Alyssa

Growls and whimpers come to my ears from outside of the wagon, sending ice to my veins. I shove Tmee away. Two instincts yank me in two opposite directions. The morbid one wins. I move forward and peer out of the wagon. I wish I hadn’t.

The men’s stiff cocks are exposed. The three girls are on all fours.

I jerk my body back and cling to the wall. A cold sweat pricks my back as my heart pounds in my chest. I feel like I’m dying.

Then I hear the hell outside—the girls’ cries and pleas, the men’s sharp words. Choking, retching. Laughter, chants. Screams of pain. Growls of satisfaction. Silence.

A memory is burned into my brain. It forms a wound that will never heal. I’m contaminated for life.

Blackness obscures my vision, and I feel like I’m falling down into a chasm.

I’m numb for a while. I’m dead until Lanee’s voice brings me back to life.

“It will be over in two lunar triads,” Lanee says.

I realise the vehicle is moving forward, jumping over the stones and holes that mark our way.

I don’t know what to say to her so I just nod. She strokes my arm then buries me in her embrace.

Acid burns the inside of my stomach.

My hands tremble.

Then my whole being becomes a survival instinct. I’m an animal. I will breathe, eat, drink, and piss until it’s all over.

We stop after what seems many hours of travelling. I throw up as soon as my feet touch the rocky ground spread around me. It’s so cold my body trembles and my teeth chatter together. We are in the mountains. The rough edges of black rock formations mingle with patches of navy and emerald low vegetation. The cold wind smacks me with no mercy as a stream murmurs in the distance.

I force myself to eat and drink then stiffen in the corner of the wagon with my hands covering my ears.

Another day passes. They call it a lunar triad here.

I hope I wake up from this nightmare, but I don’t so I stop hoping.

The vehicle stops and our captors urge us to get off. As I straighten, my eyes roam over a round tent about a hundred steps wide. It looks like the tents that accommodate circus performances. Greens and reds form a background for golden rosettes on its fabric.

A male hand shoves me and I pull forward, my naked feet shuffling against the sandy ground spread around the tent. A wooden building rises in front of me. It looks like a pagoda that is three-stories high while a passage made of stained glass and metal connects it to the tent. I enter the building and steam envelops me. My eyes flick over ornate bathtubs, lacy black room dividers, and black furniture. Candles burn on side tables and exude a musky scent.

“Strip,” Birte barks to me.

Three tall women dressed in white long gowns enter the room. They look like humans but have very high cheekbones, short silver hair and big animal-like eyes of golden colour. One of them helps me remove my vest then shoves me towards one of the bathtubs like I’m poisonous to her.

My mind rebels against what is to come, and I step back.

Birte slaps the back of my head with her hand and raises her finger at me then pats the dagger attached to her waist.

I step into the bathtub and sit down with my knees bent. Two women start washing my hair and back with sponges. The smell of lavender and roses settles in my nostrils as foam invades my eyes, causing them to sting.

The women urge me to stand up and they wash my pussy and ass gently then shove me out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around me. One of them takes a tool from the cupboard. It’s long and looks like a hairbrush with a square head. The woman runs it up my leg. I hiss in pain. She’s depilating my legs.

Birte slaps the back of my head again and I see red sparks in front of my eyes. “Shut up, you fucking Straniera.”

My hand jerks up, but I stifle my urge to slap her back.

Her eyes are burning with an urge of murder. I know she could kill me with one quick motion.

With my legs depilated, I get the permission to drop onto a stool and my armpits are taken care of. Then Birte offers me a dark blue flask.

“For your teeth,” Birte says. “Rinse your mouth.”

I obey her, take a sip and then spit the refreshing minty fluid out into the bathtub. My teeth feel clean like never before.

I pull on a strapless gown of a pale blue colour with beading on the front. It’s made of satin fabric. The corset lifts my breasts so they almost pour out.

“You look like an empress,” Lanee says.

I shudder at her voice. “Thank you.”

“My mother was like you, but unfortunately I got my looks from my father.” There’s a pinch of humour in her voice.

My hand searches for hers. I realise I should have asked her so many questions. Yet I didn’t ask them. The answers could help me survive on this hostile planet or maybe even return to mine.

“We…” I squeak. “I need…”

“Smile,” Lanee says. “You are beautiful. Zaria’s men will love you at first sight.”

Birte shoves my back with her fist, knocking the air out of my lungs. “Move.”

Vahan

Arnau, the commander of my troop, puts his elbows on his thighs then straightens and roams his eyes over the stage in the middle of the tent and then over all the gathered men and women—fifteen in total.

He hates the auctions.

I hate them too, but I need a cleaner. The private part of my house is in appalling condition, all dirty and covered in cobwebs.

Birte walks onto the stage and stands near the edge. Her dry lips curl into a parody of a smile.

“We have a foreigner on sale,” she says and nods.

My heartbeat speeds up. Excitement fills my veins.

I’ve never seen a foreigner.

The buyers murmur their excitement, the growls and a few shouts follow.

“Be quiet you all,” Grigor, my neighbour, growls.

“Seventy,” Mirius, my other neighbour, roars. “Seventy for the foreigner.”

“The auction hasn’t started yet,” Grigor says. “And by the way, I’m going to buy her.”

Laughter fills the tent.

No fucking way. I’m going to buy her. I steel myself like I’m going to fight. I’m all predatory instinct.

My glance meets Arnau’s. The boy flashes me a wide grin and nods like he knows my thoughts.

He’s the best warrior I’ve ever had. At the age of twenty, he’s the youngest commander in the district. He’s also my slave.

I trust him like he’s my blood brother though.

I sink deeper into the chair and put my hands on the armrests. Arnau runs his fingers through his short golden brown hair and I see his hand tremble.

He’s a fierce warrior, but the auctions bring bad memories to his head. I bought him when he was thirteen. I was twenty-nine and my father just made me the ruler of Nassara. He passed away soon after.

Arnau’s mother was raped and killed by the hunters and he watched it. I remember that scared kid who looked me straight in the eyes and said that he’d kill me one day. I knew then he’d be perfect as my soldier.

“Let’s start the auction,” Birte says.

I’ll kill that ruthless bitch one day.

I’ll kill her when I’m powerful enough to break all the laws.

Birte claps her dirty hands. “The foreigner.”

A slim short figure appears on the stage and I rise to my feet. My eyes fix on her. It’s true what they say about foreigners—they’re as beautiful as our goddesses.

She crosses her white arms over her large tits and steps back, but Birte shoves her forward.

“Her name is Alyssa,” Birte says. “She said her name was derived from a flower that grows in her homeland.”

Yes, Alyssa looks like the queen of flowers. I’ve never seen such white skin as hers. It reminds me of snow.

“One hundred,” Grigor rumbles.

Alyssa flicks her grey eyes over all the buyers, but I doubt she can even see anything. Fear radiates from her like it’s tangible.

It’s true what they say about foreigners—they’re tiny and fragile.

Why do our gods bring them to us? We need women so the people of our planet, Zaria, won’t become an extinct species. Our women are not very fertile and bear mainly boys. Our gods give us foreigners so we can breed. They serve us well and bear our daughters.

“She looks like she can’t even lift a dampened cloth,” Arnau says with sarcasm as two other offers muffle his voice.

The price rises up to two hundred.

It seems like I’ll buy a very expensive and useless cleaner today.

“Five hundred,” I roar.

Alyssa’s long curly hair of a platinum blonde shade is definitely worth that price. I’ve never seen such hair in people. Aniola birds have such plumage. They’re a rare species, kept mainly in captivity.

My race has black hair; Arnau’s kin has golden brown hair.

“She’s a virgin,” Birte says.

“Two thousand,” I roar.

Silence layers the tent, as crisp as the air in the mountains.

Arnau grins at me and nods several times.

The foreigner arches her thick dark eyebrows and I know I could even sell Nassara to have her.

The foreigner’s full lips part and I know I could kill my neighbours to have her.

Alyssa

A husky male voice rings in my ears as my mind whirls. The smell of male sweat envelops me. My surroundings waver.

Birte shoves me towards a row of chairs.

“Sit down,” she barks.

I collapse into the chair and drop my head.

I don’t know whether I’ve been sold or not because I didn’t understand the shouts around me. The people sitting around the stage are like a blur, but I could hear that husky powerful voice so distinct to all the others. The voice that ended the auction.

Lanee steps onto the stage and soon she drops into the chair beside me. Our hands tangle.

“A very rich man has bought us both,” she says. “Smile. He paid a fortune for you.”

I don’t want to smile. I want to see all those evil people including my buyer end up in jail with a life sentence. I want to see them suffer. No, I want them to die.

Gria takes a seat at my other side and soon Esi and Tmee join us. Two tall male figures climb the stairs that lead to the stage and the men approach us.

“Alyssa, Lanee,” Birte says.

I rise to my feet as my eyes travel to a man who looks about my age. I freeze then shake my head as his fierce emerald eyes widen at me. I could swear that I’m looking at a werewolf with a naked chest covered only by a square shield. He is all muscle. He is all male beauty. His perfect muscles bulge under his olive skin with each movement like he’s a wild cat. The narrow trousers he is wearing enhance the perfect build of his thighs.

One corner of his full lips crooks up.

“Arnau,” a husky voice says.

This is the voice that bought me. My eyes travel to the source of that voice, to the other man, and ice fills my veins at the sight of his scarred face. Two lines cross his olive unshaven cheek like someone has cut him with a knife. His blue eyes are even more wolf-like than Arnau’s. Yes, he looks like the alpha of a wolf pack. No, he looks like a ruthless killer.

“Arnau,” the man says. “Take them out of the tent.”

My jaw drops at his rough Italian. But this language suits him, suits his age—he looks thirty-five.

Lanee strokes my arm and our glances meet. There is peace in her eyes and I feel peace fall on my shoulders too. Then chills go down my spine as she smiles at me.

She leaps at Birte.

Time stops.

My heart stops beating.

My chest stops moving.

Lanee grabs the hilt of the dagger at Birte’s waist and removes it from the sheath in one motion, swerving. Birte jerks her hands up. Lanee slits her own throat in one quick firm movement. Her body descends to the floor and a pond of blood forms around her head. Arnau spurts towards her, kneeling on one knee. He turns his face to my buyer and shakes his head.

Blackness obscures my vision. I sway and lower to my knees.

“Arnau, take her the fuck out of here,” my buyer growls.

Arnau moves towards me and scoops me up into his arms. I feel weightless like the sea is cradling me. Then something invisible hits me hard, and it feels like a rock has struck me on the skull.

Vahan

She shakes, as her full lips turn white. Now I see how young she is. Right. I bought a kid. Arnau bows his head at me and carries her outside the tent.

What a fucking mess.

I have just bought a useless beauty and my other cleaner has decided to die.

I approach Birte and slap a sack of coins into her hand. “Bury her with all respects.”

“It would be cheaper to leave her for mountain hienasas,” Birte says.

“Bury her as the custom requires.” I take three more sacks of coins out of the bag hanging across my chest. “Two thousand and sixty.” Right. Now I have to find a good cleaner somewhere else.

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Vahan. Come to our auctions more often. We have a foreigner almost every lunar cycle.”

“If your whole livestock has such a short life expectancy like the cleaner I bought, I doubt I’ll return to do business with you.” I lean slightly forward. “Life is important, Birte. Respect it.”

She sends me a smile, and I know there is no conscience inside of her. My hands itch to twist her neck, but if I did, I’d be put in jail. For life. Too many lives depend on me.