Page 57 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

"I don't belong to you anymore." My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

His lips curve into an indulgent smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Everything in my collection belongs to me. Always." He gestures to the brand on my wrist. "Or have you forgotten whose mark you wear?"

"That mark means nothing. I'm free now."

"Free?" He laughs, the sound rich and cruel. "You're as free as a painting that's walked out of its frame. I simply need to put you back where you belong."

I back away until I hit the wall. Two more demons block the alley entrance behind Valek, their massive forms casting long shadows.

"Your northern friends can't protect you here." Valek's perfectly manicured fingers trace the ritual scars on his hands - ancient patterns I remember all too well. "It's time for you to fix what you've done."

I press myself against the rough stone wall, heart hammering. His golden eyes bore into mine as he closes the distance between us, each soft chime of his hair ornaments marking another step closer to my capture.

"You were such a perfect addition to my collection." Valek trails a finger down my cheek. I jerk away from his touch. "But now? The time and resources spent hunting you down have exceeded your value."

My stomach drops at the cold calculation in his voice. This isn't the possessive collector I remember - this is something worse.

"Perhaps I can still salvage something from this investment." He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "The slave markets always need fresh merchandise. I hear there's quite the demand for educated humans these days."

I slam my knee up, but he catches my leg before I make contact. His fingers dig into my thigh, claws pricking through the fabric of my dress.

"Oh you've got that delightful spirit back. The buyers will enjoy breaking that. Just like I did." Horrid memories wash over me at those words, sending my body shaking. He shoves me backward into the waiting arms of his guards. "Take her to the auction grounds. And do try not to damage her too badly - I'd like to recoup at least some of my losses."

The demons' rough hands clamp around my arms like stone bands. I thrash and kick as they drag me from the alley, my feet barely touching the ground. They take my bag, too, and I lose all my leverage with it.

"Let me go!" I drive my heel into one guard's knee. He grunts but doesn't loosen his grip.

"Keep fighting, pretty thing." Valek's voice floats after us, those cursed bells in his hair chiming with each step. I forgot how the sound made me nauseous. "It will only drive up the bidding."

We emerge onto a dirt road leading away from the city. My struggles grow more desperate as I spot the auction grounds ahead - rows of wooden holding pens packed with miserable figures awaiting sale.

"No!" I twist and writhe, not caring about the bruises forming under the demons' grip. "I won't go back to being property!"

One guard cuffs me across the face. "Shut up, human."

Blood fills my mouth but I keep fighting, kicking up clouds of dust as they haul me toward the pens. The red sky seems to mock my efforts, painting everything in the color of fresh wounds.

I don't get away. Instead, rough hands shove me into a dimly lit tent. Two women - human, but with the dead-eyed stare of long-time slaves - strip my clothes without ceremony.

"Arms up," one barks when I resist.

"Please, I-" A sharp slap cuts off my words.

"Quiet. Master Valek wants you presentable."

They force me into a gauzy dress with fabric so thin it might as well be air. My skin prickles in the cool evening breeze that cuts through the tent walls.

"Hold still." The second woman drags a brush through my dark hair, yanking out the tangles. "Though I doubt they'll care much about your hair when they can see everything else."

They paint my lips red, line my eyes with kohl. Every touch makes my skin crawl. I'm being packaged, prepared like meat for market.

Through the tent walls, I hear Valek's distinctive voice, the soft chime of his hair ornaments carrying clearly.

"...quite the prize. Not only educated, but she spent months living among the northern demons. Specifically, with that metalworker everyone's so curious about."

"The one making those peculiar trinkets?" A new voice, oily and eager. "How fascinating. And you say she's unmarked besides your brand?"

"Pristine condition. Though she's developed some... unfortunate habits during her time away. Nothing a firm hand won't correct."

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