I needed to stop glaring at the Elves inspecting me and the line of other slaves, their mouths pursed as they tutted about our appearances, or I was going to get caught. Sharp-eared assholes. Taking a slow breath, I imagined stabbing my bone sword deep into the heart of the Elven female eyeing me with distaste. Her blood would match the crimson dress she held next to my face and everyone would scream as she collapsed, scattering as I pulled my blade free and advanced on them… It was a pleasant thought and gave me enough wherewithal to plaster on a vacant smile as they inspected the woman beside me. Not that I had my beloved sword or even clothes. I was alone in enemy territory. Defenseless. And it was my fault.

My adopted brother, Gavril, had begged me not to take the mission, to let someone else go instead. All of them had. They thought I’d blow it within an hour if I saw the Marshal… But I’d insisted, and when that didn’t work, I’d slipped out of the hideout without permission, only leaving a note explaining where I’d gone. Now here I was, standing naked in front of a group of Elvish cunts as they decided which slaves to pick as prizes for the winners of the gladiator games, attempting to prove all of them wrong.

But it would all be worth it if I could complete the mission.

“They’re all so dirty,” a female Inferi Remnant complained. “How’re we supposed to tell what they look like under this muck?” She wore golden silks, her horns polished to a shine. A royal concubine, for sure.

“The same way I did with you, Zija.” The lead Elven woman replied in a tiresome tone as she stopped at the slave next to me, lifting one of her breasts with a single finger and frowning. “A few piercings can cover a lot of issues, can they not?”

The courtesan started to lift a hand to the hoop in her nose before she caught herself and narrowed her eyes. “These slaves are an embarrassment, Carita. We need the best for today. Rhazien wants everything to be perfect.”

My ears pricked at the name of the governor of the desert city, though he was better known as the ‘Beast’ to me and my cohort.

“Mind your tongue.” Carita snapped. “I don’t care who you’re fucking, you’re not in charge here. I am. Understand?”

I held in a laugh at the Inferi Remnant’s expression. Did she really think that an elf would treat her as an equal just because she was in the Governor’s harem? The arrogant bastards thought they were better than anyone else and had fought a war with the gods to prove it.

“Then it’ll be on your head,” Zija responded with a sneer as she swept out of the room, a few other similarly dressed Remnants falling in behind her.

Carita laughed under her breath, waving away her assistant’s questioning look as she continued down the line.

“Name and age?” The assistant asked, not even looking up at me from the ledger she carried.

“Kael. Twenty-four,” I answered, my tone just a touch too hostile, and she glanced up at me sharply. I gave her a bland smile, hoping I’d covered my mistake. Before Orya died, I’d been able to fake it. To keep my head down and survive. But that part of me had died with her and now all I wanted to do was fight, regardless of the consequences.

“This one is interesting,” Carita said, stopping in front of me.

I studied her as she inspected me; her hair was dark and straight, flowing down to her waist, her dress black and red with golden touches. A member of the royal household, then. She was tall and beautiful, as all the Elves were. Perfect in her immortality. Something they’d stolen from all the Remnants.

She stepped closer, scrutinizing my features. Her metallic eyes seemed to take in every detail of my body, absorbing it all as she categorized each flaw. She ran her fingers through my long silvery hair, causing a gentle shiver to run down my spine.

“This one has a unique look,” Carita said finally. “What are you, a Wraith Remnant? Or maybe a Sirin?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. My father had been human and my mother had died when I was a toddler. The rest was a mystery.

“No matter. This one should work with a few changes. She will be our ‘Desert Lily.’ With her skin and hair, it fits.” She listed a few criticisms about my appearance that her assistant jotted down.

I clenched my jaw, which according to her was too sharp, determined not to punch the Elves talking about me like I was chattel. To them, I was.

“Step over here,” another elven woman barked as Carita made her way down the line, selecting more women and men to join me on the other side of the room. A Sirin Remnant with olive skin and lavender hair pulled back into a tight bun shuffled over to stand beside me. Shimmery scales dotted her face, glistening with the tears silently streaming down her cheeks. She stood so still—only her hands trembled as her breath stuttered—that it seemed like she barely even registered what was happening around her.

I wanted to reach out, to comfort her. But I hesitated. How did one comfort someone who’d been reduced to a possession? To be used by others however they wished? Anything I said would be a lie.

I leaned closer and caught her eye, though my voice came out more awkward than comforting. “It’s going to be alright,” I said, wishing it was true, even as the lie tasted like ash in my mouth.

“It’s not.”

Her voice was so soft I barely heard her. “Just stay close to me. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

She stared at me dubiously before nodding. “What’s your name?”

“Kael.”

She wiped her eyes as she stared at me. “I’m Aella,” she whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

My heart ached, memories of Orya crowding my mind. She’d been a Sirin Remnant, and too soft for Adraedor, just like the woman beside me. I wanted to protect Aella, as I hadn’t been able to protect my best friend.

“Why are they choosing so many?” She whispered, her eyes darting around at our growing group.

I shrugged, a shiver of worry snaking through me. There were at least thirty slaves selected, almost quadruple the amount of the last games. Atar’s balls. What was going on? I didn’t even have time to wonder how monumentally I’d fucked up before the lead woman spoke again, directing us to follow her. A few of the unselected women looked disappointed, but most sagged with relief to have not been chosen.

Aella whimpered as we followed Carita into the hallway, her movements shaky. We were somewhere deep in the colosseum; the sounds of the gathering crowd were muffled but still recognizable. I couldn’t smell any blood or animal waste, so we weren’t near the gladiator barracks. The walls were made of the same red stone as the exterior, without the fancy adornments in the arena itself. It was still grander than anything I’d ever known.

Carita opened a door, and a blast of humid air hit me, so foreign that I didn’t understand the sensation of moisture coating my skin initially. Aella cried out, seeing what I couldn’t.

“Stop.” The elf’s voice rang out, cracking like the whips we were all familiar with. “Over here first.”

Aella’s shoulders fell as she moved with the rest of the group, and I could see what had captivated her. Massive pools of water spread throughout the room, the floor tiled in the colors of the royal house, with stairs leading into the baths. I hadn’t seen this much water since before the Niothe sent me to the desert. Not even the Water Forums in the wealthy parts of Adraedor boasted this much clean water.

I tore my eyes away from clear pools and looked around, noting the exits and potential weapons as they directed us to a table laden with cups and bowls, filled to the brim with drinks and food. Honeyed locusts were piled next to skewers of spiced fruits and tureens of tortoise soup. There wasn’t a sign of seffa anywhere and I swallowed against a dry throat, my stomach growling.

“Drink and eat. Slowly.” Carita warned, eyeing us with undisguised scorn. “I don’t want any of you drinking the bathwater and getting too sick to service whichever lord selects you.”

Shit. Something big had changed. I’d assumed the games would be the same as usual, no one daring to beat the Beast in the arena, with him claiming all the trophies for himself. This was bad.

The others stayed back, no doubt expecting a trick. Water wasn’t given freely in Adraedor. Every drop had to be earned. To see so much just waiting to be soiled by our bodies while so many in the city died of dehydration made me sick, but I strode forward anyway and selected a goblet. I drank deeply, letting the cool, clear water wash away the grit that always seemed to coat my tongue. The liquid hit my empty stomach with a pang, but I didn’t stop until I’d drained the entire cup, reaching for the jug to fill it once more. Aella joined me, no longer hesitant, as she clutched her cup close to her chest.

“What if it’s poisoned?” Aella whispered, eyes wide with worry.

“It smells fine,” I said. The water was cold and refreshing, and the food looked incredible—better than anything I’d ever seen before. “Besides, if they wanted to get rid of us, they could have done that already.”

I picked up a skewer of spiced fruits and took a bite, savoring the sweet and tangy flavors that burst on my tongue. It was so good that I forgot my fear for a moment, until Aella prodded me in the ribs, reminding me of our situation as she glanced pointedly at the Elves.

Carita and the others mocked us in Elvish, either unknowing or uncaring that I understood them.

“It’s fine,” I whispered. “They’re just laughing at how we’re eating.” She looked at me dubiously before eating as well.

I picked up a bowl of soup, humming in pleasure with the first sip of the silky broth. Living in hideouts had its drawbacks, and one of those was living on seffa and dried meat.

“How do you know what they’re saying?” Aella asked.

“I learned Elvish when I lived in Haechall—”

“Now into the baths.” Carita interrupted me to direct us into the pool, her voice laced with a hint of cruel amusement as she watched those born in the desert approach with trepidation. I went in, eager to be clean for the first time in years. Aella hesitated at the edge, face pale and eyes wide as she looked around her. I reached out a hand, beckoning her closer.

“It’s alright, it’s not too deep.” I called, and she stumbled forward until she was standing next to me waist-deep in the water. She blinked rapidly, tears spilling down her cheeks as she gazed around us in wonder.

“I’ve never—” She stopped a sob in her throat that tore through me. Sirins had ruled the sea; water was their home. For one to have never felt the sensation of cool water lapping around her… Unsure how to comfort her, I patted her shoulder and slipped under the water to avoid saying the wrong thing.

The others followed suit, some still fearful but none daring to refuse Carita’s orders. I floated languidly, memories of my early childhood drifting back to me. Of the days I’d spent swimming in streams with my father, the sun on my skin warm and comforting, not the fearsome orb it was here. I couldn’t remember much of him anymore, half of my memories of my father blending with Haemir, but I remembered his smile as he taught me to swim, splashing in the city fountain together as water cascaded from the fey statues. Caurium had been beautiful before it burned.

“Clean yourselves.” Carita’s voice snapped me out of my reverie, directing us to scrub ourselves with the bars of soap provided. The sand washed from my body coated the bottom of the pool and I wiggled my toes to dislodge it from my feet. It had been almost fourteen years since I didn’t have grit on some part of me and I hated that I was grateful to the Elves for giving me this moment.

This was their way of controlling us. They would take and take, breaking us down until simply being clean felt like a blessing, blinding us to the other offenses they committed against us.

I stepped out of the pool, water streaming down my too thin body, and Aella followed me reluctantly.

“I didn’t know.” She touched her hair, marveling at the drops of water on her fingers. Anger licked through me like flames. The Elves had stolen so much from her. From all of us. I snatched my towel out of the attendant’s hands and stomped over to the adjoining room, where more slaves waited with supplies to prep our bodies.

“You. Come here.” One motioned for me and I stalked over to her, flopping onto the leather bench before she asked me to.

“What?”

She raised a delicate brow but didn’t respond to my attitude.

“Give me your arm.” I did and watched as she spread a thick, waxy substance onto it before yanking it away, and taking all the fine hairs on my skin with it.

“Vetia’s horns!”

She rolled her eyes as I glared at her. “Calm down. It’s just wax.”

Fuck, that hurt. I took a deep breath, blocking out the pain. I could do this. Just one more step until I killed the Beast and set our plans in motion.

“Fine.”

I clenched my teeth as she guided me into new positions to remove my body hair from the neck down. I kept quiet even as she ripped almost all the pale hair from between my legs, only leaving a small triangle of curls at the apex of my folds. No part of my body was untouched; every inch was plucked, polished, and trimmed before they covered me in scented oils until my pale skin glimmered like pearls. I felt even more vulnerable than when I’d worked in the mines—as if my skin was too thin and would break apart at the slightest touch.

Carita approached, nodding at my curling hair that cascaded down my shoulders. “Excellent work. Now, let’s begin her enhancements. Sit.”

She grabbed a pair of strange tongs and held them next to my chest as I watched in trepidation. With a swift motion, she clamped my nipple and I shouted. Ignoring my exclamation, she pierced it horizontally and threaded an electrum ring through behind the needle, keeping enough pressure that it would stay in place as she spun the opal bead to close it.

“Ydonja’s stars, that hurt.” I hissed, my eyes welling up with tears as Carita inspected her work, tugging on the ring. I couldn’t hold in a growl as she did the other breast, her movements as practiced as before. Her eyes narrowed in concentration before flooding black until no whites or irises remained as she touched the opals simultaneously, power flowing from her as magic activated the stone and metal. My breasts heated and swelled painfully, growing from their modest handfuls to enough to fill even the palms of a Zerkir Remnant.

She smiled, her mouth twisting into a satisfied expression as she motioned for me to stand up. My newly augmented breasts were heavy on my chest and flushed as the intention of her magic took root inside me. I’d known I would be on the receiving end of some enchantments. I just wasn’t expecting this. My body felt wrong.

“If you all want us to have bigger tits, then you should feed us more.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could call them back and I winced, hearing my brother’s voice in my head. Too foolhardy, Kael.

“If I wanted to give you a tail, I could.” Carita smirked, her lips curving into a cruel smile. “Don’t tempt me.”

I dropped my gaze to avoid making eye contact with her, my urge to retaliate growing stronger. If I saw that smirk, I’d slap her and ruin everything. I could sense her delight in my obedience, and my self-control began to slip away. I nodded, and the laugh she couldn’t contain only increased my need to attack her. To dominate her and show her I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.

“Good,” Carita said. “Turn your head to the side. Oh, your ears are already pierced. They’re permanent. Hmmm.” She inspected them, a line forming between her brows as she concentrated before glancing at me when I spoke.

“Why are you piercing my ears?”

“To prevent you from conceiving. And to keep your body hair from growing back.” She answered, her gaze going far away as if deep in thought before she shook herself. She pierced my ears again, heat running through them to the rest of my body as she threaded more electrum rings and opals through my lobes. I knew different metals and stones were used in their magic, like all the slave collars had onyx, for example, but I didn’t know what anything did. I assumed it had some healing effects since my breasts had already stopped aching, but that was only my best guess.

One of her assistants approached with a tray of more metal rings and gems, an array of needles beside them. I cringed, wondering what horrors she’d wreak on me next.

She gripped my chin, turning my head from side to side before motioning the girl onward. “Her face is suitable now that it’s clean. Only one piercing left.”

Joy.

“Spread your legs.”

“What?” I asked in alarm, instinctively closing them.

She gestured to where Aella clutched the bench tight as an Elf threaded a ring through the hood of her clitoris.

“Oh, fuck no.” I tried to stand, and she grasped me by the arm, holding me in place.

“It’s a kindness,” Carita explained, a hint of pity entering her expression, at odds with her brusque demeanor. “It’ll make you enjoy any… attentions you receive.”

I glared at her, disgust and shame swirling in my stomach. Over the years, I’d said a lot of cruel things about the concubines kept by the nobles, their bodies water-fat and soft. Cetena’s scales. It was bad enough to be assaulted, but to be made to like it… I didn’t realize just what a mind-fuck they had to deal with. Could I do this? Even to complete my mission? I didn’t plan on fucking the Beast. Only getting close enough to kill him…

“Fine.”

I spread my legs and waited for the pain. Gritting my teeth didn’t prevent a groan from escaping me as she pierced my delicate flesh, spinning the stone in place. I waited for the pain to subside, as it had in my breasts, but it didn’t.

“Why isn’t it healing?” I hissed as she gestured for an assistant to bring my dress, a column of white fabric so sheer that I could see through both layers easily.

“Your lord will activate it to the level he desires.” She answered, looking over the floral hair pieces the attendant had brought, selecting two white desert lilies. “Put these in her hair. And hurry, we have to present them in less than an hour.”

Finally.

The attendant helped me tug the dress on, looping the fabric over my neck and crossing my breasts, leaving my stomach bare as she wrapped my hips in more sheer fabric and arranged my hair. All the other slaves were dressed similarly in an array of colors, each with a unique flower in their hair, their dresses, and sarongs displaying all their freshly waxed flesh. There weren’t any mirrors for me to inspect myself, but judging from the changes in the others, I wouldn’t recognize what I saw anyway. Gone were the waifish, dirty slaves of before. Now their bodies appeared toned and curvaceous, with plump lips and glossy hair.

“Line up. Quickly.” Carita demanded as she looked us over, her expression nowhere near as sanguine as before when she’d told Zija off for dismissing this crop of concubines. Aella walked to stand beside me, choosing her steps carefully to avoid jostling her new piercing. I clicked my tongue, my nerves getting the best of me, as Carita led us out the doors back into the hallway.

I followed our procession through the colosseum halls, noting all the turns, past the vendor stands filled with human ‘guests’ from all corners of the empire. The press of people grew thicker as Carita led us to the viewing platform opposite the royal booth, where we’d be displayed for the entire arena. Aella shivered beside me despite the blast of heat as we went outside and I gripped her hand.

Movement in the royal box caught my attention as a man clad in leather and bone armor stood, towering over the others. His black hair flowed loose on his wide shoulders, framing a face that didn’t hold any kindness. It was hard, outlined with barely restrained anger that promised pain and destruction to his enemies. His bronze eyes glimmered in the sunlight like molten gold as he made his way across the platform to where an Elf I didn’t recognize sat on the throne. Theron Axidor, the Marshal of this hell and my personal nightmare.

My lip curled as he smirked and I had to fight to keep from vaulting over the banister to attack him, regardless of the consequences. But I held back, forcing myself to think of the mission instead. This was why the others didn’t want me here. They didn’t believe I’d be able to handle seeing him again after what had happened.

I took a shuddering breath as Carita moved us into place on the viewing platform and Theron’s gaze settled on me. His lips twisted into a wry grin that made my heart pound in my chest, the urge to end him almost overwhelming. I glared back, unable to school my features to anything other than rage. My brother was right. I shouldn’t have come. And now I was going to get myself killed.