4. Jasmine

"Sold! To the elf in the balcony!"

And with that, I am sold.

The crowd erupts into murmurs and discontent, but I can barely hear them. My fate is sealed, and now I must play my part perfectly, lest I never find the chance to escape.

As I stare out at the countless faces, my body is a shaky mess of nerves that threaten to undo my composure. I stand there, wondering what will happen to me now. The thought could be overwhelming if I let it.

But I won't. My head is held high, and outwardly, I'm a vision of confidence, but inside I'm falling to pieces.

My nerves are shot, not knowing that soon I will meet the elf that bought me.

I look up at the VIP boxes, trying to catch a glimpse of the elf that placed the highest bid. But he is nowhere to be found.

It's funny being put up for purchase as a slave because part of the worry is not being good enough or worth the money.

I try to squelch the thought away and stick to the plan I made myself. I will bide my time, accept my fate, and, at a later time, find a way to escape. Surely, it will be easier to escape one man than it would to escape the entirety of the auction house.

I take a steadying breath and look out at the leering dark elves gazing upon my barely clothed form. Anyone of them could have bought me today. My life from here was decided by a roll of a dice.

The air is thick with the musk of ancient wood, and the incense that curls lazily from braziers set around the room.

My heart hammers behind my ribs, the only sound loud enough to challenge the murmur of the crowd. It has been mere minutes since I was sold, yet it feels like a million years.

"You. Come," says a servant, ushering me off the stage. I follow obediently, head bowed, but inside, I"m awake, alert, and already plotting my next move.

The scent of rich mahogany and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns envelop me as I"m led upstairs into the VIP lounge, a stark contrast to the chaos of the stalls below.

"I am Tommus, and you, girl, will listen to me," The servant, Tommus, says.

He leads into one of the booths. I notice a figure lounging on a blood-red sofa.

"Kneel," Tommus hisses at me, and I obey, the plush carpet pressing against my knees. My gaze fixes on the intricate patterns below me, tracing them as if they might reveal an escape route, a hidden passage to freedom.

"Look at me," a deep voice commands, slicing through the thick silence.

I lift my gaze to meet smoldering eyes set in a noble visage. Power and mystery radiate from this dark elf, my master.

"I am Karul, and now I own you," Karul says.

Karul"s uncaring eyes meet mine, and there"s something there, a depth that his carefree facade doesn"t fully conceal. Maybe, just maybe, I can use that to my advantage.

He lounges with deceptive ease. His platinum hair is unusually short for a dark elf of nobility, leaving the vicious scar that crosses his neck exposed.

His brooding eyes fixate on me with an intensity that could peel back the layers of my soul.

"You"re a beautiful doll, aren"t you?" he muses, his tone light but underlaid with steel. "There"s fire behind those sparkling blue eyes. Yet here you are, poised and composed."

Beneath this obedient shell, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one a desperate grasp at the hope I"ve been clinging to.

"Are you afraid?" Karul tilts his head, studying me as if I am a puzzle to be solved.

"Terrified," I admit, because vulnerability can also be a weapon.

"Good." Karul"s lips curve into a half-smile, acknowledging my strategy.

He"s more than he appears, this dark elf noble with scars that tell tales of survival. His black shirt and a purple tunic, matched with a pair of tight pants aren"t exactly the common outfit of someone in his position.

I notice a crude-looking necklace resting against his chest—a stark contrast to the opulence surrounding us.

It adds to the illusion of this noble dark elf who presents himself as anything but, yet his presence buzzes with a commanding sense of power. It is consuming.

I put together the pieces quickly, assessing the enigmatic elf I am up against.

I recognize his tactics, a facade, showing all the things you want people to see on the outside and shoving away the ugly parts of yourself, the trauma and the pain, your true desires down deep on the inside. It"s like looking in a mirror.

"What do you think, Aqura?" Karul asks another elf seated beside a table of drinks

"A vision," Aqura replies.

"Would you like to fuck her?" Karul asks Aqura, who looks down at the drink in his hand.

"Well, I mean, of course not. She belongs to you," Aqura stutters.

"Correct answer, Aqura," Karul replies. The authority in his voice almost makes me flinch, though I do well to suppress the urge.

"Tommus, make ready the carriage," Karul commands.

Tommus bows and exits quickly without a single word, leaving us in an oppressive silence. His gaze then turns to Aqura, who quickly gets the message and follows out the door.

The space between us is charged with a tension I can"t quite name. He stands before me. His gaze is inscrutable as he unrolls a piece of parchment. From what I can make out, the script is elegant, but its content is likely anything but.

"This is your contract." he begins, his baritone voice resonating through the room. "It binds you to me. From this moment forward, I am your master."

The words should spark fear, or perhaps defiance, within me. Instead, there"s a strange calm. This was expected, inevitable. But there"s something beneath his words, a depth I hadn"t anticipated from someone of his kind.

"Your name?" Karul asks me.

"Jasmine," I say respectfully. My name is the only thing I possess that is truly mine, and now he owns even that.

His sharp eyes capture mine, and for a moment, I worry he can see through my own facade of obedience I"ve crafted. He steps closer, and I fight the instinct to recoil. His fingers are gentle, albeit firm, as they lift my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.

"Jasmine," he repeats as if tasting my name, committing it to memory. "A fitting name for someone so delicate and yet... so resilient."

I want to scoff at his assessment; he knows nothing of my resilience. But his touch, unexpectedly warm, ignites something within me—something like hope or perhaps the ember of rebellion. It"s a dangerous thing, I remind myself. It could burn me alive.

And yet, as I look into Karul"s eyes, I can"t help but wonder if this man, who, so obviously to me, defies expectations and hides his own scars beneath a veneer of nobility, might just be the ally I need in this gilded cage.

Karul"s fingers are cold against my skin as he releases my chin and steps back, surveying me with those intense eyes that seem to strip away the walls I"ve built around myself.

The room is cloaked in shadows, save for the flickering light of a single candle that casts an eerie glow on his platinum hair. Each strand is like a thread of moonlight—unnaturally beautiful.

"Jasmine," he begins, his deep voice smooth as the dark purple fabric flowing from his shoulders, "you will do. In fact, you're just perfect for the role."

My heart stutters.

Role? What role?

Confusion knots inside me, twisting the barrage of worrying thoughts crossing my mind.

"What role?" I manage to ask. My voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes in the vastness of the lounge, bouncing off the high ceiling and the heavy drapes that shroud the windows.

He doesn"t answer immediately. Instead, he circles me, footsteps silent on the plush carpet. I feel like prey under the scrutiny of a predator, though his gaze holds no malice—only an intensity that sets my pulse racing.

"Jasmine," he muses as if tasting the name on his lips.

The sound of my name on his lips sparks a primal nervousness that sends a cascade of goosebumps down my back. "In fact, you just might be the perfect thing." He looks at me curiously.

Confusion clouds my thoughts. What role could he possibly mean? A servant? An attendant? A pawn in some political game?

My brow furrows as I try to work out what he could possibly have planned for me after bidding so high. A shiver rolls through me.

His lips curl, cloaking his features behind a sinister smile. His eyes sweep down my body as he nods assertively.

"You, little doll, are going to be my new mate."