De l'esclave à la compagne

De l'esclave à la compagne

Eliza Selmer

225.3k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

Je m'appelle Quatre, oui, quatre, comme le chiffre. Bien sûr, ce n'a pas toujours été mon nom, mais depuis que j'ai été amenée aux enchères, c'est ainsi qu'on m'appelle et c'est ce que tout le monde connaît de moi.

Il y a longtemps, j'étais la fière fille de l'alpha et de la luna de Blue Moon, mais après que notre meute a été réduite en ruines, je suis devenue une parmi tant d'autres à attendre leur sort.

Vous voyez, ici, nous ne sommes plus des personnes. Nous ne sommes que des choses attendant le jour où nous serons achetées et où nous recevrons notre raison de vivre, que ce soit comme esclave, maîtresse, reproductrice, ou pire, une offrande.

Pendant des années, j'ai attendu le jour où je serais achetée et où je trouverais enfin ma raison de vivre, mais jusqu'à présent, cela n'est jamais arrivé. Les commissaires-priseurs disent que c'est à cause de mes yeux. Ils disent qu'ils rappellent aux acheteurs le diable et qu'ils craignent que si ils m'achètent, je ne ferai que leur apporter la ruine à eux et à leurs meutes. Jusqu'au jour où il m'a trouvée et m'a sortie de cet endroit après avoir dit une chose.

"Toi, avec ces yeux comme une lame, tu m'as apporté la ruine et à cause de cela, tu dois passer ta vie à expier."

Après cela, il est devenu ma raison d'être, mon sens, et chaque jour qui passait, je devenais de plus en plus avide. Combien de temps ces jours agréables vont-ils durer, surtout quand la conspiration monte et que la trahison se cache à chaque coin ?

Les craintes de ceux qui ne m'ont jamais achetée se réaliseront-elles, ou les chances seront-elles déjouées ?
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About Author

Eliza Selmer

Chapter 1

[Point de vue de Pandora]

« Pandora ! Pandora, réveille-toi ! »

La voix paniquée de ma mère résonne, et mes yeux s'ouvrent brusquement pour la trouver en train de tirer ma couverture.

« Maman », je murmure en frottant le sommeil de mes yeux. « Qu'est-ce qui se passe ? »

« Tu dois te lever maintenant. » Ma mère répond, me prenant et me tirant brutalement hors de mon lit. « Avant qu'il ne soit trop tard. »

En parlant, elle se déplace, me conduisant à travers ma chambre et dehors, l'odeur de sang et de fumée atteignant mon nez.

« Maman ! » je m'exclame tandis que le bruit de la lutte en bas me parvient. « Qu'est-ce qui se passe ? Où est Papa ? »

« Chut », ma mère siffle alors qu'un hurlement déchire l'air. « Tu dois être silencieuse, ma chérie, sinon… »

Elle n'a pas le temps de finir ses mots avant qu'un grand loup gris ne se précipite vers nous, la plaquant au sol et la clouant sur place.

Les yeux grands ouverts, je regarde tandis qu'elle lève ses mains griffues et frappe le loup, luttant désespérément pour se débarrasser de lui, en vain.

« Pandora », elle siffle, tournant son regard effrayé vers moi. « Tu dois partir ! »

Partir. Mais partir où ? Que se passait-il ici ? Qui étaient ces loups et que voulaient-ils de nous ?

« Maman », je m'exclame, essayant de faire un pas en avant mais m'arrêtant alors que ma mère lâche un grognement d'avertissement.

« Pars ! » Elle répète, sa voix remplie d'urgence. « Pars avant…ugh ! »

Les yeux grands ouverts, je regarde le loup qu'elle essaie désespérément de repousser mordre son épaule, déchirant facilement sa chair tendre et laissant une plaie béante.

« Maman ! » je hurle, regardant son sang commencer à se répandre sur le sol. « Non ! Arrête ! »

Ignorant les supplications insistantes de ma mère pour que je m'échappe, je me précipite en avant, prête à aider de n'importe quelle manière, mais une main s'enroule dans mes cheveux et me tire en arrière.

« Eh bien, eh bien », une voix profonde gronde tandis que la douleur me traverse. « Qu'avons-nous ici ? »

« Non ! » Ma mère crie tandis qu'elle me regarde, impuissante, être soulevée dans les airs par mon ravisseur. « Lâche-la… »

« Tais-toi ! » Celui qui me tient souffle, avançant et pressant un pied contre la tête de ma mère. « Tu fais trop de bruit. »

Lentement, il commence à appuyer tandis que son camarade maintient ma mère combattante en place. Pouce par pouce, son pied avance tandis que je me débats, essayant désespérément de me libérer et de l'aider jusqu'à ce qu'un craquement écœurant remplisse l'air et qu'elle cesse complètement de bouger.

Instantanément, je ressens une douleur me traverser, m'étouffer alors que la réalité de ce qui vient de se passer me frappe comme une tonne de briques.

« Non », je râle, les yeux remplis de larmes. « Non, ce n'est pas possible. »

À mes mots, un rire éclate chez celui qui me tient, et lorsqu'il me tourne pour que je puisse regarder dans ses yeux, ses lèvres bougent, formant deux simples mots.

« Réveille-toi. »

Haletant, je me redresse, les yeux grands ouverts pour me retrouver dans ma cellule à la maison des enchères où je vis depuis onze ans.

C'est froid ; ça sent la pisse et la merde, mais c'est le seul foyer que j'ai connu depuis cette nuit fatidique où tout m'a été arraché.

« Merde », je siffle en brossant des mèches de cheveux roux de mon front en sueur. « Cela fait longtemps que je n'ai pas fait ce rêve. »

Laissant échapper un long soupir, je ramène mes genoux contre ma poitrine, essayant de me calmer alors que mon cœur s'emballe et hurle de la douleur des souvenirs de cette époque, mais avant que je ne puisse trouver un quelconque réconfort, un bruit de cliquetis remplit l'air alors que Geoffrey, le principal garde qui surveille non seulement moi, mais tous les prisonniers attendant leur sort à la maison des enchères, frappe sa matraque contre les barreaux d'une cellule voisine.

« Réveillez-vous, bande de merdes ! » Il tonne, faisant autant de bruit qu'il le peut. « Aujourd'hui est un grand jour ! Levez vos fesses ! Arrêtez de traîner. »

En couvrant mes oreilles, je reste sur place tandis que ceux dans les cellules autour de moi obéissent aux ordres, se levant de leur position au sol et se rassemblant près de leurs portes pour attendre les gardes qui les libéreront et les conduiront aux bains afin qu'ils soient nettoyés et préparés pour les enchères.

D'une certaine manière, j'ai pitié de ces imbéciles, car certains arborent des regards d'espoir à l'idée d'être achetés, mais aucune bonne vie ne les attendait si cela arrivait. Non, les seuls qui assistaient aux enchères recherchaient trois choses :

Un jouet à utiliser à leur guise jusqu'à ce qu'ils s'en lassent et les jettent.

Une offrande pour obtenir quelque chose de précieux.

Ou un reproducteur pour aider à perpétuer leur lignée.

Aucune de ces options n'était attrayante, et elles se terminaient toutes par la souffrance.

Jusqu'à présent, j'ai eu la chance de ne pas être achetée parce que ceux qui posent les yeux sur moi me considèrent comme un présage de destruction pour eux et même leurs meutes.

« Quatre, » Geoffrey grogne, me tirant de ma rêverie. « Lève-toi et prépare-toi pour les enchères. »

« Pourquoi ? » je demande, le regard calme. « Tu sais aussi bien que moi que je ne serai pas vendue. »

Pendant un moment, il ne parle pas, me fixant, son regard se rétrécissant à cause de ma défiance.

« Tu me réponds ? » Il grogne, cherchant ses clés dans sa poche. « Dois-je te rappeler une fois de plus comment fonctionne cet endroit ? »

En hochant la tête, je baisse lentement les yeux vers mes jambes, couvertes de cicatrices des autres rappels que j'ai reçus. Sachant qu'elles aussi jouent un rôle dans le fait que je ne sois pas achetée.

Continue de me battre et de me détruire. Je pense intérieurement alors que la porte de ma cellule est arrachée, permettant à l'homme furieux d'entrer.

« Pour qui te prends-tu pour me répondre ? » Il grogne, attrapant le col de ma tunique déchirée et souillée pour me forcer à me lever. « Une merde comme toi que personne ne veut même... »

« Geoffrey. » La voix de la maîtresse déchire l'air, mettant fin à toute insulte supplémentaire et ruinant toute chance de passage à tabac. « Que t'ai-je dit à propos de l'endommagement des marchandises ? »

« Mais, maîtresse, » Geoffrey argue, gardant son regard rempli de rage fixé sur moi. « Celle-ci est connue pour causer des problèmes. Je faisais simplement... »

« Relâche-la. » La maîtresse ordonne, faisant se raidir le grand homme. « Maintenant. »

Souriant, j'attends que Geoffrey continue de me tenir en place, le désir de me battre dans ses yeux.

« Tu l'as entendue, » je murmure, voulant pousser encore plus pour qu'il désobéisse à sa maîtresse et garantisse que je ne puisse pas assister aux enchères le soir. « Relâche-moi. »

Ne me relâche pas. Je supplie, détestant que la maîtresse ait ruiné mon plan. Désobéis et...

« Plus tard, » il grogne, obéissant. « Plus tard, je te ferai payer ta désobéissance puisque nous savons tous les deux que tu ne seras pas vendue. Tu peux t'y attendre. »

Ayant fini de parler, il se met de côté et je trouve la maîtresse juste derrière lui avec une lueur étrange dans les yeux.

« Quatre, » elle murmure, utilisant le nom qui m'a été donné lorsque j'ai été amenée ici. « Tu seras notre star ce soir. »

Star. Qu'est-ce que cette femme racontait ? Avait-elle perdu la tête ? Elle savait aussi bien que moi que tout le monde m'évitait, alors pourquoi...

« Geoffrey, » la maîtresse continue, son regard restant fixé sur moi. « Assure-toi que les servantes la préparent soigneusement pour l'événement de ce soir. Ce sera le jour où ce parasite me rendra tout ce qu'elle a pris. »

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