24. Mira

24

MIRA

M y heart pounds against my ribs as I weave through the crowded marketplace on the outskirts of the city. The dense press of bodies offers brief cover, but I catch glimpses of gray-brown skin and dark horns moving in parallel paths through the crowd.

I duck down a narrow alley between two crumbling buildings. The shadows lengthen as the red sky darkens overhead. Wrong choice. Dead end.

"Did you really think you could hide from me forever?"

That velvet voice freezes my blood. I spin around to face him.

Valek Duskfire stands at the alley entrance, his elaborate braids catching the dying light. Golden threads and tiny bells woven through his hair chime with each graceful step he takes toward me. His golden eyes fix on mine, vertical pupils contracting to thin slits.

"I don't belong to you anymore." My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

His lips curve into an indulgent smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Everything in my collection belongs to me. Always." He gestures to the brand on my wrist. "Or have you forgotten whose mark you wear?"

"That mark means nothing. I'm free now."

"Free?" He laughs, the sound rich and cruel. "You're as free as a painting that's walked out of its frame. I simply need to put you back where you belong."

I back away until I hit the wall. Two more demons block the alley entrance behind Valek, their massive forms casting long shadows.

"Your northern friends can't protect you here." Valek's perfectly manicured fingers trace the ritual scars on his hands - ancient patterns I remember all too well. "It's time for you to fix what you've done."

I press myself against the rough stone wall, heart hammering. His golden eyes bore into mine as he closes the distance between us, each soft chime of his hair ornaments marking another step closer to my capture.

"You were such a perfect addition to my collection." Valek trails a finger down my cheek. I jerk away from his touch. "But now? The time and resources spent hunting you down have exceeded your value."

My stomach drops at the cold calculation in his voice. This isn't the possessive collector I remember - this is something worse.

"Perhaps I can still salvage something from this investment." He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "The slave markets always need fresh merchandise. I hear there's quite the demand for educated humans these days."

I slam my knee up, but he catches my leg before I make contact. His fingers dig into my thigh, claws pricking through the fabric of my dress.

"Oh you've got that delightful spirit back. The buyers will enjoy breaking that. Just like I did." Horrid memories wash over me at those words, sending my body shaking. He shoves me backward into the waiting arms of his guards. "Take her to the auction grounds. And do try not to damage her too badly - I'd like to recoup at least some of my losses."

The demons' rough hands clamp around my arms like stone bands. I thrash and kick as they drag me from the alley, my feet barely touching the ground. They take my bag, too, and I lose all my leverage with it.

"Let me go!" I drive my heel into one guard's knee. He grunts but doesn't loosen his grip.

"Keep fighting, pretty thing." Valek's voice floats after us, those cursed bells in his hair chiming with each step. I forgot how the sound made me nauseous. "It will only drive up the bidding."

We emerge onto a dirt road leading away from the city. My struggles grow more desperate as I spot the auction grounds ahead - rows of wooden holding pens packed with miserable figures awaiting sale.

"No!" I twist and writhe, not caring about the bruises forming under the demons' grip. "I won't go back to being property!"

One guard cuffs me across the face. "Shut up, human."

Blood fills my mouth but I keep fighting, kicking up clouds of dust as they haul me toward the pens. The red sky seems to mock my efforts, painting everything in the color of fresh wounds.

I don't get away. Instead, rough hands shove me into a dimly lit tent. Two women - human, but with the dead-eyed stare of long-time slaves - strip my clothes without ceremony.

"Arms up," one barks when I resist.

"Please, I-" A sharp slap cuts off my words.

"Quiet. Master Valek wants you presentable."

They force me into a gauzy dress with fabric so thin it might as well be air. My skin prickles in the cool evening breeze that cuts through the tent walls.

"Hold still." The second woman drags a brush through my dark hair, yanking out the tangles. "Though I doubt they'll care much about your hair when they can see everything else."

They paint my lips red, line my eyes with kohl. Every touch makes my skin crawl. I'm being packaged, prepared like meat for market.

Through the tent walls, I hear Valek's distinctive voice, the soft chime of his hair ornaments carrying clearly.

"...quite the prize. Not only educated, but she spent months living among the northern demons. Specifically, with that metalworker everyone's so curious about."

"The one making those peculiar trinkets?" A new voice, oily and eager. "How fascinating. And you say she's unmarked besides your brand?"

"Pristine condition. Though she's developed some... unfortunate habits during her time away. Nothing a firm hand won't correct."

The second voice chuckles. "I do enjoy a challenge. My clients pay well for unique specimens. And one with insider knowledge of northern demon crafting? That's quite valuable."

"I thought you'd appreciate that particular detail." The bells in Valek's hair chime as he moves. "Shall we discuss terms?"

Their voices fade as they walk away. I wrap my arms around myself, the thin fabric offering no protection from their calculating words or the growing chill.

One of the women catches my defensive posture and snorts. "Save your modesty, girl. Where you're going, you won't need it."

Soon someone comes to collect me and I'm forced to walk through a crowd as demons leer at me. The setting sun paints everything in shades of blood, turning the wooden auction block into a looming shadow against the crimson sky.

"Next up, a rare opportunity!" The auctioneer's voice booms across the grounds. "An educated human female, previously part of an elite collection!"

My bare feet scrape against splintered wood as they force me onto the platform. The gauzy dress offers no protection from the hundreds of hungry eyes below.

"Note the quality of her features, the grace of her movements! Trained in the arts, literature, and..." He pauses for effect. "Recently acquired valuable information about northern demon crafting techniques!"

The crowd murmurs with interest. My throat tightens as I spot several wealthy merchants leaning forward, calculating my worth with cold eyes.

Karn warned me about this part of the city. "Stay close to the shop," he'd growled that morning, his violet eyes dark with concern. "The southern quarter isn't safe."

But I'd been so sure I could handle a quick trip to the market. So convinced that my months of freedom had made me strong enough, smart enough to avoid capture.

"Starting bid at five thousand nodals!"

The auctioneer's voice jolts me back to the present. Hands grab my arms, turning me like a doll for the crowd's inspection. My hair falls forward, hiding my face - my one small act of defiance.

"Look at them," the guard hisses, yanking my head back by my hair. "Show them that pretty face Master Valek invested so much in."

Karn would have torn these men apart for touching me like this. The thought of his protective fury makes my chest ache. He offered me shelter, safety, a chance at a real life - and I threw it away because I couldn't trust that someone might actually want to help me without ulterior motives.

"Ten thousand!"

"Twelve!"

The bids rise as tears blur my vision. I wish that Karn was here. But my stubborn pride may have just cost me my freedom forever.