Page 3 of Dark Elf's Good Girl

I can feel his eyes on me. His gaze feels relentless, and I know he is following every move that I make.

I pull myself to the top of the pole and then grip the pole with my thighs as I arch my back and stare at the ground. I am still holding onto the pole with my hands, and I relax my legs, sliding down the pole and landing in a split again.

I get up to the sounds of applause, cheering, and raucous whistles.

The support I get from the patrons of the clubs, especially the regulars, is really good for my confidence.

I am walking towards the edge of the stage again when I look up and see the dark elf who was staring at me.

He grins at me, and his smile is frighteningly strange and in the next second, I find myself stumbling slightly.

I catch myself quickly, but I know that the club manager and club staff would have noticed the mistake.

They’re everywhere, analyzing all the dancers, and mistakes are not tolerated.

I keep looking at the dark elf as I finish my act, and I am not sure why I feel so drawn to him.

I have no feelings towards him – I don't even know his name – but his strange smile is fascinating.

Don’t mess up again, I tell myself sternly as my hips roll and sway with every step I take.

You can’t afford to lose this job.

My life before working at the club was shrouded in darkness. My life before working at the club was filled with emotions I never want to experience again.

I slip off the stage when the music slows, and the spotlight above the stage goes out. I am the only dancer to occupy stage one.

Memories of life before the club rush surge up in my mind and I shiver away from them.

But I cannot.

There are moments when the horrors of my past catch up with me because I’ve been running from them for years. I come to a stop, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. And for a moment, I allow myself to remember.

I only became a dancer because my mother and sister both died from an illness.

We were poor even before they died, and we used to hawk our wares close to the entrance to the Red District.

I was only a teenager when I started getting attention from human adult men, and even dark elves, because of my body.

Becoming a dancer was my only option. I couldn’t live with the idea of being bought as a sex slave.

When I turn around and peek out at the crowd, I can see that that same dark elf, the one with the yellow eyes, is staring at me.

He smiles again, and my heart flutters with fear.

Is he going to buy me for the night?

AIKEN

THANK THE THIRTEEN THAT’S OVER.

I exhale heavily with relief and exhaustion as Calix, and I step into the entrance hallway of the manor.

My brother does not walk up the hallway with me. Instead, he pulls off his coat and jacket and loosens his tie.

Then he turns right around and heads out of the house.

“Good riddance,” I mutter with disgust, as he gets into a carriage and heads off to the Gods only know where.

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