Page 31 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Ileana.

I haven’t seen Prax. Bully’s been colder than ever, clearly blaming me for the tension between him and his partner.

A few hours after Prax brought me back to my cell—clean and fed—Bully returned to escort me to the presentation room.

There, I was restrained against a digital wall while one of Vagantu’s managers recorded my physical stats, checked my teeth, and entered everything into a display system—like I was just another item for sale. It was humiliating.

He asked where I was from. I told him I’m Human, half-Indian, half-Caucasian. That seemed to please him. But when I mentioned I had a medical degree and was licensed to practice, he just shrugged.

“If you think buyers here care about what’s in your head,” he said, “then you haven’t understood where you are. Now smile for your promotional video.”

I tried to mentally check out, to focus on anything else. But Bully wasn’t having it. He leaned in close and whispered in my ear .

“Look into the camera. Make them want you. A tearful look works just as well—some buyers enjoy seeing pain. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll regret it.”

I didn’t mean to, but I ended up giving the camera a tear-filled stare, right next to a list of my stats and qualifications.

When Bully brought me back to my cell, he looked satisfied. He didn’t follow through on his threats, but he left me alone with the weight of it all.

Since yesterday, I’ve been curled up on the floor, trying to make sense of how I ended up here. I keep replaying everything, wondering what I could’ve done differently. But I can’t find an answer.

I have to face it. And according to Bully, things could get worse. My future buyer might be even crueler than Henri. And this time, there’s no regeneration chamber to soften the blows.

Henri used to unleash his rage on me, then stop once he’d calmed down. I used to think that meant he didn’t want me to suffer. But now I realize—he wasn’t protecting me. He was protecting himself. If it weren’t for outside scrutiny, I’m sure he would’ve wanted the scars to stay.

I hear footsteps in the corridor. Probably another vendor coming to feed their captives. I don’t even look up. Bully already gave me a nutrition bar this morning.

“Ileana!” a voice calls. “It’s me, Prax.”

I get up and walk to the front of my cell.

“Come. Follow me. Noviosk wants to see us.”

“Who? ”

“Noviosk. He’s one of the Coalition’s top leaders—and the one in charge of Vagantu.”

As a guard hands Prax the remote for my collar, I study his face. He looks thoughtful.

“Is this normal?” I ask. “For someone like him to request a meeting with a captive?”

“I don’t know,” Prax admits. “We’ve never been here before. Like I said, we don’t usually deal in lives. But I’ve never heard of this happening.”

We follow the guard through the corridors, moving quickly.

“It’s because you caught his eye,” Prax says suddenly.

“But I haven’t done anything,” I protest.

Prax stops and looks at me, his eyes full of concern.

“Ileana, I submitted a request to buy you out. It’s not a common process. Maybe that’s what surprised him. Either way, he wants to see us both.”

My heart races. Could this be the turning point? I trust Prax. He’s not like the others. If anyone could offer me a safer future, it’s him.

I square my shoulders and follow him through the prison’s winding halls. But I can’t let myself hope too much. Prax isn’t rich, and there’s no guarantee he can afford both Noviosk’s and Bully’s shares.

“Bully? Isn’t he your partner?”

“He is,” Prax says. “But things haven’t been great between us. When we found you, I considered walking away. But Bully doesn’t let go of valuable catches. Ileana, I’ll do what I can to help you. I just can’t promise it’ll work. ”

Right now, having someone on my side means everything. In this dark place, even a flicker of light feels like hope.

Eventually, the grim prison walls give way to brighter ones—carved and polished from stone. The corridors widen, lit by solar panels.

We stop in front of a heavy wooden door, its surface etched with intricate designs. It’s rare to see real wood these days. This door looks ancient.

The guard knocks, then opens it with a creak. We step into a low-ceilinged room. At the far end, behind a massive desk, sits a figure unlike any I’ve seen.

He’s lupine—a wolf-man with nearly black fur, a long muzzle, and sharp teeth. His eyes are piercing, like they can see straight through me.

He studies me silently, then shifts his gaze to Prax with clear disapproval. Prax looks uneasy.

“So, this is the Human everyone’s been talking about,” the wolf-man says with a sneer.

I stay silent. Prax doesn’t answer either—he just gives a respectful nod.

“Hey, Noviosk,” he says. “I’m Prax, a Sadjim, partner of the Penubian Bully. It’s an honor to meet one of the Coalition’s legends.”

Noviosk starts speaking, his voice calm but unsettling. “I’ve received a rather strange request… A trafficker bringing in a slave for sale, then suddenly backing out—willing to give up his entire fortune.”

I see Prax tense beside me. He hesitates, unsure of how to respond .

Noviosk continues, his tone sharper now.

“You see, this isn’t a trivial matter. Either you’ve fallen for the girl—which, I suppose, would be understandable.

She’s beautiful, and males can be weak when faced with certain kinds of beauty.

Or… you’re feeling guilty. Your conscience is getting in the way.

And that’s a problem. I have no use for a trafficker with principles. You understand?”

Something primal stirs in me. Without thinking, I reach for Prax’s hand, gripping it tightly—like we’ve shared something before, like I’m seeking his protection. Our fingers intertwine, and Noviosk’s eyes lock onto our hands. For a moment, his posture softens. Just a little.

Nervous, I reach for Prax’s hand, as if we’re already close, silently asking for his protection. Noviosk notices and seems to relax slightly.

“I’ve developed a kind of attachment to her,” Prax admits. “Bully’s cold—he put her up for sale even though I asked him not to. He didn’t care about my objections.”

“You’re not lying,” Noviosk says. “The Srebat—my kind—can smell lies. And you’re telling the truth.”

That was close. So Noviosk is a Srebat. I’ll have to remember that—he can tell when someone’s lying.

“The thing is, Prax,” he continues, “this woman has already caught the attention of several potential buyers. I doubt you’ll win the auction, even if you give up your share.”

I glance at Prax, anxious. He just shrugs, calm .

“If I can’t keep her, then that’s how it is. It’s an auction. I can’t control the outcome.”

My eyes drift to the wooden desk, trying to escape the piercing blue gaze of the Srebat.

“Admiring my furniture?” he asks.

“Your desk, your chair, and that front door—they’re all impressive,” I reply honestly.

“You’re not just flattering me,” he says, sounding pleased. “You really mean it.”

“Of course. The door alone, with all those intricate carvings, is a work of art. It must’ve taken ages to make. And it looks ancient.”

“It is,” he says. “It came from your planet. So did the desk and the chair. When the oceans swallowed most of your lands, humans traded away their heritage for food or shelter. This piece came from an old place of worship—‘Notre-Dame de Paris,’ I believe. I don’t know much more.

I’ve never studied your world’s history.

But I’ll admit—your artists, sculptors, musicians…

they had real skill. I’d trade everything here for a seat in the Coalition, like the one the seller claimed.

If I hadn’t taken these pieces for myself, they would’ve rotted away under the mud and ice. ”

“I’m glad you saved them,” I say, trying to sound sincere.

Noviosk rises slowly from his chair, stretching to his full height.

I swallow hard. He’s massive—easily over eight feet tall—and intimidating. His lips curl slightly, revealing sharp canines .

“I can smell dishonesty,” he says. “And fear. Yours has a certain… flavor.”

Beside me, Prax tenses, his mane bristling.

“Relax, kitten,” Noviosk says with a mocking grin. “I’m not planning to damage her. Though the thought is tempting. But one of our buyers has already placed a claim, and I’m curious to see how that plays out. So you’d better decide quickly.”

“But… the auction hasn’t even started,” Prax protests.

“True,” Noviosk replies. “But you won’t be the one buying her. I can guarantee that. Take heart, kitten. With what you’ll earn from this sale, you could afford a companion of your own. Maybe even two. We’ve got a few Sadjim females available, if you’ve noticed. And even…”

“Incoming call,” interrupts the AI embedded in Noviosk’s desk.

“Duty calls,” the wolf-man says with a grin. “Tusco, take them back.”

Prax and I follow the guard, Tusco, toward the exit. As the heavy wooden doors close behind us, I catch Noviosk’s voice continuing his conversation.

“The Unshakable! Good morning. The auction’s tomorrow at the Grand Market. Just wait at my place—I’ll meet you there after. Then we can talk about those schematics you stole from the Confed for me. I love getting my hands on their latest tech before they even finish testing it. ”

I walk in silence, Prax just behind me. I’ve heard enough to know something’s wrong. Noviosk has a contact inside the Confederation—someone with access to sensitive data, willing to sell it to the Coalition.

Pherebos’s face flashes in my mind. He’s the only one I know who moves easily between both sides.

If he’s the one talking to Noviosk, this is bigger than I thought.

Selling me would be the least of it—leaking tech to the Coalition could have devastating consequences. I hope I’m wrong. But I doubt it.

“I’m sorry,” Prax says quietly, his voice low and rough. “It looks like there’s no way I can get you out.”

“Yeah,” I reply, trying not to sound too bitter. “Seems like my fate’s already sealed. But… thank you. For trying.”

“Thanks for playing along with Noviosk,” he adds. “It meant something to me. Even if it didn’t change anything.”

“There’s definitely a connection between us,” I say. “If things had been different, maybe we could’ve been friends.”

“Definitely,” he says with a small smile. “Though I’ll admit, if I’d been able to buy you, I wouldn’t have said no to something more. Spending time with you… it’s shown me you’re someone I’d want in my life.”

He laughs softly, but I can tell he means it. My feline guardian definitely has a soft spot for me.

When we reach my cell, I sit back down on the cold floor. He gives me a nod, then turns and walks away .

And just like that, I’m back where I started—alone, in a damp, grimy cell, waiting to be sold to someone who might be even worse than Noviosk.

No doubt about it. The fairy who was supposed to bless my cradle must’ve skipped BN-35 entirely.