason to complain about us.

To our right is a set of heavy, leathery curtains that separate our windowless room from another presumably bigger area.

The sound of animated conversations threatens to break through the material barrier. Our buyers are apparently eager to start bidding.

I clench my teeth. Not knowing what will happen once we're led out of this room sets me on edge.

As if triggered by my thoughts, a large guard smacks aside the heavy curtain and pulls one of the women out onto a brightly lit stage.

I peek beyond their figures and feel the blood drain from my face. Large, muscular horned men sit and discuss the woman on the stage. There are xaphans amongst that crowd, too.

While she's clearly dehydrated, starving, and afraid, they are dressed in fine clothes, eating scrumptious delicacies, and armed with weapons that stand taller than me.

Their skins, which range from ebony to pale white, shine in the pale green light cast by floating orbs that illuminate the bidding arena.

Horns thicker than my arms adorn their fearsome heads, while yellow and red eyes scan the shaking woman.

Although it's hard to tell from my position, I estimate that these demons are all at least eight feet tall.

Their boisterous laughter in this horrid situation adds to their menacing and imposing auras.

Next to the woman stands another demon, this one a pale yellow that reminds me of a toxic insect that populated a forest near my hometown. His horns are elaborate, all four of them curling back with an unexpected grace.

The demon is likely way more poisonous than any insect out there.

His voice echoes through the arena as he starts pitching the slave to the buyers.

"Don't mind the dirty hair, she's come a long way and just needs a good scrub!" He lifts her arm. "Look at that, not a bit of unnecessary fat on her."

She gasps as he yanks her face and forces her jaw open.

"The teeth are in good condition too. And she's got strong hands." The auctioneer lets her arm fall as if he couldn't stop touching her soon enough.

"Shall we start the bid at 50 nodals?"

One of the guards pulls the curtains back in place, obscuring my view. "You'll get your turn, just be patient." He snarls at us, his eyes looking everywhere but our faces.

After this, the women are grabbed one by one to be auctioned off to the highest-bidding creature.

I can't believe this. Is this how my life will end? As the pathetic slave of a fucking demon?

The whites of my knuckles are visible, my fists tight as if to hold on to the emotions swirling inside me.

I take a deep breath.

Don't let these bastards rile you up. Don't let them see that you're scared. Let them think they have no effect on you.

I listen as the women are given monetary value amidst chuckles and lewd comments from the auctioneer. I'm starting to really dislike that demon in particular.

When it's the shy dark-haired woman's turn, he has an especially good time describing the value she could offer her new owner.

I can't see what's happening, but judging by the loud cheers, the poor woman's probably being paraded like prized livestock at a market.

A familiar stench invades my senses and I feel an eager hand grope my ass. I can hear the smirk in the xaphan guard's voice when he speaks right next to my ear. "No one can save you now. You're fucked."

The unfairness of the situation makes my skin crawl. My hunger, thirst, anger, and every other emotion I've been suppressing so far bubble up and I swirl around.

"Don't you ever touch me like that again." I hold his glare, not afraid of how he may react.

The guard responds by growling and shoving me onto the stage. Quick to recover, the auctioneer grabs me by the wrist. Shocked by the brutal strength behind such a simple act, I'm not even able to try and resist.

I see Abigail's scared face for only a second before the curtain falls, isolating me from her and the other women.

Unceremoniously pulled to the center of the stage, I feel my face heat up under the scrutinizing gazes on me. I try to adjust the scraps I'm wearing so less of my body shows.

The auctioneer notices and grabs my shirt, lifting it enough to show the lower part of my breasts. "A healthy specimen on the stage right now! If I were one of you, I'd put my money where my mouth is!"

I try to cover myself with my arms, and the demon quickly grabs them, yanking me by my wrists so my arms are above my head.

"Oooh, and strong too…for a human girl."

He effortlessly twirls me around to give the gawking demons a good look at my body from every angle.

Scowling, I study his expression. He really is having fun bidding off stolen women to who knows what kind of terrible fate.

Loathsome shithead.

My glare travels from the auctioneer to the crowd of delighted demons and xaphans. I face the shouting bidders, my fate unknown but my resolve to never show weakness is as strong as ever.