Page 29 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Ileana.

I'm cold. I'm hungry. My whole body aches from sleeping on the floor. A few other women are locked up in cages nearby, just like me, waiting for the big day—the auction.

From what I understand, each seller gets their own cell. I guess I’m lucky, if that word even applies here. Prax and Bully are only selling me, so I’m alone. Other cells hold four to eight women.

I still can’t wrap my head around how I ended up here. Maybe this was Pherebos’s plan all along. I did manage to switch vendors, but my escape just led me straight to this place. Vagantu. Mostly underwater, and from what I’ve heard, a major hub for trafficking of all kinds.

Since I was taken, I’ve barely seen Prax or Bully. Prax is a Sadjim—part feline. Bully’s a Penubian, more reptilian. It’s Bully who’s been in charge of me, keeping me drugged and sluggish with constant injections until we arrived. Not that I could’ve escaped their ship anyway .

Since we landed on Vagantu, they’ve kept me in these gray, damp, moldy cells that stink of rot.

I wear a restraint collar they control remotely.

I haven’t dared test it, but I saw what happened to a woman who spit at a guard—she collapsed, screaming in pain.

Since then, I’ve kept my head down. I don’t even make eye contact.

Bully brings me food once a day. The prison only provides the cages; it’s up to the vendors to keep their merchandise in good shape. I tried pleading with him, begging for my freedom. He didn’t even respond. Just looked at me like I wasn’t worth the effort.

He hasn’t come back since yesterday morning. I finished my energy bar hours ago.

Suddenly, the lights in the gaol flicker on, stabbing into my eyes. That usually means vendors are coming—to check on us or bring food.

I’m surprised when Prax shows up. He stops in front of my cell while a guard hands him the remote for my collar.

“Come,” he says. “Follow me. You’re getting a bath and a proper meal.”

I give him a look—half suspicion, half disbelief. What’s he up to?

“I won’t hurt you. I promise,” he says, raising his hands like he’s trying to prove it.

Not that I have a choice. I get up and follow him out.

We walk through a few corridors, and I realize just how many victims are trapped here. It’s not just women. There are men too—young ones, from what I can tell. I don’t recognize all the species. Some I’ve never even heard of.

Eventually, we leave the massive storage area behind and step onto a wide, covered terrace overlooking the sea. The water is a deep, dark green, stretching endlessly to the horizon. There’s no coastline. Just ocean.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air after days in that stinking cell. It feels like the first real breath I’ve taken in forever.

Above us, two birds circle in the cloudy sky, screeching. There’s no moon. Nothing in orbit. No point of reference. Just this strange, endless world.

Prax leads me a little farther. The esplanade narrows, and on the right, I see a row of small cubicles overlooking the sea.

He guides me to one of them and pulls back a curtain to give us some privacy.

The space is about two by three meters, with two seats around a low table and a few steps that lead directly into the water.

The walls slope down into the sea, and a fine mesh grille surrounds the natural pool, making sure no one can swim out.

“Take off your clothes and wash up,” Prax says casually, settling into one of the seats like this is all perfectly normal.

I glance at him, wary. I’m completely at his mercy—whatever he wants, I can’t stop him.

I take off my tunic and slip quickly into the dark water. It’s warmer than I expected. The swimming area is small, maybe three meters across, but I can touch the bottom almost everywhere .

Prax has already picked up my tunic and handed it off to a servant. So now I can’t leave. What is he thinking?

Relax, he says. Your tunic’s just being cleaned. Not exactly a luxury, you know? I’ve got a much more sensitive nose than Bully, and even he didn’t notice anything.

His words make my cheeks burn with shame. Of course I smell—I’ve been wearing the same thing for days, and the only washing I’ve had was with a few damp cloths.

But I don’t have anything else to wear.

It’ll be clean and dry in a few minutes. And you’ll get a full meal—boiled vegetables, and something with cooked grains. Bully told me this morning he’s only been giving you bars. I’m sorry I didn’t check sooner.

Prax looks genuinely downcast. Could it be that he’s not as heartless as his friend? Should I try again—lower myself and beg for my freedom?

“So this is what you do for a living? Kidnap people who never asked for anything and sell them to the highest bidder?”

“Er, no. Not really,” he says, clearly annoyed.

“Oh? Well, here I am. I’m not going to be your captive, or anyone else’s.”

He looks distracted, running a nervous hand through the mane between his ears.

I haven’t seen many Sadjim before, but I have to admit—he’s attractive.

He looks mostly human, maybe six feet tall, with gray fur streaked with darker lines.

His face is unmistakably feline, with black hair that falls down his neck.

Long, pointed ears sit on either side of his head, and his golden eyes are striking.

“Look, Ileana, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough season.

We usually smuggle small stuff, not… this.

But lately, with all the Confed patrols and sweeps, things have gotten complicated.

When we saw your single-seater flying alone, unprotected, Bully got interested.

He thought we could strike a deal with a Confed officer—get a good price.

It could’ve worked, even if it was a little unusual. ”

He pauses, then adds, “Bully shot you in a way that disabled your ship’s processor.

We towed you for a while, just long enough for the cold to knock you out.

Then we checked what we’d actually caught.

We were surprised to find you instead of some officer.

You’re young, healthy, and human. Not exactly ideal for us.

But Bully realized right away that you were valuable. ”

“How lucky for you,” I snap. “And it never crossed your mind that I might have the right to live my life without being owned by someone else? Seems like that’s a recurring theme for me.”

A servant interrupts, placing a large towel on the empty seat beside him.

Prax shifts uncomfortably under my words. If I believe what he’s saying, it was Bully who made the call. But Prax didn’t stop him. He could have. Before I ended up in a cage on Vagantu.

I scrub myself hard with the exfoliating cloth, rinse my hair thoroughly, and try to untangle it with my fingers. Then I climb out of the water .

When I look up, Prax is staring at me. He’s clearly not indifferent—but it’s not the same as what I felt with Pherebos. With my Asgarnien, his gaze felt like a warm embrace. Prax’s is more… admiring. Not romantic.

I rush to the towel and wrap it tightly around myself, trying to hide my body from him.

“I’m sorry,” he says at last. “This is the first time I’ve been involved in something like this. And honestly, I’m not comfortable with it. But there’s nothing I can do now. Since we landed, we’re under Vagantu law. They’re taking half our profit from the sale. That’s just how it works.”

“Don’t you have the right to change your mind?”

“No. Even if I wanted to—and Bully definitely wouldn’t agree—I’d still have to pay Noviosk, the head of Vagantu, his cut. And your estimate is already high, and it’s not even auction day yet.”

“How wonderful,” I say bitterly. “What a noble way to make a living—off other people’s freedom.”

Prax presses his lips together and turns away. His discomfort seems real. But if what he’s saying is true, it doesn’t change anything for me.

He stands as a servant enters, carrying a tray with several dishes. The smell hits me instantly—warm, savory, comforting. My mouth waters before I even realize it.

He hands me a large bowl filled with a mix of boiled vegetables. It’s delicious—so much better than those dry nutrition bars. Then there’s a dish of toasted cereal, rich with sweet vegetable fat. It’s calling my name.

“Where are you from?” Prax asks.

“I’d just escaped from a Confederation base when you intercepted me,” I say, giving him a quick summary and skipping the details.

“Ouch. That’s rough,” he replies.

“As you say,” I mutter, shoveling in a big spoonful of vegetables. “And you?”

“Well, as you might guess, I’m from Sadjim.

My parents were smugglers, so I guess the path was kind of laid out for me.

I’ve never really had the same drive for it as others, though.

That’s why I eventually left my family and my planet.

I teamed up with Bully—he’s more into rare metals and rocks.

It’s less harmful, more in line with what I can live with. ”

“Metals and rocks,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think I qualify as either. And I’m pretty sure you already know I’m not a rock. Besides, stripping a planet of its resources doesn’t exactly sound noble, even if you’ve found a way to justify it to yourself.”

He looks at me with those golden eyes, but there’s no anger in them.

“You’re judging me without knowing where I come from. We all get shaped by our origins. It’s not always easy to break away from that,” he says, shrugging.

I keep eating, thinking about what he said.

Prax doesn’t seem like a bad guy—just someone who followed the path laid out for him and never questioned it too much.

But maybe he could. Maybe I could be the one to make him see things differently.

If there’s any chance of getting out of this, it might be through him. I need to convince him to help me.

We keep talking while we eat, and honestly, he’s not bad company. I can tell he’s not fully at peace with the life he’s living. There’s hesitation in him, like he’s stuck in something he doesn’t quite believe in.

We finish the vegetables, and then it’s time for the sweet cereal dish.

It’s surprisingly good—crispy on the outside, soft on the inside.

If I weren’t in such a terrifying situation, I might actually enjoy this moment.

Even Prax’s company. He keeps glancing at me with something that feels like admiration.

I’m no expert, but I don’t think he’s indifferent. Not at all.

If he hadn’t chosen this path, I might even call him attractive—charming, clever, charismatic. Why do men always seem to come with some hidden side you wish you didn’t have to discover?

After I finish eating, a servant returns with my freshly laundered tunic. I slip it on and take a better look around. There’s nowhere to run. Even the sea access points are blocked off. And I have no idea what’s out there. What’s the point of swimming away if there’s nowhere to go?

Bully shows up, and he looks furious.

“I was giving our guest a proper bath,” Prax says calmly. “Unlike you, I have a sensitive nose. That wipe you gave her wasn’t nearly enough for basic hygiene.”

“You’re being picky,” Bully snaps. “Smelling bad isn’t a disease, and it doesn’t put her in danger. Don’t get attached. She’s just merchandise. ”

His words hit me hard. Every time he opens his mouth, he reminds me that I don’t have any rights here. That my life doesn’t belong to me anymore. Since I arrived, he’s done nothing but belittle me.

“Bully, that’s enough,” Prax says sharply. “You don’t have to treat her like that. She didn’t choose to be here. And right now, it costs nothing to show a little kindness. Who knows where she’ll end up after the sale?”

“She might as well get used to the idea now,” Bully growls. “What are you doing, trying to play hero? You think we’re some kind of Confed agents spreading peace and love across the galaxy?”

“Damn it, Bully,” Prax mutters. “I was just trying to make her day a little less miserable.”

The Penubian storms toward Prax, his glare intense. The sides of his head puff out like a cobra’s hood. I tense up. Bully’s never been gentle, but I’ve always felt relatively safe around him. That might be changing.

“Don’t even think about double-crossing me,” he hisses.

“She’s already tried to guilt-trip me into letting her go.

Now she’s working on you. Why do you think I was the one taking care of her?

Because I’m a Penubian. Cold-blooded. Logical.

Not ruled by feelings. She’s valuable—our only real asset.

There’s no point in pampering her. She’ll just try to manipulate her next owner too.

Unless you’ve got enough to pay Noviosk half her value—and the quarter that’s mine, which we both know you don’t—you’d better back off and leave her to me.

I don’t want to see you near her again. ”

“You must have me confused with someone who takes orders from you,” Prax fires back. “You’re not my boss. You’re my partner. And you’re on my ship. So take your orders somewhere else.”

The two of them are squared off now, both radiating fury. Bully’s a little shorter, but his icy stare and flared-out face make him look terrifying. Prax is just as tense. His claws are out, and his fingers have lengthened by several inches—razor-sharp now, like living blades.

They’re shouting so loudly that two guards rush over, weapons drawn.

“Is there a problem with the slave?” one of them asks, already holding the remote for my collar.

“Yes!” Bully barks.

“No!” Prax says at the same time.

“Take her back to her cell. Now,” the guard orders. “If she causes trouble, her price might drop.”

“Everything’s fine,” Bully says quickly. “She’s not involved. We were just arguing. No need to report anything to Noviosk.”

“Come on. I’ll take you back,” Prax says, his fur still bristling with anger.

A few minutes later, we’re back in front of my cell.

“I’m going to try to find a way out of this, Ileana,” he says.

“And if Bully doesn’t like it, he can find another partner.

Trading in living beings was never supposed to be part of the deal.

I’m sorry. I should’ve said no when we found you.

I wish I could promise more, but there’s not much I can do right now. Still… I promise I’ll try. ”

Back in my cell, the weight of it all crashes down again. I’m still in deep trouble. And the way out feels very, very far away.