The girl doesn't flinch.
Instead, she turns her head slowly and spits blood onto his boots.
The silence that ensues is suffocating.
The overseer’s expression flickers, only for a moment, but I see it. He had expected anger, fear, submission. Not defiance.
The girl exhales through her nose, storm-gray eyes like distant thunderclouds, and smiles again.
I hum low in my throat, watching her more closely now.
Yes. She is interesting.
I let the bidding climb higher. The vampire hesitates at fifty. The noblewoman raises her fan, indecisive.
I speak. "Sixty."
Deafening silence follows. No one bids against me.
The overseer clears his throat, recovered now, masking his irritation behind another polished smile. "Sixty gold to Lord Xirath Va’Therin. A fine acquisition, my lord."
The fine silver chain binding her wrists is thrust toward me. I take it.
She doesn't bow.
The dark elves glance between us, waiting for my reaction. I offer them nothing. Instead, I rise, my coils shifting over the stone floor, my presence alone enough to send the lesser nobles scurrying out of my path.
She doesn't step back.
Interesting.
The overseer’s lips curl. "A gift from the gods, perhaps." His gaze flickers to me, amused. "Or perhaps a curse."
I turn without answering.
I expect the girl to resist. To jerk away, to fight, to struggle against the inevitability of her fate.
She doesn't.
Instead, she matches my pace, silent, watchful, every muscle coiled for an opportunity that has not yet come.
I recognize that walk.
It is the stride of a hunter disguised as prey.
Fascinating.
We leave the pit behind, the voices of the traders fading into nothing. Only once we step beyond the iron gates does she finally speak.
Her voice is sharp, unbowed. "If you think I’ll kneel, you’ll be disappointed."
I glance down at her, considering.
Softly, almost absently, I murmur, "Little mouse, I don't want you to kneel. I want you to run."
She’s so small, a prey, like a little mouse.
She stiffens.