Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

F ingers poked into Xenia’s mouth, lifting her lips and examining her teeth.

She wanted to clamp down and bite them.

“Healthy gums,” the male said. His dark eyes were set deep into a pudgy face covered with a thick black beard. “A good sign. Not like the last few I’ve purchased from you, Rankin.”

The male removed his hands from her mouth, and Xenia dipped her head, twisting her wrists in her tight shackles.

She had no idea where on the continent she was.

After the trafficker, Rankin, had stolen her from Ohan Stolia’s headquarters, she’d woken up in a truck bed covered by a canvas canopy. She’d spent the entire jostling journey—what had felt like days—alone and afraid, debilitated by the worst headache she’d ever experienced.

Today, they’d arrived at an abandoned storefront in some ramshackle little town in the middle of nowhere. The air was dry and hot enough to be on the edge of the Desolation, maybe? If so, that would put her somewhere in either northwestern Akti or southeastern Brachos.

As soon as the truck had stopped, Rankin had ripped open the canopy and dragged her out into the blinding sun, her legs stiff and her back aching.

“Look alive, pretty pet,” he’d said. “This buyer has drachas to spend on a host gift. Asked for a pristine one.” He’d dragged his gaze down her matted curls and filthy blue dress. “Hopefully he’ll see the potential.”

The Fae male before her now, another Beastrunner, stepped back to examine her. Xenia wanted to claw the hungry grin off his face. Fuck these shackles.

Rankin slapped a hand onto the male’s shoulder. “Thoughts? I’ve got limited stock right now. Business is booming since Eamon Erabis took the throne. He’s even less interested in upholding the Accords than his father was. Although I will say, I’ve rarely come across one as deliciously tempting. I’ve tasted her fear already and it was divine . Feel free to sample her before you make your decision. What kind of humans does your friend typically go for?”

Xenia froze, clenching her jaw. Her eyes prickled, but she refused to cry. These assholes didn’t deserve her tears.

She wondered what Cael would say if he could see her now—in the exact scenario he’d warned her about. And the reason he’d wanted her to return to the colonies in the first place.

“Yes,” the bearded male said, ignoring Rankin’s question. “I think a sample is in order. But perhaps a different emotion would be a better test? Since you’ve already tasted her fear. I trust your palette.”

Her head shot up as he approached, and she flinched from his hands, which were covered knuckle to wrist in coarse, sable fur. That combined with his round face, barrel-like chest, and the paunch jutting over his belt had Xenia guessing he was a bear bi-form.

Her shaking hands jangled her shackles as the male brushed her hair back and brought his nose to her neck.

He was all rancid breath and stale sweat, as if he too had been traveling for days. Xenia fought to suppress her gag reflex.

He sucked in a deep breath and the thread of anger woven through Xenia’s fear, exhaustion, and anxiety blazed hot enough to scorch the desert outside.

Her wrists strained against her shackles and a throat-shredding roar tore past her lips. And though she knew her emotions were being manipulated, knew it was this disgusting specimen of a male heightening her anger, it felt far too good to deny.

Her chest heaved as she gnashed her teeth toward his ear, but he pulled away at the last second.

“Oh, you are a treat,” the male chuckled. “Pity I’m not keeping you for myself.”

The anger banked as abruptly as it had boiled, and an overwhelming wave of despair buckled her knees. She released a garbled sob.

Rankin backhanded her across the cheek.

The blow was a comfort, the pain far more real than whatever the other male had just pulled from her.

“Don’t you fucking cry in front of a buyer,” Rankin snarled. “If he wanted to feed on your sadness, he would.”

“Now, now,” the male said. “Don’t frighten the poor thing. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself on the journey if I’m tempted by the scent of it.” He took a step back to study her further. “How much?”

“Five-hundred thousand,” Rankin declared, crossing his arms as he too dipped his chin in a perusal of Xenia’s body.

The male snorted, then turned to Rankin with an indignant glare. “I haven’t paid that much for a human ever . And certainly not one I’m giving away.”

“You’ve just tasted her. Surely you agree she’s worth it.”

The male stroked his beard. “Let me have a look at the rest of her.”

Xenia blanched before Rankin grabbed her upper arm forcefully enough to inspire a yelp. “Come on, pet, no need for a struggle.”

Xenia choked down an urge to vomit as Rankin unbuttoned her dress and pushed the fabric off her shoulders. It gathered around her waist, caught by her shackled hands.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears away. Reminded herself she was more than just a body. No matter how these Fae males were treating her.

She whimpered as rough fingers stabbed her collarbone, then traveled down her sternum before trailing along her breast.

“Tits are a bit small, but otherwise she’s flawless,” the bear bi-form said, pulling her dress back up. “But five-hundred thousand is excessive, by any standard. I’ll give you three.”

Rankin plucked at a whisker, running his tongue over a sharpened fang. “Four-fifty. I’ve already got an offer from a buyer in the Northern Territories. He’s been begging me for a blonde. You know how rare they are.”

Xenia thought he might be bluffing, remembered Rankin offering Cael two-hundred and fifty-thousand for her in that alley in Rhamnos. Wrath of Vestan, what she wouldn’t give for Cael to come barreling in to save her now like he had then.

“Bullshit,” the bear bi-form huffed. “Three seventy-five. That’s my final offer.”

Rankin’s amber eyes glittered as he revealed a familiar, black-handled Typhon dagger.

Ker. Cassandra’s dagger.

He must’ve retrieved it from the Windrider at the desk in Ohan’s building.

“Four-hundred and I’ll throw in this,” Rankin countered. “You and I both know it’s worth three times the difference. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a blade from a Vestian Guard down in the colonies. A true work of art. The High Gods only know how this little kitten ended up with it.”

The bear bi-form took the dagger, then swiped it through the air, admiring the whorled pattern on the blade. “Good balance,” he murmured. “Though I’m not sure what use I would have for such a weapon.”

He lunged and brought the edge of the knife up under Xenia’s chin, nearly nicking her skin. Ice cold fear coursed through her veins.

The bear bi-form sucked in a deep breath, then chuckled. “It is quite handy for inspiring fear, though, isn’t it?” He removed the blade from Xenia’s throat and stepped back, flipping the dagger in his hand and thrusting the handle toward Rankin. “Deal. Wrap this and the kitten up for me. I’ll meet you out at my convoy with the payment.” He strode for the door, then turned back. “For the paperwork, put the name of her new owner. She’s a surprise gift for the family I’m marrying my daughter into. Heading up to Diachre to see them now.”

“As you wish, Laskaris,” Rankin answered. “Whose name would you like me to put down?”

The bear bi-form, Laskaris, wrapped a meaty hand around the door frame. “Zephyrus.”

Xenia’s heart stalled.

“Arran Zephyrus.”