Chapter 16+17: The Auction Block

I woke up in a cage.

Not a metaphorical one. A real, iron-barred cage, suspended in a dimly lit warehouse. The air smelled of rust, sweat, and despair. My head throbbed, the drug still lingering in my system.

I wasn’t alone. There were other cages. Men and women, some naked, some in rags, all broken. We were in the Undercity. The part of the capital the nobles pretended didn’t exist.

Panic surged through me. Kaelen. Where was Kaelen?

I scanned the room. And then I saw him.

He was in a larger cage across from mine. He was shirtless, his hands bound with heavy chains. His face was bruised, his lip split. But he was awake. And he was watching me.

Our eyes met. In that glance, a thousand words were exchanged. Are you hurt? No. Are you afraid? Yes. Stay strong. I will get us out.

A door opened. Men in masks entered, leading a group of wealthy-looking buyers. Slavers. Traffickers. This wasn’t just kidnapping. This was an auction.

"Lot 42," a masked man announced, pointing to Kaelen. "Former Duke. Strong. Healthy. Broken, but trainable. Bidding starts at five thousand gold."

My heart stopped. They were selling him. Selling the Duke of Iron like cattle.

The buyers laughed. Bids flew. Ten thousand. Fifteen thousand.

Kaelen didn’t struggle. He stood tall, his chin lifted, his eyes burning with a hatred so pure it seemed to heat the air. He wasn’t looking at the buyers. He was looking at me.

Wait, his eyes said. Trust me.

But how could I trust fate when we were both trapped?

The bidding reached twenty thousand. Sold to a man in a red mask.

"Next," the announcer said, pointing to my cage. "Lot 43. The Duke’s bride. Pure. Untouched. Bidding starts at three thousand."

No.

I screamed, rattling the bars. "No! Don’t touch me!"

But my voice was weak. The buyers leaned in, inspecting me like merchandise.

Then, chaos erupted.

A explosion rocked the warehouse. Dust rained down from the ceiling. Screams filled the air.

Smoke bombs.

Through the haze, figures dropped from the rafters. Black-clad warriors. Kaelen’s elite guard.

They moved with lethal precision, cutting down the slavers. The red-masked buyer tried to run, but a blade pinned his coat to the wall.

One of the warriors smashed the lock on Kaelen’s cage. He burst out, grabbing a sword from a fallen slaver. He didn’t go for the exit. He came for me.

He shattered the lock on my cage with a single blow. I fell into his arms, trembling.

"Elara," he breathed, holding me tight. "I’ve got you."

"We need to go," I gasped.

"Not yet," he said, his eyes cold. "First, we burn this place to the ground."

He carried me out, stepping over bodies. The warehouse was engulfed in flames. As we emerged into the night air, the rain washing the soot from our faces, I realized something.

Sebastian Valerius hadn’t just tried to kill us. He had tried to break us. To sell us. To humiliate us.

But he had failed.

Because now, Kaelen wasn’t just fighting for power. He was fighting for revenge. And I was no longer just his prisoner.

I was his partner in war.

We didn’t return to the estate. It was compromised. Sebastian knew where we lived.

Kaelen took us to a safe house in the industrial district—a crumbling apartment above a closed factory. It was cold, damp, and smelled of oil. But it was off the grid.

For two days, we stayed hidden. Kaelen tended to his wounds, which had reopened during the fight. I cleaned them, my hands steady despite the fear.

"He will come for us again," Kaelen said on the second night. We were sitting on the floor, sharing a loaf of stale bread.

"Sebastian?"

"No," Kaelen said, his eyes dark. "The Emperor. Sebastian was just the bait. The Emperor wanted to see if I could be broken. If I could be sold. Now that I’ve escaped, he knows I’m a threat. He will send the Imperial Guard."

"What do we do?"

"We disappear," Kaelen said. "We leave the city. We go to the North. To the mountains."

"But your people..."

"My people are dead or loyal to the crown," he said bitterly. "I have nothing left but you."

He looked at me, his expression raw. "I failed you, Elara. I let them take you. I let them put you in a cage."

"You saved me," I said. "You came for me."

"Next time, I might not be fast enough," he whispered. "Next time, they might kill me. And if I die, you are alone."

"I’m not alone," I said, taking his hand. "I have you. Even if you’re gone, I have what you taught me. How to survive. How to fight."

Kaelen smiled, a sad, tired smile. "You are stronger than I gave you credit for."

He leaned in, kissing my forehead. "Rest. Tomorrow, we leave."

But we never made it to tomorrow.

That night, the door burst open. Not the Imperial Guard. Not Sebastian’s men.

Mercenaries. Rough, dirty, smelling of alcohol and violence. They weren’t here to arrest us. They were here to collect a bounty.

Kaelen fought, but he was weakened from his wounds. They outnumbered him. They hit him with a club, knocking him unconscious.

I screamed, trying to reach him, but a hand clamped over my mouth. A bag was thrown over my head.

The last thing I heard was Kaelen’s groan as he was dragged away.

And then, silence.

---

I woke up in a different kind of hell.

A basement. Damp, dark, filled with the sounds of rats scuttling. I was tied to a chair.

Across the room, Kaelen was chained to the wall. He was unconscious, his head hanging low.

A woman entered. She was short, stout, with a face like leather and eyes like flint. She wore a ragged dress and carried a whip.

"Well, well," she sneered. "The Duke and his doll. You’re worth a pretty penny, aren’t you?"

She walked over to Kaelen, poking him with the whip. He didn’t stir.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Leave him alone!"

The woman turned to me, grinning. "Or what, princess? You’ll cry?"

She walked over to me, lifting my chin with the tip of her whip. "You’re pretty. Maybe I’ll keep you. The Duke... he’s going to the mines. Or maybe the arena. Depends on how much he breaks."

She laughed, a harsh, grating sound.

"Enjoy your stay," she said. "Because no one is coming for you here. This is the Pit. And in the Pit, we eat the weak."

She left, locking the door.

I looked at Kaelen. He was still unconscious. Blood trickled from his temple.

Tears streamed down my face. But I didn’t sob. I didn’t beg.

I looked at the ropes binding my wrists. They were frayed. Old.

I began to work them loose. Slowly. Painfully.

I will save you, I promised silently. Just like you saved me.

And for the first time, I wasn’t the victim.

I was the hunter.