Stolen by the Zandian - Renee Rose Page 0,5
male had just manipulated them into this. Which leads me to wonder what his angle is.
I swivel toward the caretaker, walking on my tippy toes to try to get closer. My left nipple brushes against the purple-skinned male’s white tunic. He doesn’t move back. His eyes dip to my nipples, which tighten into stiff buds, as if preening under his gaze.
His hand lightly settles on my waist, and his horns thicken and lean in my direction.
If I weren’t so desperate to get the rest of my dosage, I’d savor the fact that the attraction between us is mutual.
Not that I care about such things since I’m about to escape.
I open my mouth like a baby pet, straining at my bonds, so I don’t miss a single drop. The caretaker dribbles it onto my tongue, and my throat works as I swallow.
“You were pretty desperate for that, weren’t you, little human?” The horned stranger’s thoughtful gaze rests on my face. He appears almost fascinated by me. For the first time in my life, I wonder, briefly, if I’m nice to look at.
All these years, I was bred and modified to be stronger and more resilient to damage. My looks weren’t part of the Kraa enhancements. But the way the warrior looks at me, it’s almost as if he finds me… attractive.
He raises his voice to speak to the overseer but doesn’t turn away from me. “And how expensive is this medicine of hers? That’s certainly a factor to consider, isn’t it?” He’s bargaining for me like I’m nothing more than the object I’ve always been to my masters, yet his steady regard takes away the sting of it.
Like he really sees me.
Me, not the enhancements. Not what I can do or what I’m useful for.
“She’ll be sold with a lunar cycle’s supply. After that, the medicine can be purchased from us, or for a higher price, the formulation and ingredients can be purchased for her new owner to make the elixir himself.”
The warrior scoffs. “I asked the price.”
“Fifty stein for a lunar cycle’s supply.”
Fifty stein.
Sweet Mother Earth, how will I survive? I won’t be able to pay that. Nor will I be able to simply order it from the Kraa after I run away. They’d hunt me down. And the sentence for runaway slaves in this galaxy is death.
I’ll just have to learn to live with the headaches. But even that thought brings back a stabbing pain behind my eyes and makes my stomach lurch.
“Where’s this one month supply you say she’ll be sold with?” the warrior asks.
Yes, where? I swear, it’s like he’s trying to help me escape. I watch the overseer’s gaze dart toward the table and under it, I spy the padded case they carry the vials of my medicine in.
One lunar cycle’s supply. It will have to do. Maybe I can just take micro-doses and get used to the migraines. So now I just have to crawl this wall to unhook my hands—that should be easy—then grab the medicine and run.
It’s not great, as far as plans go, but I’ll figure out the rest as I go. A distraction is what I really need. Something to give me a head start.
An amplified announcement comes from the stage. The auction’s about to begin.
“Step away from her,” the overseer snaps, spying the warrior’s hand still resting on my waist. He slides it down to the top of my buttocks before he slowly pulls it away, his fingers trailing my skin like he doesn’t want to stop touching me.
Goosebumps lift on my arms, and my skin tingles where his hand was. I register the loss of his nearness like a tiny panic. But that doesn’t make sense.
The only panic I should have is over getting myself out of this place. He steps back out of the cordoned off area and folds his arms across his massive chest, subtly keeping me in his visual field while angling his body to the stage.
The caretaker lifts my roped wrists off the hook and clamps a hand around my upper arm, pinching my flesh as he roughly pulls me toward the stage. Sweet Mother Earth, this is probably my only chance.
I half-expect the purple, horned warrior to follow and bid on me. Not that I’m disappointed he doesn’t. It’s not like I’m going to walk out of here with a new master. Not if I can help it.
We stand behind the dais, waiting in the queue to go on stage. I look over involuntarily,