1. Olivia

Ididn't know how long I had been a prisoner in this strange land. I just remembered having that huge fight with my asshat of a boyfriend, him dumping me out of the car on the side of the road, then driving off. Having no other options, I limped down the road, my fire-engine red stiletto heels not suited for a long walk on a deserted road. And yes, the Eagles song about Hotel California was playing in my head the whole time, especially when the fog drifted in and I got disoriented. Then I got dizzy. The ground became uneven and difficult to walk on. Then I felt woozy and woke up in this weird renaissance faire land. Only, it wasn't make-believe, I hadn't bought a ticket, and I didn't think there was a way home. So much like the song.

I had been here several days at least. I had woken up in a wagon that was little more than a wooden box on wheels with a roof to keep out the sun, with a few openings in the wood to let the air in. The only light came from cracks in the wood and the small window in the back that was too small to fit through, and since there were three metal bars on the window, I was definitely not getting out that way.

The hay that was my current bed was scratchy and rough, and smelled like it had been out in the weather for a while and had gotten wet, with mold possibly growing in pockets in the recesses where I didn't want to look. My hands were bound in front of me and a chain trailed from my ankle to a bolt in the floor, my shoes nowhere to be found. That really pissed me off. They cost me a month's salary, not that my loser of a boyfriend helped pay for them, even though he loved me in them. Four-inch spiked heels. Fire-engine red leather. A killer to walk in, but he didn't like them on the ground. He was more into them on his shoulders or digging into his back. Right about now, if I saw the asshat, the heel would be digging into his balls.

Outside the wagon I could hear the creaking of wood and the clop of hooves in the dirt, the squeaking of the axles and wheels as they rolled along. The wagon wheels clunked as we rolled over the ground, the livestock that followed the weirdest parade of lowing and baaing. I was in a country version of Oklahoma and I wasn't happy about it at all. But hey, I didn't have to pay my rent or credit card bill for my shoes, so there was an upside. Maybe my asshat boyfriend would have to get a job or live in a box with his Xbox.

The wagon ride seemed to go on forever. I was exhausted and hungry and thirsty, but the man driving the wagon hadn't offered me anything except at night when we'd stop. He had been rough but hadn't tried anything with me. All he said was that I would fetch a good price at market as long as I was unspoiled. Did that mean I was food—or something worse? I didn't know what he meant exactly, but he was carrying hides and leading livestock and wouldn't answer any questions. But he didn't touch me, which was a huge relief, so maybe it would be okay.

Each evening he would let me out to stretch my aching and sore muscles after being cramped and bruised in the wooden wagon, the hay being little barrier to the hard floor. And the roads were rutted and full of potholes, which transmitted every bump since they hadn't heard of shock absorbers in this backward, god-forsaken place. I'd pee and do other stuff behind a bush, eat some stew with coarse bread, then back into the cart for more endless rocking.

The first few nights I tried talking to him. Well, I tried pleading to let me go, to bring me home. Then I tried bonding with him. Isn't that what you were supposed to do with your kidnapper? Create empathy so he wouldn't hurt you? He only grunted and told me to mind my mouth. I was going to the house no matter what. And I could do it with or without a gag. Judging by the filthy state of his clothes, I'd rather skip the gag, assuming it wouldn't be any cleaner than him. So I shut up.

After several days, we rattled up to what looked like a medieval village and all hope for escape turned to despair.

The village was surrounded by a stone wall, and a few guard towers with guards standing on them. The streets were dirt with a few muddy puddles. The buildings were low and square, with thatched straw roofs and wooden doors. The whole town looked like a decayed version of a medieval village, like one that you'd see in a picture book or on postcards or in a movie. The whole place felt like that, like you were in a movie and a director was telling you where to stand and what to do, that you couldn't talk or do anything but act, like you were in some fantasy world.

The village was shaded by a wall of forest, but there were some buildings beyond the tree line. It was early spring, the days not hot but still warm enough to not require a coat. The houses were a variety of shapes, sizes, and designs and were built of wood, stone, and clay. The roads were dirt, and most of the people were peasants in simple peasant clothing, but there were also soldiers in armor and noblemen in richly decorated clothing.

I had no hope of figuring out how I got here or where I had even come through from my world. Nor would I be able to find my way back, being hopeless with directions without a GPS. As I looked out from the bars, this was something out of a fantasy movie or a role playing game that my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend probably, used to play.

All manner of creatures walked through this town, not just humans. In fact, there were few humans. Large, strange creatures wandered the streets, the likes of which I had never seen except in those stupid video games or fantasy movies my boyfriend made me watch. I had no idea what to call some of these creatures, so I relied on what he called them. It terrified me, reinforcing that I was in a whole new world, and it might never change.

Green-skinned orcs with tusks jutting up from their lower jaws, strong, powerful looking, easily seven feet tall and bigger than any man I had ever seen. Dark-haired, fierce looking, with piercings through various body parts. They only wore trousers, more like shorts, leaving their chests bare, and a sword or other weapons arrayed on their body. The creatures of the town gave them a wide berth when the orcs walked by, with respect and a little fear.

Smaller creatures, somewhat misshapen and distorted, a lot smaller than me, though I was pretty tall, around five foot nine, which always irritated my boyfriend, especially when I wore the heels. These creatures, maybe goblins, had big bellies and spindly legs, and topped maybe five feet tall. They wore what looked like a toga. I didn't see weapons, but I was sure they had them. They scurried about, usually in groups.

Much larger gray-green creatures, even larger than the orcs, and ugly, reminded me of trolls or ogres. They were solitary, ugly and grumpy looking creatures, carrying large axes or clubs. I vowed to avoid them if possible.

Then there was another species I never thought I"d see outside of mythology books. Half man, half bull. A minotaur, that's what it was. Huge, fur on most of his body, massive, towering over most of the creatures, with a brace of axes crossed over his back.

Damn, I was in some weird-ass fairy tale, completely outside the realm of anything known. I was so screwed.

"Get out before I drag you out."

My savior and owner glared at me from the opening at the end of the wagon. He'd treated me kindly so far, but the bars on the wagon and the bindings on my wrists reminded me that I was still his prisoner. I slowly got to my feet and inched my way out of the wagon. He unlocked the foot shackle and dragged me out. I stood and briefly contemplated running. But in which direction? Before I could decide, he attached a length of rope to the chain between my wrists.

"In case you get any ideas," he growled.

I realized that the area had grown silent, and we'd drawn a crowd, most of the creatures I had noticed earlier. I was still wearing the small red dress my boyfriend had liked me to wear when I had gone missing, the one I had hoped to have fun dancing in. Now it attracted far too much attention from these creatures, despite being torn and dirty and smelling far too fragrant from not bathing. But it revealed more skin that I would like in front of these creatures and, while I had loved showing off my body at the club, I longed for a cloak or something to shield me from the hungry gazes pressing close.

My captor waved a club at the pressing crowd. "Get back, you bastards. Pay your dues at auction if you want another look."

He grabbed my upper arm, hard enough to leave prints, and hustled me through, liberally using the club to beat back anyone who got too close. He dragged me to one of the larger houses in the town that looked like an inn, maybe with a sign swinging over the door. I didn't get a chance to see what it said as he dragged me around the side to a smaller door.

He rapped on it three times and an older woman opened it, wearing a deep wine colored dress bordered in gold braid. She was older than me, probably in her forties, and attractive in a handsome way. She didn't seem surprised to see us there—almost as if she had been expecting us, or at least him. She stepped back and motioned for us to enter, then quickly shut the door behind us and barred it.

The woman led us down a hallway, past several closed doors, and into a larger room at the end. The room we entered was decorated with finely crafted furniture, velvet curtains, and expensive artwork hung on the walls. In the center of the room was a large table with a decanter and glasses on it. A roaring fire burned in the stone fireplace against the wall. The woman gestured to one of the chairs, and my captor settled heavily into the velvet-covered seat. The older woman remained standing, watching me. I wasn"t offered a seat or a removal of the manacles.

"Hadron. I didn't expect to see you. You almost missed our auction. What have you brought me this time?"

Her voice was brisk and her gaze assessing. I squirmed as the woman gave me an assessing look. "Found her in the forest on the border between our lands and the orc lands, Odelia."

Odelia took my chin in a surprisingly firm grip and tilted my head. "A very unique find, Hadron. A redhead. We haven't had one of them in a long time. Curvy, sturdy. Our bidders will be very pleased. Too bad you're coming in late. We could have driven up the entry fee considerably."

"Not my fault the roads were muddy after the rainy season. You could always keep her for the next auction. Drive up the price, Odelia," Hadron grumbled, glaring at me as if it were my fault that he was late coming in.

The woman gave a harsh laugh. "Not on your life. Not with the Orc King seeking all human women and not caring if they're in his domain or not. I don't want to be caught with any unmated humans. It's a death sentence, even if we're not on orc land."

Hadron grunted. "Fine. I'll take my cut and go."

"After the auction. It was good you paraded her a bit before you got here. Maybe more will come." She turned to me, not unkindly. "Come, girl. You need a bath and clean clothes. And probably a decent meal. I've had his cooking. You're lucky you didn't die."

Hadron grunted again and stomped off. Odelia took my arm in a firm grip and the door slammed shut behind me, ending my chance at freedom.

* * *

The madam wasn't kidding about a bath and clothes and I wondered how I was to pay for her largesse, or when it would start. Two maids scrubbed me to within an inch of my life in the hot, lilac-scented bath, which I didn"t expect. The maids were two young women with matching black hair. The dark green, almost olive color of their dresses contrasted with their pale skin and their dark hair. Their lips were painted red and their eyes were lined with black. A dark green ribbon tied their hair back in a tight ponytail, leaving only a few black strands loose. The other end of the ribbon was tied tight and held their hair in place.

They worked in tandem with scratchy sponges that resembled my loofah back home, scrubbing and rinsing. The water got darker and darker as I lost the dark grime that I had accumulated after days in that awful wagon. The water calmed me and, despite the aggressive cleansing, I rested my head against the back of the tub and closed my eyes. I might as well enjoy the pampering. Who knew when I would get the chance again.

The floors and walls were polished wood, with the light from the candelabra flickering and reflecting in the deep varnish. The furniture was a deep wood, also polished to a shine, with comfortable cushions embroidered, possibly by hand. Nothing looked like it came from IKEA or a department store.

The maids talked around me as if I wasn"t even there, assessing my looks and my assets as if I were a commodity, which I guess I was. They discussed my hourglass figure, my smooth skin, my large breasts, and how I could fetch a high price at auction, especially with my fire hair. I asked what this auction was, but they ignored me and kept talking about how I could fetch the highest price they"d ever seen and how it was too bad that I hadn"t come earlier to really drive up the competition.

Something must have been in the water, or maybe in the glass of wine they had given me to sip because I couldn"t find it in myself to freak out about this auction. I could only hope a high price meant I wouldn"t be abused, enslaved, or mistreated. But who knew? Someone hopefully would tell me what the hell I was in for. And the wine was truly excellent. If I was going to be a slave, I highly doubted they would bathe me and give me excellent wine. Right? Or maybe they were lulling me into a false sense of security. Either way, I'd enjoy it while I could.

Eventually, the water ran clear, and I was dried off and handed a pretty, deep green dress that reminded me of the renaissance faire dresses I had seen in pictures. The waist was cinched tightly and my breasts were pushed high, making them appear even larger than they already were, which was saying a lot since they already were a generous D cup. While I had never been called petite, the way the dress was cut, I had a curvy figure, wide hips, and an ample butt, which my boyfriend always liked. The maids looked proud of how I looked in the dress, saying how they would love me.

I wished I knew who the they were, but I feared it was the creatures I saw on my way in. Hiding in the inn was a great way to bury my head in the sand about my new reality, especially since I was surrounded mostly by human women or what passed for humans since both women with me had pointy ears and an otherworldly quality about them that I couldn't quite place, but that existed beyond these walls.

Finally, I was escorted to a sitting room where food had been laid out. Several women were already in the room, gathered in small clusters, eating at different tables, talking, and laughing as if they weren't prisoners about to be auctioned off like livestock. One would think they wanted this.

I felt my stomach growling with hunger as I saw all the delicious-looking dishes presented before me. Despite my fear and uncertainty about what was going to happen next, my mouth still watered at the sight of freshly roasted lamb and chicken with vegetables and fruits, along with several pastries and all sorts of other goodies spread across the tables. Despite the situation, I could always eat. Hence my curves.

Despite being scared out of my wits, I forced myself up from where I had been seated and made my way toward one of the tables. My hands were shaking as I picked up a plate and piled it high with food. I paused, unsure if I should trust the food. I remembered how I felt with the single glass of wine, as if I had been drugged, and wondered if the food had anything added to it. As I stood there staring at the feast laid out before me, I noticed some of the women looking at me curiously from across the room. I thought maybe these other girls were talking about me or judging me for being an outsider or just not fitting in.

"You should eat something. There's plenty of food and it's good. Better than most of us got anywhere else." A woman spoke from my right and I turned.

The other woman was raven haired with beautiful blue eyes. Hell, she was gorgeous, taller than I was, curvy like I was, but she wore it well, proud of who she was and her status. She was easily the star in this room and everyone knew it, which was probably why she stood alone. She ran her gaze over me, in a considering fashion.

"You're the new girl, right? Hadron brought you in? I'm Daria."

Well, shit. I didn't want to make an enemy of the top bitch in the room. Maybe try the truth and see where it got me. No one had listened yet. "Olivia. I honestly have no idea what's going on. I'm not from here and I just want to go home."

She initially laughed, then it died away when I didn't. "Oh, you're serious. You're from away. I've heard of girls like you. Get something to eat and we can talk."

We piled food on our plates and found a small table near a window. I sensed this was Daria's private table, and no one dared touch it. Queen bitch indeed. We settled in and looked out over the courtyard and main part of the town. Daria was right. The food was excellent and a significant improvement over Hadron's stew or whatever it was. Daria let me eat until my plate was clean, a small smile on her lips.

"So Hadron found you?"

I nodded. "My boyfriend and I had a fight, and he dumped me. I was walking to town, and a fog came in. Next thing I knew, I was here, in Hadron's wagon."

Daria looked thoughtful. "I've heard of stories like yours. People, often women, but not only women, who wander unknowingly into our realm through doorways."

Excitement seized me. Finally, someone who believed me and who might be able to help me. "Do you know how I can get back again? Do you know anyone who can take me?"

Daria shook her head sadly. "I've heard these doorways move and they don't always go to the same place or the same realm. You could end up somewhere far worse. Trust me, you're lucky you came here."

I snorted. "To be auctioned off like cattle? I'm not a slave."

Daria stared at me. "We're not slaves. The auction is good for us, well, most of us."

I held up my wrists where I still had marks from the shackles. "Tell me how this is good?"

Daria wrinkled her nose. "Hadron is not the best at collecting women or explaining things. It must be his ogre father. Not smart, ogres. But the auction is good for us. These males pay for the privilege of being chosen to be our mates. They have to pay and we get to select them."

I don't think I heard the other woman right. That didn't make any sense. "I don't think I understand. They pay to be a part of the auction, but we get to choose who we want?"

A broad grin crossed Daria's face. "Yup. We decide who we'll mate. The only catch is that we have to pick one from the available crop. You can't decline to pick. And that's a risk. You never know who has enough money to enter. Unless you set it up." She gave a sly grin and sipped her tea.

"Why don't you just marry outside of this? Find someone you love and marry, or mate or whatever it is?"

"You could do that, but there's no guarantee they can afford you. You see, in auctions, they have to pay, which means they have the means to keep a mate. If your family doesn't have prestige to demand that outside of an auction, this is the best way to ensure you can raise your circumstances. And your family gets a cut of the bride price."

In my case, Hadron sold me like a slave and I still get screwed. Still a slave. "Well, not for me. No family. Only Hadron who will sell me and pocket the money. Still like a slave."

Daria shook her head. "Believe it or not, he saved you. If you were near the orc lands, their king would take you a prisoner and force you into slavery or worse, his harem. If anyone else found you on the road, they could have force mated you. Hadron, while he gets money for you in the auction, protected you by bringing you here, giving you the protection of a respectable mating. Every female of a certain age has to be mated or they are fair game for males of ill repute. And the orc king? He's hunting for females to sire a child on. He's vicious.

"It may not seem like it, but he saved your life."