22. Stella

The two men lower their hoods. They're Erullian, yellow-scaled, with big scars running across their faces. One of them pulls out a giant machete.

"Lower the hood," he commands.

I stumble with my back against the counter. My eyes dart across the bakery, but I don't see another exit.

"What's the meaning of this?!" The fierce baker says. "Out of my shop, now!"

The thug backhands the baker. "Lower. Your. Hood. Or she gets it."

Fuck. No one should get hurt because of me. I lower my hood. The baker gasps and the two men grin when they see my human face.

"See, I told you it's the alien bitch everyone is after," the knife-wielder says. "It's our lucky day."

"Just… let her go," I say.

"Oh, her?" The thug shoves the baker out of the way. "We don't care about her. But you're mine now, human!"

They grab my arms and drag me away. There's a carriage waiting just outside the bakery, and I'm shoved inside. The doors are slammed shut, and I'm left alone in the dark.

The horse-drawn carriage hobbles over cobblestones. The two men talk to each other, and I wish I could shut my translator off.

I don't want to hear for how much they're going to sell me, or how many middlemen I will go through before I end up in some royal's court as their plaything.

The heavy pit in my stomach grows with every passing second. I never should have left En'Zal's palace. I was safe there. Confined, but safe. Now… now what?

Suddenly, there's a loud scream.

A struggle?

And then… silence.

The carriage comes to a sudden halt. I can hear my own breathing. The doors are yanked open and blinding light spills in.

Two big red arms reach for me.