Meira’s fingers wrap around my wrist like a shackle.
We’re walking through the streets of Loln at a measured pace, but her grip doesn’t loosen for a second. Not painful, exactly, just unyielding. A constant reminder that I’m tethered to her, that she decides where we go and when we stop.
The city unfolds around us in ways I’m still trying to process. Buildings lean close overhead, their upper floors jutting out far enough that the street feels more like a canyon than a thoroughfare. The cobblestones are worn smooth from god only knows how many years of foot traffic, and the air carries a mix of cooking smells, animal scents, and the underlying musk of too many bodies packed into too little space.
But it’s the people that keep stealing my attention.
Beastfolk. Everywhere.
A woman with sleek black fur covering her arms passes us on the left, her feline ears twitching as she navigates the crowd. Her face is human, but those ears and the tail swishing behind her make it impossible to mistake her for anything ordinary.
A woman stands outside a shop ahead, deep in conversation. She has scales running up her neck and along her jaw, catching the light in iridescent patterns. She reminds me of Silvy.
A group of women with wolf ears similar to the ones who enslaved me cluster near a fruit stand, their tails wagging as they haggle with the vendor.
My eyes keep moving, cataloging details faster than my brain can fully process them. Horns curved like a ram’s. Skin that shimmers with an unnatural sheen. Eyes that glow faintly even in daylight. Wings folded against backs. Claws instead of fingernails.
It’s overwhelming. Beautiful and alien in equal measure.
Meira’s grip shifts slightly on my wrist, drawing my attention back to her. Her pale silver eyes sweep across the crowd with practiced ease before landing on my face.
“Which ones look the most attractive to you?”
The question catches me off guard. I blink, my gaze moving from her face back to the street, trying to figure out if this is a test.
“Honestly?” I pause, watching a woman with deer antlers duck into a shop. “They all seem hot.”
Meira makes a sound in the back of her throat. Not quite a laugh, but close. Disbelief mixed with amusement.
“Even that one?”
Her free hand comes up, pointing across the street.
I follow the direction of her finger and my brain stutters to a complete halt.
The woman standing near a weapons stall is massive. Seven feet tall, easily. Maybe more. Her skin is deep crimson, the color so vivid it almost looks like it’s glowing in the afternoon light. A single horn protrudes from the center of her forehead, thick and curved slightly backward. Her hair is black, pulled back in a ponytail that falls between her shoulder blades.
But what really stops me is the sword.
She’s holding a two-handed greatsword in one hand, resting the blade against her shoulder like it weighs nothing. The weapon has to be as tall as I am, the steel catching light along its edge, and she’s holding it with the casual ease of someone carrying a walking stick.
Her eyes are black, except for the red irises that burn in the center like coals.
My feet stop moving.
“Is she an option?” The words come out before I can think them through.
Meira’s head snaps toward me. Her silver eyes are wide, genuine shock written across her face.
“Wait.” She pauses, and I watch her try to process what I just said. “I was kidding. Would you actually fuck an Oni?”
“Can I?” The question tumbles out immediately. “Do you see her? She’s gorgeous, Meira.”
Meira stares at me like I’ve just announced I want to jump off a cliff for fun.
“You...” She trails off, her mouth opening and closing without sound. “Vincent, that’s an Oni.”
“You said that already.”
“They’re dangerous.”
“Meira, she’s red!” I say it like that explains everything.
Meira’s grip tightens on my wrist. “Vincent, humans hate Onis.”
“Not this one! Don’t put me in a box, Meira. I’ll go over there right now and see if she’s down to clown.”
“No.” Her voice drops to that dangerous quiet. “Of course not. Onis hate humans worse than the Drow do.”
I look at the crimson woman again. The way she moves, the casual confidence in how she handles that massive sword. The burn of those red eyes.
“Listen, I’m not much of a player, alright?” I turn back to Meira, meeting those pale silver eyes. “But sometimes you gotta grab life by the horn.”
I nod toward the Oni’s forehead, where that single curved horn catches the light.
“Let me go talk to her, Meira. Maybe she’s loaded.”
The words barely finish leaving my mouth before Meira moves. Her hand releases my wrist only to grab my shirt, and suddenly I’m being pushed backward. My spine hits the wall of the nearest building hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
She’s right there, her face inches from mine, and the warmth falls from her expression.
“You think you’re ready for someone like that?” Her voice is ice. “You were ready to fall asleep after three rounds this morning.”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out. The truth of it lands like a punch to the gut.
“That woman could break you in half without trying,” Meira continues, her pale eyes boring into mine. “And you want to walk up to her and what, Vincent? Charm her with your winning personality?”
“I just thought...”
“No.” She cuts me off. “You didn’t think. That’s the problem.”
The crowd continues flowing around us, people giving us a wide berth as they pass. Nobody seems particularly concerned about a Dark Elf pinning her slave against a wall.
“She’s still looking at weapons,” I say quietly.
Meira’s jaw tightens. “Vincent.”
“I know my limits, Meira. I’m not saying I could handle her long-term. But if she’s paying?” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Isn’t that the whole point? You wanted to know what I’m attracted to.”
“I didn’t expect you to pick the most dangerous option available.”
“You literally pointed her out.”
Meira groans, the sound vibrating through her chest where it’s pressed against mine. “So what, you like red skin more than black skin?”
“No.” The answer comes immediately. “I think you’re stunning too.”
The fight drains out of her like someone pulled a plug. Her hands release my shirt and she steps back, putting space between us. Her silver eyes close for a moment, and when she opens them again there’s exhaustion there mixed with resignation.
“You are going to be the death of me.”
She turns away, and we start walking again. Her fingers find my wrist once more, that familiar grip settling back into place.
My eyes keep drifting back toward where the Oni was standing, but she’s already gone. Disappeared into the flow of people like she was never there at all.
“Vincent!”
The voice cuts through the street noise, bright and theatrical. I turn my head and my stomach drops.
The woman in the domino mask is striding toward us, her top hat bobbing with each step. That same black and white tailcoat flows behind her, and her cane clicks against the cobblestones in rhythm with her movement.
Meira’s head snaps in her direction, and I watch her face go cold.
The masked woman closes the distance between us, and that’s when I see her.
Silvy walks beside the masked woman, her red scales catching the afternoon light. She’s wearing actual clothes now, a simple outfit that looks clean and well-fitted. Her red hair is a pixie cut now and much neater than I remember it being in the cart.
She smiles at me.
“Vincent. Hello.”
“Silvy.” The name comes out softer than I intend. “You seem well.”
Relief floods through me as I take in her appearance. She looks healthy. Whatever she feared might happen to her after the auction clearly didn’t come to pass.
The masked woman’s attention locks onto me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. Even through that white domino mask I can feel the weight of her stare.
The masked woman’s gaze shifts from me to Meira, and she extends her hand.
“Hello, Drow. My name is Mia.”
Her voice carries that same rolling warmth I remember from the auction house, bright and performative.
Meira’s fingers tighten around my wrist. “Get away from us, human.” Her voice cuts through the street noise, sharp and dismissive. “I have no business with you.”
Mia’s hand drops, but her smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it widens.
“Ah, hold on.” Her free hand moves to her belt, fingers finding a leather pouch that hangs there. She opens it and withdraws four gold coins. They catch the afternoon light as she holds them up between us, letting them gleam. “You’re Vincent’s other owner, I presume?”
The question lands like a stone.
Meira goes completely still beside me. Her pale silver eyes fix on the coins, then travel up to Mia’s masked face.
“I’m ready to offer four gold for him.”
I step forward, trying to get a closer look at the woman behind the mask. The angle of her jaw, the way she holds herself, even the insane confidence all pulls at memories I thought I’d left in a different world.
“Amalina?”
Mia’s head tilts slightly, confusion flickering across the visible portion of her face. “I’m sorry?” Her voice loses some of that warmth. “No. My name is Mia.”
My chest tightens. The resemblance is too close to be coincidence, but her reaction seems genuine. No recognition. No flash of familiarity. Just honest confusion.
“Are you sure we haven’t met before yesterday?”
Before Mia can answer Meira interrupts. “He’s not for sale, human. Be gone.”
The words come out cold enough to frost the air between us.
“I’m offering four gold coins,” she repeats, her voice taking on an edge. “That’s more than you paid for him.”
“I don’t care if you’re offering ten.” Meira’s free hand moves to my shoulder, pulling me slightly behind her. “Vincent is ours. He stays ours.”
Silvy shifts beside Mia, her reptilian eyes moving between all of us with careful attention. She doesn’t speak, but her posture changes. Less casual, more alert.
“Everything has a price. I’m being quite generous.”
“Then take your generosity elsewhere.”
Mia’s smile tightens. “I could make it five.”
“No.”
“Six.”
“How many times do I need to say no before you understand the word?” Meira’s voice drops lower, and I feel the temperature around us shift.
Mia’s hand tightens around the coins until I think she might actually crush them. Her breathing changes, becoming more controlled. Deliberate.
“Silvy,” she says without looking away from Meira. “We’re leaving.”
Silvy nods once, that easy compliance I remember from the cart. She turns to follow Mia, but her eyes find mine one last time.
“It was good to see you, Vincent,” she says quietly.
“You too.”
Mia spins on her heel, her coattails sweeping behind her as she strides away. Silvy follows a step behind, and within moments they’re swallowed by the crowd.
I watch Meira’s shoulders rise and fall with her breathing. The tension radiating off her is palpable, coiled tight like a spring about to snap.
“Absolutely vile. A human trying to do business with me.” She turns her head slightly, not quite looking at me. “I could vomit.”
The disgust in her voice is raw, unfiltered.
“Why did you call her Amalina?”
How the hell do I explain this? That the woman I loved for three years left me exactly one year ago and now I’m seeing her face on a stranger in a fantasy world full of monster girls?
“I don’t know.” I lie. “Just a feeling I had, I guess.”
“I would sooner give you to that Oni back there,” she says finally, her voice tight, “before I’d ever consider selling you to a human.”
The statement catches me off guard. A laugh bubbles up in me.
“Maybe the Oni would be nice?”
“Don’t play with an Oni’s emotions, Vincent.” Each word comes out precise and deadly. “They will kill you without a second thought.”
“Alright, alright. I hear you.”