Chapter 61

Viviane

The day of the auction begins like any other, except instead of waking up and getting ready for school, I’m taken to a Bloodstone spa. If the circumstances were different, I might enjoy the pampering, but I know none of the treatments I’m being given are for my benefit. Instead they’re purely intended to make me as desirable as possible to the shifters at the auction.

The servants do not speak as they bathe me, filling a huge ornate tub with perfumed water and rose petals, then adding soaps that froth and foam at the surface. I can see the women attending me are mermaids from the brands on their ankles, but they are not as beautiful as the other girls in the brothel.

I wonder if this is yet another fate for my kind – if one is too dried up to produce pearls, but not lovely enough to fetch a high price as a pleasure slave. Instead they must help send the unlucky beauties to their terrible fates. I have to think this is the best deal a mermaid could hope for in Sangville, more preferable even than the surgeons who perform the Cut.

I try asking them questions as they wash me and massage my aching limbs, but they do not answer me, or show any indication that they can even hear me speak. After the bath I’m dipped in volcanic mud, scrubbed with dense salts shipped specially from the coast, and wrapped in seaweed like some sort of mermaid burrito.

They give me facials I could never dream of affording back home, erasing the few imperfections from my skin before painting me from head to toe with swirling whorls of shimmering paint. I realize they must have crushed pearls into the mix, because the paint glows like the moon itself. Next they affix small gemstones to my limbs, decorating me like a living canvas. When my body is finally deemed ready, they turn to my face, curling my long hair and making me over until I look like an airbrushed ad plucked from a beauty magazine.

The “clothes” they give me are little more than chains draped in convenient patterns, strands of gold dripping over my shimmering skin to cover my breasts and pubic mound. The effect is stunning, but in reality I understand the true purpose of the design. Anywhere a buyer may choose, they can latch onto my chains and lead me around like a dog on a leash – I even have a collar.

The final touch is a pair of delicate heels, in case my discomfort was not severe enough already. When I’m finally led out to join the other girls, I realize not everyone received the same degree of attention. Some of the others are wearing less, some more, but no one is as heavily decorated as I am. It seems I truly am the prize intended to headline the auction, and they weren’t making any bones about playing favorites.

The other girls gasp when they see me, but when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrors around the brothel I see only artifice. This is not true beauty, it is as shallow as everything else in this wretched city and I cannot find any virtue in it at all.

“All right girls,” The madame announces coolly, lining us up and observing the wares she’s about to sell with a cruel grin. “It’s almost show time. Now I want you all to remember that the better behaved you are for our patrons, the more you will be rewarded. Remember your lessons and do us all proud – or you will be punished.” She strides down the line, nodding with approval or making suggestions for improvements every now and then.

When she reaches me, however, she stops and her eyes light up like a child’s on christmas morning. “It’s no wonder you already captured an Alpha’s eye. You might be my highest sale yet.” She taps her pointer finger on the tip of my nose, “and remember, the rules are opposite for you – Damien likes a girl who puts up a fight.”

“Then I’ll be sure to be as obedient as possible.” I smile, preening.

Her glee fades slightly, but she doesn’t look truly perturbed, “We’ll just see about that.”

As she retreats back down the line, she continues her monologue. “Your service will begin immediately once you’re sold. Some patrons will want to take you into private rooms, but others might desire having you then and there – especially if you demonstrate the need for a firm hand.” She takes considerable pleasure in the shivers that move through some of the younger girls, “But trust me ladies, you would all prefer a single master to working in the brothels. Your goal is to get out of here – some of the shifters are very good to their pets, but I know for a fact that many of our nightly patrons are not.”

They march us out into the wings of a stage, shrouded by curtains and set to the sounds of men drinking and carousing. When the auction finally begins, it takes only moments to devolve into depravity. One by one the girls are marched out onto the stage, whether they go willingly or must be dragged kicking and screaming. They’re sold off to shifters with as much ceremony as a prize calf at market, their lives given no more consideration than a beast of burden. Their screams are met with laughter and derision, and before long, it’s my turn.

I walk out onto the stage with my head held high, trying to look as sweet and accommodating as I once was. It gives me no pleasure to hear the oohs and aahs of the audience. This is just another example of the curse of beauty, more proof of how drawing attention to oneself can bring only pain.

“Finally tonight, we have a very special treat for you.” The Madam announces. “The stunning Viviane, so fierce she attempted to lead an escape here just last night, and so lovely she’s already captured the heart of an Alpha, who claimed her as his mate. No virgin to be sure, but a mermaid well accustomed to serving the needs of even the most dominant wolves.”

Even as she speaks, I look out into the crowd and see one of the girls who was already sold – a sweet creature who is little more than a child, already being bent over a table by her new owner. She’s crying quietly, but obviously trying to be good as the Madam advised. I promised myself I would do the same, that I would not give them any excuse to sell me for more money, or show a defiant streak that might entice sadists like Damien. Yet as I watch the shifter behind her fumble with his zipper and hear the girl’s whimpers of fears, I cannot help myself.

Lunging towards the pair, I’m not sure what I intended, to protect her or attack him. All thought left my mind, I knew only that I had to act. I couldn’t stand by and watch while this happened. However nearly as soon as I moved, a weight like an anchor pulled me back – the guard’s hands fisted in my chains. Crying out with indignation, I curse the wolves and every being in the room. Venting my rage into the darkness, I’m surprised but relieved when the shifter in question releases the girl, and simply pulls her into the chair beside him, nodding happily towards the Madame.

Suddenly I realized he hadn’t actually intended to rape the poor girl in front of an audience, but had planned the terrifying ordeal with the brothel proprietress to get a rise out of me. Horror floods me as I realize I played right into their hands, putting on a show for their Alpha, and naming myself a rebel.

I certainly never thought I could earn such a title. I’ve only ever been good – I submitted to my slavery for so many years without complaint. How had it happened that I became this person? How did I go from being a complete wallflower to the center of attention in this macabre cabal?

“There now.” The Madam says, “Even though she promised me she wouldn’t set a foot out of line backstage –just to spite me mind you – she just can’t help herself.”

Before any bids can be made, the Madam looks up to the VIP booth on the mezzanine, gesturing to me with an open palm. A shadow rises from an ornate throne, and slowly a mountain of a man emerges through the darkness.

He isn’t what I expected. Younger, more handsome than I imagined such a wretched person could be, but undoubtedly radiating power. He looks as if he could crush me in one hand, and that’s coming from someone who spends all her time with the strongest Alpha in the Nightshade pack’s history.

When Damien looks at me, I see no warmth, no kindness in him at all. There is only raw strength and unbridled malice. He smiles at the Madam and nods in approval, sealing my fate once and for all.

“Sold!” She cries. “To Alpha Damien.”