Chapter 42: Her New Owner

As Merrie sat on the auction block in stunned despair, the crowds shifted. People got up and began to pack their belongings. It didn't matter that there were bitches after Merrie; now that the alpha was sold, they were no longer interested in the rest of the sales. Those hoping to get a deal began to head closer to the stage, struggling through the press of people in hopes of hearing over the din.

She watched without seeing. It was just a sea of movement and waves of noise. She still hoped that someone would call out a larger price or somehow save her from the fate she dreaded. But, she knew it was just a hopeless fantasy. She had a new owner. He was a man who was going to torture her not only for his sick fantasies, but to vent years of hatred toward Bass. He was going to break her, cut her, and inflict more pain.

Merrie looked out at the crowds. None of them knew what was going to happen. She could see in their minds that they didn't even care. She was nothing but a bitch, something to be sold. Part of her grew slick at the lost of her inhumanity but it blurred with the nausea that tore at her gut.

The worse part was the knowledge that in a matter of days, she would be begging for it. Even with her bond sealed, she remembered the sick feeling of wanting Grange to beat her and strangle her. It would be like that horrid week, but there wasn't be a Borias at the other end to rescue her. There would be no Bass or Tabitha either. Her life was about become hell and there was nothing she could do.

Her eyes drifted across the sea of people, drawn to the one person in the world she didn't want to see: Rakin.

He stood in the center of his men, the guards holding back the press of humanity. He was staring at her, his eyes bright with excitement. She could feel his emotions even from the stage: triumph, relief, and pleasure. He had a cruel smile on his face as he shoved his cock back into his pants.

Dread rose up as she brought her gaze down. The woman who was on her knees was now on the ground, her body limp. The bugged-out eyes and dusky face added to the pounding of Merrie's heart. Terrified, she reached out to see if she could feel the woman's mind, but there was nothing. Just an empty void like Sama.

She looked away sharply, sick to her stomach. This was the man who was going to own her. She could pray for a quick death, but she knew it wouldn't come. Rakin needed her to live and scream.

Sniffing, Merrie looked back over the crowd. They were drifting away, chatting as if this happened every day. No one cared about her and no one would save her.

Anger rose up. She wanted them to care. She stared out at the crowds as the energy gathered around her. It tickled her skin as the emotions boiled inside her. She could make them care, even for a few minutes.

She made up the spell as she came. It started with the domination spell that Haviston taught her, but it wouldn't work against non-bitches. She remembered how she detected the attackers during Grange's assault and dug into her mind until she found a pattern that fit them: a symbol that represented the mass of humanity. She assembled the new spell as she felt the anger and fear burning inside her, she was going to use it to power it. She could do that, she knew how.

It was fragile and her mind struggled to keep the haphazard pattern together. A single flicker of power caused part of her spell to crumble away. She grabbed what she needed and let the rest burn off until she had something that she could use. Her head ached from the effort to create the spell, but she only needed it once.

Taking all her helpless rage and dread, she slammed it into the spell. It exploded instantly and a shock-wave of magical energy radiated from her. Magic slammed into the crowds. Instead of passing through as if they didn't exist, it sank into each one as it spread out across the people and into the stalls and pavilions that surrounding the auction block.

The world grew silent except for the pounding in her ears. She was dizzy and it hurt to breathe. She blinked past the blurring of her vision at the people who froze in mid-action. As she concentrated, she realized that there were hundreds now underneath her command. She could make them love her, worship her, or even kill Rakin.

She froze at the unexpected thought. It was seductive. It would only take a few seconds and Rakin would never haunt her again. And they would never know it was her, it would be so simple. She looked at Rakin's guards with their drawn swords and frozen helplessly. She couldn't control everyone and she was already losing minds from her domination. Some of the people would die, but she would be free of Rakin forever.

A few people in the crowds began to shuffle toward Rakin.

(It never works.) Haviston's thoughts were tinged with sadness. (You might kill him and, if you are lucky, you'll get away with it. But, then you'll promise yourself that you won't do it again. An hour, a day, or a month later, you'll do it again. And promise yourself. And again. The next thing you know, you have a paladin towering over you and you are looking down the length of an enchanted blade. You'll wonder how you got there, because you don't want to admit it is entirely your fault.)

Merrie latched on his mental presence, a crystalline pillar. (I can't go with him, I can't!)

(Yes, you can and you will. Because if you kill Rakin, you know who will stop you.) An image came up, of Bass standing behind Merrie. He was right inside the back stage, his body obscured by the wooden wall except for a single yellow eye half-hidden in shadows. There was dread and anticipation in his gaze, a fear that everything was about to explode into violence. Around him, the air was hazy from gathering magic.

At his side, Sable sat on the ground watching. She had a sloppy smile on her face but it didn't reach her eyes. She was wary and waiting, no doubt to see what Merrie would do with her spell.

Merrie focused back on Haviston. (Why? They both hate Rakin. Why would they stop me?)

(For everything Bass pretends to be, he will always be a paladin. He is bound by rules, promises, and the greater good. You know how he said you have to choose between two evils? If you do this, he will have to choose.)

(I'm not evil!)

(You just dominated the minds of five hundred, thirty-one people in anger. How is that not evil?)

Her cheeks burned with shame.

Haviston stepped through the crowds. His white robe fluttered as he strolled between them. Like the thief from earlier, none of them acknowledge or even saw him. He was a ghost as he focused his attention on her. (You considered killing Rakin with those thralls, knowing that some of them would die in the process. And all you cared about was freeing yourself. These are not thoughts of a good person. In fact, they were the same things I felt not long before Bass defeated me. No, Merrie Golddotter, if you kill Rakin, Bass will have to make a choice between two evils.)

(But Sable dominated the bitches.)

(To save all of them. You are only saving yourself.)

(But, Rakin is going to torture me. You saw what was in his mind!) She projected the image of her on the ground, a ring fused into her spine.

(Yes, I'm quite sure of that. He is going to rape you until you scream. Probably rip your arms and legs off. Even that ring in the spine looks painful. I've seen those fantasies of his—they are quite hard to miss—and I have no doubt that he is willing to spend the time and money to ensure that you experience every single one of those horrors.)

Bile burned her throat. (How could I ever be more evil than him!?)

(The royal family does not look kindly into the murder of titled personas. And, since we are in Duke Natis and Count Blood's lands, the royal family will look to them for answers. And I have no doubt that Natis would pass the blame to Blood. And, if Waver Blood can't be trusted to keep the foul, disgusting underbelly of Franome contained, there is little reason to give him the freedoms that this county enjoys.)

Merrie shivered at the hard thoughts Haviston gave her.

(So, Merrie Golddotter, when it comes down to two evils, what do you pick: a disgusting man who will torture a single submissive who will gain power from it, or the lives of every single person in this fair?) Haviston stepped up on the stage and crossed over to her. His slippers scuffed along the wooden planks as he came up in front of her.

Merrie looked up at him, her stomach heaving and the nausea burning her throat. She wanted to curl up and sob, to wish for death.

(That isn't an option either. You'll find that True Submissives don't commit suicide. No matter how much the universe beats on you, you get something out of it.)

(He's going to kill me!)

(Probably not. He just spent thirty million marks on you. But, it doesn't really matter what he'll do. You're a beta, about to become an alpha. This is who you are and the only thing you can do is not fight it.)

(Can't you help me?) Her eyes were drawn up to Haviston. He stood in front of her and looked down. There was no love in his eyes, but neither was there hatred or even pity. He just measured her and she realized that she was less than human.

(Yes, but I won't.)

(Why not?)

(If I do, Bass will keep you. I have no interest in allowing you to remain near me for the year and day that I am bound to serve him. I am being petty, yes, but the mill is no longer your home. For my own pettiness, your own good, and my promise to Rendi, I need to ensure you leave the mill.)

Merrie slumped as tears ran down her cheeks. (Is there no one who can stop this?)

He reached down and wrapped his hand around her iron collar.

A shiver of unconscious pleasure through her body. Her grasp on the spell was crumbling quickly and more people began to stir. (Haviston? Please? I can't do this alone.)

He looked down at her, his milky eye not moving as he stared at her. (You won't be entirely alone. There are one hundred and thirty-six lessons in your head that you have not triggered. They were chosen to help you through the next few years of life as a slave.)

Merrie inhaled sharply. (Why? Why do that if you won't help me now?)

(For the rest of your life, you are going to be alone with only one person. You will share their heart, their loves and fears, and their hatred. You will lose your identity to your master and become part of them. But, you still have skills and they are untrained. If I leave you like that, you will become a danger to you, your master, and everyone else. The lessons I gave you are to help you become something more and to save you from becoming what I became.)

Merrie slumped against Haviston's leg and let the collar dig into her throat. He turned her around and she watched as Bass stepped back into the shadows. The air was still hazy around him and she could picture him holding out his hand, ready to summon his blade.

Merrie focused on the bitches behind the thriban. The twenty-three women who would be sold just like her. But, with the crowds gone, it would only be the cheap people who would purchase them. People like Kessler who didn't love their bitches and only saw them as holes to fuck, bodies to breed, and money to be made.

Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at the crowds. They were watching with mute silence. To the side, Rakin had his guards tight around him, swords drawn as they watched the press of people warily. Everyone was frozen in place, except for the edges where people were beginning to look around curiously.

If she tried to stop Rakin, people would die.

Merrie turned back to Bass. He was free of her spell not he didn't move from his position. If she tried to kill Rakin, he would kill her.

Closing her eyes, she gathered up her torn emotions and shifted through them. She struggled with the anger and fear that dominated her thoughts, but she managed to push it aside. She dug deep inside her and found the joy she felt as a bitch: the love of being in a pack, the ecstasy of submission, and the pleasure of obedience. Gathering it up, she turned it from the desire of being a bitch to the hunger to have one.

The world spun around her and she almost threw up again.

Struggling with everything, she sent the desire through the spell that dominated the crowds. She drove everything she could into them, giving the crowds an intense desire to own the remaining bitches and to love them, to treat them with joy and love and passion. She wouldn't ruin any lives by attacking Rakin, but she could ensure that the remaining bitches would have good homes.

Her vision blurred and she slumped to the ground. Haviston released her collar as she fell and she hit the ground with a thud. Her breasts were crushed against the unyielding wooden planks. The pain shot through her body, but she couldn't move. A sob tore from her throat as the spell crumbled and a few shred of energy burst out; the backlash burned through her veins and she closed her eyes to fight the bile surging up her throat.

And then Bass was there. His thick arms scooped her off the ground before he pulled her into a tight hug. “Good girl,” he rumbled.

Haviston only grunted. “Not what I would have done.”

Bass brought Merrie tight to his chest in a hug. He whispered, “I was worried there for a moment, Merrie.”

Merrie leaned into him and let the tears flows. She wanted to apologize but it hurt to breathe, much less think.

Behind her, the crowds began to move again with only a flicker of confusion. She knew many of them were setting down their things again, to watch the rest of the bidding and maybe consider a bitch when they would have.

(Still a bit evil, though,) Haviston projected wryly with a hint of pride, (but a better long-term decision for you.)

Sable's thoughts came into hers, a wash of love and relief.

Merrie ignored Haviston and focused on the alpha. (I'm sorry, Sable. I don't want to be evil.)

(Oh, Merrie,) came the smokey whiskey voice, (you'll never be evil.) It was a comfort to hear Sable. Sable inched lower and wrapped her own arms around Merrie, the short limbs barely reaching but the soft, curvy body helped. And then she gave Merrie a kiss and a soft smile. “But, I was worried too,” she whispered.

One of the bitches was led past them. Moments later, Eolis' spiel started but Merrie didn't listen. She didn't have to, she did what she could.

Boots slammed against the stairs of the back stage as Rakin came up, trailed by half a dozen guards. In the mostly empty space, it was booming as he headed straight for Merrie.

Merrie cringed against Bass and Sable.

“Step away, Bass. That bitch is mine now.”

Bass growled. But, he obediently stood up and stepped away from Merrie.

Merrie slipped to the ground. She whimpered and turned to watch him, then let out a soft sob as Sable reluctantly backed away. She was in the middle of the back stage, alone and helpless. Trembling, she peeked up at Rakin as the count drew closer.

Her new master reached down and grabbed her collar. His knuckles bruised her throat as he wrapped his fingers tightly around it. His arm muscle tightened and he pulled her up, lifting her up until she was barely touching the ground with the shortened ends of her legs. The collar dug into the back of her neck and she flailed helplessly as she tried to escape.

The creak of his gauntlet was the only warning before his fist slammed into her stomach. The impact exploded with magic and pain tore her senses. She let out a high-pitched scream as her entire body tensed up from an electrical discharge. It was almost the same as her collar, but far more painful. It ripped through her arms and legs. Her world turned bright white and she drank in the stench of ozone.

Rakin was unfazed by the electricity. He breathed deeply as he pulled her shaking body close until their noses were centimeters away from each other. “I know what you just did, bitch,” he spoke in anger, “and if you ever try that again, I won't kill you, but I will make sure that you—” He drew back his fist again.

Merrie cringed and tensed up, knowing the pain would come up.

His fist caught her right below her rib change. The impact crushed her guts and she curled up around his fist as she screamed out. The surge of electricity tore through her, but she had abused her own collar too many times. Prepared for it, it was just an almost familiar pain.

Bass cleared his throat. “Count Rakin?”

“Key.”

“We need to—”

“I said, give me the damn key to her collar.”

Her body shaking violently, Merrie watched as Bass fished a small key from his pocket. He wrapped his thick fingers around it tightly.

“Bassimar, you sold her. Now, give me the key or I will have you arrested.”

Jaw grinding together, Bass slowly released his fingers. The tiny iron key glinted in his palm. Slowly, he reached out and held it out for the count.

The iron dug into Merrie's neck and Rakin's knuckles were crushing her throat. She could barely breathe, but it was nothing compared to the fear and helplessness she felt. And, then to her horror, her entire body began to tingle.

Behind her, Sable inhaled sharply.

Merrie's connection snapped out but it was still caught in Haviston's spell. She felt itself stretching out across the memory of her grandfather's lands. She let out a sob and pawed at his chest, her useless wrists pounding against his muscular body.

Rakin smiled and drew her closer. “You almost bonded, didn't you. I could feel it.”

She sobbed and shook her head.

Rakin's expression turned into one of shock. She looked up. “Why didn't she? Where is the bond? Is she already bonded?”

Haviston stepped up. “I put a ward on it to get her safely through the fair. It will release in the next few days.”

“So,” Rakin gave a low laugh, “I have to make sure I'm the only one near her for a few days?” He her closer. “I can do that. And not having you bond means you'll scream for real.”

Haviston shrugged, his face never showing a hint of emotion. “It could take up to a week, so I recommend you keep her to yourself until then.”

Gasping for breath, Merrie shot a flash of anger at Haviston. (How could you?)

Her emotions slammed against his crystalline shield and he made no response.

Rakin lowered his gauntleted hand. She felt the metal fingers sliding against her inner thighs. With a sob, she knew what he was going to do.

She didn't have time to tense before he slammed three fingers into her pussy, tearing into the opening. Electricity and pain slammed into her as he lifted her by her pussy to pull her closer. “Just you and me, bitch, for a week?” His deep breathe washed against her face, “I think I can find something to do. I have a lot of plans for you, cunt.”

Rakin turned to a soft-looking aide standing among the guards. “Tass, prepare the wagon and get the tools out.”

“Yes, my lord count.” Tass had a soft, submissive voice. He bowed deeply and backed away from the count.

Images flashed through Merrie's mind. Rakin had tools in his wagon. They looked like dildos and butt plugs, but there were metal studs and sharp blades. She clenched her body knowing they were going to be rammed into her. She was going to bleed for Rakin. She sobbed with dread.

Rakin ripped his fingers from Merrie's pussy and dropped her to the ground. She hit the wooden surface hard and the impact sent pain coursing through her body. She slumped forward, still sobbing, and was thankful that she caught herself before her breasts were crushed against the floor.

“Sit up, cunt.”

Merrie shook her head and curled up.

Rakin grabbed her ears, crushing them in his fist. She let out a scream as he pulled her up, forcing her down into a sitting position. As she was slammed down, her body grew hotter with his domination. Her body tingled as a heat pooled in her pussy. As much as she hated it, his cruelty was turning her own.

“Now, fucking beg.”

Fighting herself, she pulled herself into a begging position. She didn't want to. She hated herself for doing it, but the heat inside her was hard to fight. She was trained to obey and her pussy was slick with need. She wanted to be fucked and hurt. She shook her head to fight it, but the instinctive need was already there. The sickening feel of her moisture caressing her inner thighs sent a fresh wave of nausea through her.

“Good enough, cunt.”

Rakin snatched the key from Bass' palm. He toyed with it between his two fingers. “I remember doing this before.” He focused his attention on Sable.

Bass stepped between Rakin and Sable. “She isn't yours anymore, Count Rakin.”

“No, she isn't. But, I got compensation for you stealing her back. And,” he dropped his gauntleted hand to Merrie's shoulder. “I have her now. I got your precious little alpha, Bass. And this time, she won't be running away. I'm going to make sure of that.”

Merrie almost threw up when the images came through. He was going to crop her again, cutting her arms and legs until they were nothing but short stumps. It was going to be bloody and it was going to hurt more than anything she could imagine. She grew aware of his excitement and lowered her gaze down to his crotch, where his cock was already straining at his pants.

“Soon enough, cunt. Let me just tap this….”

He tapped the iron key against her collar.

Energy flared up and around her. It was a blast of pleasure, stronger than any of the “good girl” responses. It was hot and slick. She let out a gasp as it sank into her skin, filling her with liquid heat. It burned the inside of her pussy and ass but quickly spread out to the rest of her body.

Ecstasy flowed through her veins as her attention was pulled up to his face. She tried to fight it, but there was no resisting as her eyes widened and she stared at him.

He was her master. He was the source of her pleasure.

She let out a whimper of despair as her mind locked in his expression. She took in his strong face: the short beard, his almost black eyes, the line of his chin, and the curl of his smile. Every source of every pleasure she would ever need in his cruel gaze.

He was pleasure.

A whimper escaped her throat. She dragged her gaze down his body, seeing beyond the clothes to the body inside. He was muscular and hard. He would fuck her for hours and she wanted.

He was ecstasy.

His cock drew her attention. Even in his pants, she could see the thick member straining against the fabric. He wasn't as large as Bass but he was the perfect size for her. She would be molded to his pleasure, as tight as she wanted and slick whenever he jammed that cock into her willing body.

Another sob tore out of her. She opened her mouth to breathe, but she kept parting her lips until she was begging for his cock. Her open mouth needed to be filled with his hardness. She couldn't live without his cum. She needed it, she hungered for it.

He was her only need.

Her whimper grew louder and she let out a soft, sobbing bark.

Rakin chuckled. He straightened up and unbuttoned his pants.

“Right here?” asked Haviston in a bored voice.

“Might as well seal the deal,” rasped Rakin. He fished out his cock. It was an angry purple in color with a huge, flared head. The tip glistened with his excitement. It was exactly what Merrie pictured in the desperate part of her mind.

Merrie whimpered with need. Every fiber of her body wanted it. She reached out for it greedily, desperate to slid it past her lips.

Rakin grabbed her head with both hands. The gauntlet crushed her ear against the side of her head, but she didn't care. She opened her mouth as he slammed his cock home. It scraped against her teeth and she cringed, but then he was choking her with his cock.

He didn't pause or slow down. As soon as he was seated into her mouth, his cock tickling the back of her throat, he pulled out. With a grunt, he yanked her down on his cock as he thrust forward with his hips. His balls smacked against her chin as his cock lodged itself deep in her throat. The wet thud was loud as the pounding in her ears.

Rakin dug his fingers into her head and pounded her face, forcing himself deep as he crushed her nose against his belly. Precum coated the insides of her mouth and she drank in the taste. It was liquid pleasure, a drug that she would never stop needing.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized she could never forget him. He was burned into her mind, searing itself into the most secret memories she had. Rakin was becoming more important than anyone else in her life. More important that Bass, Borias, Sable, even her grandfather. Rakin was now her entire world.

His hips slammed into her. Each impact sent sparks of white across her vision. His fingers crushed the side of her head with every thrust and she gulped greedily at his cock.

With their physical contact, images flashed across her mind. Of her pinned to the floor as he fucked her with his cock. She had a spiked dildo in her ass and it was only a matter of moment before he would rip it out of her. She was choking underwater, straining to free herself from the hands that pinned her to the bottom of the river. She was choking in a burlap sack as he beat her with a stick. Every flash of memory brought a fresh surge of heat from his cock as he fantasized abusing her.

When his orgasm came up, she sucked harder. It was the only thing she could do, she was his bitch. He slammed home and held it there, each twitch of his cock swelling inside her throat. The length of his shaft cut off her breath except for a thin trickle of air.

Rakin shook with pleasure and his grip grew slack, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't. She was trained for pleasure and as much as she dreaded the pain and suffering, she hungered for his domination.

“Fuck!” he bellowed as he came. The hot jet of cum splattered against the back of her throat and she gulped it down greedily, wishing he would fill her mouth so she could taste the source of pleasure.

A few hard jets and he pulled back, his slimy cock slid along the length of her tongue. She lapped at it, sealing her lips around the shaft so he pulled out a glistening clean cock from her mouth. As soon as his thick, rounded head pulled out with a pop, she closed her mouth and ran the thick liquid over her tongue, enjoying every taste as it swirled around.

Rakin chuckled and looked down. “I forgot how good you train your bitches, Bass.”

Bass growled, a glare etched across his face and anger burning in his thoughts.

“Don't worry, I already have a new collar ordered for her.”

Merrie didn't realize her collar was gone. For six weeks, it was a constant companion, a weight against her shoulders. But, it was gone. She was naked, utterly naked, as she knelt in front of her new master. But, as much as she missed it, his cock had become her new drug and she wanted to feel it inside her.

She cursed the collar's magic. It was making her want the one man she hated. It was her own body betraying her, not her mind or soul.

Rakin smiled and shook his fingers to the side. “After Grange told me how much the cunt took advantage of that healing charm—”

Merrie, Bass, and Sable gasped.

“—I ordered a matching collar. It doesn't heal as fast as Rendi's, but it will keep her alive no matter what I do to her.” He lowered his gaze to Merrie. “So, you'll enjoy all of the pain I can give you. And then I can cage you for a week or so and you'll be ready for the next around. I promise you, cunt, you are going to beg for death by the time I'm done.”

“You,” rumbled Bass, “worked with Grange?”

Triumph rose inside Rakin. “Who do you think paid for that army you destroyed? The teleporter? The ward breakers?”

“Was he always… your man?”

“No, Grange found me after you kicked him out for snuffing that other bitch. I promised him any of the bitches he wanted, but he said that he wanted only one. Your Sable.”

Bass and Sable growled. The air grew tight as magic gathered around the paladin and his alpha.

“I knew he was going to die, though,” Rakin said with a smile. “But, I was hoping you were going to lose a few more bitches. It would have been an irony to kill you with your own promises, but in the end, I got what I wanted.”

He rested a hand on Merrie's head, his gauntlet digging into the sensitive part of her dog ear. “And I know how much you like keeping track of your old bitches, Bass, so I'll make sure to send you monthly reports and…” a smile stretched across Rakin's face, “pictures so you know every thing I do to her. And don't worry, you can visit whenever you want.”

“Damn you,” snarled Bass.

“No, Bass, fuck you for stealing my first alpha.”

Bass stepped forward and the air grew hazy.

Rakin shook his head with a sly smile. “Striking a count is treason, Bass. Really want to risk your life for revenge?”

Bass' response was interrupted as Tass came rushing back in. “My lord count!”

Rakin turned with a sigh of annoyance, his cock smacking Merrie on the side of her face.

She turned for his hardness, desperate to have it inside her mouth again.

“What is it, Tass? Why are you—”

“Your guards were attacked by… by… that creature!”

He pointed accusingly as Tabitha stepped into the backstage. She was naked but covered from head to toe in blood. It was everywhere and thick globs of gore stuck to her thick bush and hair. She had a satisfied smile on her face even with her arms were bound behind her back. Her breasts rose and fell with slow movements; she was not concerned in the slightest bit. As everyone stared at her, she used her shoulder to wipe the blood from her face.

Four guards surrounded her, blades drawn as they kept their distance. Behind her, two more guards were carrying a man in their arms. The man was in Rakin's uniform, but his right arm and both legs were ragged, bloody ends.

Tabitha had cropped him. Merrie shivered at the memory of her own cropping, but there was no doubt that the man didn't experience even a hint of pleasure in his amputation.

Rakin made a guttural noise in his throat. “What happened?”

“It appears,” said Count Blood as he joined after them, “that a number of your guards decided to stage an attack on Mister Tobb's family during the bidding process. Now this one,” the count pointed to the cropped guard, “claims that you ordered it. Did—”

“I did no such thing,” lied Rakin.

The injured man was devastated. He opened his mouth, but the two guards holding him dropped him. Despair and fear filled the cropped man and a flickering hatred at Rakin's betrayal.

“I would never approve of such senseless violence.” He looked down at the injured guard, then back to the wagon. “He is no longer employed by me. Please ensure he is punished properly for his crimes. Were there others?”

“Yes, but they didn't make it.”

“M-My lord count!” cried the injured guard. “I was—”

“Quiet!” snapped Count Rakin.

Silence filled the back stage.

And then Eolis' voice carried out from the front stage. “And the final sale of the night. This lovely bitch has been sold for twenty-five thousand to the Dappler Family!”

Applause burst out.

“Remember all bids include taxes for both the duke and Blood County, so what you bid is what you will pay. Please come to the back stage to finish your transactions. And have a good night everyone!”

Rakin grabbed Merrie by her ear. The pain slashed through her senses as he crushed the sensitive ridge between her fingers. “Come on, I'm going back to my camp. Count Blood, that man is yours.”

Without waiting for a response, Rakin dragged Merrie across the wooden backstage and between the gathered guards. Her bare ankles skittered uselessly against the ground. As she struggled to remain on her knees, her mouth was reaching for his exposed cock. She needed the taste, it was her drug. She was slick for him and the primal part of her hoped that if he wouldn't fuck her mouth again, he would slam it home in her pussy.

Rakin marched down the stairs. He came to a stop at the bottom.

In front of him, Kessler blocked his path.

“Out of my way!”

“No,” Kessler said simply.

“I am a count. Move immediately or I will—”

Kessler shook his head. “I'm sorry, my lord count, but please understand my position. While I have no love for Bass and he has none for me, but I will insist that you pay for your purchase before you take it home. The sanctity of a financial transaction must be maintained.”

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched out. Someone in the crowd coughed.

Kessler focused over Rakin's shoulder. “You were planning on getting paid, Bass, right? Or were you going to give her away too? Even if you do, I'm sure Eolis will demand the duke's taxes and I feel Count Blood would like his share. Someone will have to come up with—”

“No, no,” snapped Rakin, “I'll pay for the bitch.” He dug into his pocket. “I wouldn't want Bass to claim I stole something from him.” He shot a glare up at Bass.

Bass and Sable growled as one.

Rakin frowned and checked his other pocket. Then a third. “Hold on.”

He retried his first pocket, then turned to Tass. “Where is it?”

Tass paled. “My lord count?”

“The money? Give it to me!” Rakin held out his palm.

“I'm sorry, my lord count, you insisted on keeping the money. It was in your right—”

“Don't you dare take—”

Kessler cleared his throat. “I can save you some time looking, my lord count,” he said, “Neither you nor any of your men have thirty million on you. Bass only has three thousand, two hundred marks. Furthermore, Eolis has not collected taxes on your transaction. So, that implies that you haven't paid for her and I,” he bowed with only a hint of mocking, "request that you complete your purchase to avoid damaging Bass' property."