Artemis' eyes fluttered open.
Cold. Hard. Unfamiliar.
She sat up abruptly, but a sharp pain shot through her skull, forcing a groan from her lips. Pressing a hand to her head, she tried to steady her breathing. Then, like a tidal wave, the memories of the night before crashed into her.
Her heart pounded. She wasn't dead.
Panic seized her chest as she scrambled to her feet—only to freeze in horror. Metal bars surrounded her on all sides.
A cage.
Her breath hitched. She pinched herself. Hard.
Nothing changed.
Her pulse quickened. Her hands trembled. She was trapped.
"Hey! You're disturbing my sleep. Keep it down," a voice snapped.
Artemis flinched and turned toward the sound. In a neighboring cage sat a middle-aged woman, her tired, hazel eyes glaring at her. Brunette hair fell messily over her shoulders, and her sunken expression made it clear—she had been here far too long.
"H-Hello…" Artemis stammered, desperation creeping into her voice. She inched closer to the bars separating them. "I think there's been a mistake. I-I'm not supposed to be here."
The woman studied her for a moment, then sighed, leaning back against the cage wall.
"We don't all belong here," she muttered. "But it doesn't matter. We're fated to die here."
Artemis followed her gaze to a small, grimy window high above them. The resignation in the woman's voice made her stomach churn.
"You're in the slave establishment, young lady."
The words hit like a hammer to her chest.
"S-Slave establishment?" Artemis' voice cracked, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.
Before she could fully process it, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air, bouncing off the cold walls and filling the building with dread.
She recoiled. "W-What was that?"
The woman barely reacted, her face etched with exhaustion. "That's the sound of a slave being branded."
Branded.
Artemis' blood ran cold.
The woman squinted at her through the dim light, her gaze flickering over Artemis' hands and legs. Then, her brows knitted together.
"You haven't been marked… yet."
Artemis staggered back, wrapping her arms around herself. Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps. Death would have been a mercy compared to this.
Then, the heavy creak of the main door sent a shiver down her spine. A tall, burly man strode inside, his presence enough to make the other slaves recoil. Without hesitation, the cage doors swung open with a metallic clang.
"All you animals, out! Time for your bath!" he barked.
The other slaves obeyed without question, trudging out of their cages with downcast eyes. But Artemis remained frozen in place, her arms still wrapped around herself.
The man's sharp eyes landed on her. His nostrils flared. Slowly, he approached.
The woman in the neighboring cage paled. "Hey, little girl," she whispered urgently. "Get out before he—"
Too late.
A rough hand seized Artemis' arm, yanking her forward. She stumbled, landing hard on her knees.
"I said, get up, bitch!" The man spat, grabbing her by the hair and hauling her to her feet.
Pain exploded along her scalp, but she barely had time to react before he shoved her forward, forcing her into the line of slaves.
The group was led outside into a vast, open yard, the sun blinding after the suffocating darkness inside. Artemis winced, blinking rapidly to adjust.
Then, her vision cleared.
The yard resembled a prison, enclosed by high walls with uniformed figures standing watch. But what truly caught her attention were the countless people clad in tattered, sack-like garments—slaves.
Unlike them, Artemis stood out in her black gown. Whispers rippled through the crowd. Pitying glances were cast her way.
They think I was kidnapped… not sold.
A sick realization settled in her gut.
A second man barked orders, leading them to an area where wooden buckets of water lined the ground. Artemis looked around in confusion—until she saw the other slaves stripping, men, women, and even children.
Her stomach lurched.
Then, she noticed the uniformed guards watching, their eyes glinting with something vile.
Disgust. Revulsion. Panic.
Artemis took a step back.
A strong hand clamped around her wrist.
"What do you think you're doing, pest?" the man from before growled.
She flinched, instinctively pulling away, meeting his gaze with a glare.
"Oh?" His lips curled into a smirk. "A feisty one, huh?"
His eyes roamed over her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Artemis' breath hitched in disgust.
No.
Another step back—only to collide with something solid. She barely had time to register the second man before a hard slap cracked across her face.
Pain exploded in her cheek. Her ears rang. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
The next thing she knew, fingers tangled in her hair, dragging her across the yard.
She screamed.
Other slaves turned away, powerless to help.
The middle-aged woman clenched her fists, sorrow flashing across her face—but she did nothing.
Artemis hit the ground with a painful thud as she was thrown into a dimly lit room.
"It looks like you need a lesson on how slave bitches should behave," the man sneered, stepping toward her with a sick grin.
Fear paralyzed her limbs. She scrambled back, pressing into the corner as he advanced.
Please, no.
A rough hand fisted her hair again, wrenching her forward. She barely registered the searing pain before he tore at her dress, ripping the fabric apart.
She gasped, arms instinctively wrapping around herself to preserve what little dignity remained.
His hands moved again—
A knock.
The man growled, irritation flashing across his face as he stormed to the door.
Artemis' heart pounded.
Run.
She frantically scanned the room, fingers closing around a splintered piece of wood. If he came back, she'd use it—consequences be damned.
"What?!" the man snarled at the intruder.
"S-Sir, the councilmen and guests have arrived. They want all the slaves ready—branded and unbranded," the voice stammered. "And… Mr. Quinn is here too, sir."
The man stiffened. His expression shifted from irritation to unease.
"Understood."
Then, his gaze flicked back to Artemis.
She gripped the splint tighter.
To her surprise, he merely clicked his tongue, retrieving a sack-like garment from a nearby crate and tossing it at her.
"Wear it."
Artemis hesitated.
"Meet me outside in ten seconds."
The door slammed shut.
Her hands shook as she pulled the rough fabric over her head, stuffing the wood splint into its folds.
Outside, the man wasted no time, grabbing her wrist and yanking her toward the center of the yard.
A wooden podium loomed ahead, rows of chairs placed before it. A shiver ran down her spine.
Auction.
She swallowed hard.
Please… let someone with a kind heart buy me.
The thought made her sick.
But deep down, she knew—
She had no other choice.