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“You feel like a real male for laying a hand on a female, servant or not?” The warrior who stopped her owner spoke in his native tongue. But his language was one she learned at a young age, because several Hades warriors had come to the planet for an auction, and she had been made to serve them for their entire duration on Sessinea.
The language was easy enough for her to pick up, but only because she was good at understanding different dialects. To others, it was complex, one they didn’t want to learn because of the brutal history of the Hades males.
“The servant is my property, and because of that, I can do with it as I see fit,” her owner said, his anger resonating outward. He was a fool to think he could handle one Hades male, let alone three.
The one who saved her from getting hit looked down at where she lay. He stared at her for only a few more seconds, then glanced at her owner. “I want her. We want her.”
Her owner was still and silent for several seconds. He threw his head back and laughed deeply, sarcastically even. “Do you realize who I am, what I am worth, and how easily I could crush you?” Of course he had to be speaking figuratively, because even one Hades male could destroy him.
The males didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. She wondered if they’d walk away and realize someone like her wasn’t worth even saving. Yes, they had saved her, but she knew enough about Hades males that they didn’t abuse women, didn’t even talk down to them. Until they were in the breeding phase of their life, they did sleep with whomever they chose, but she knew it was respectful and with only willing females.
They were a brutal and dangerous species, ones who fought wars, killed without thought, and took what they wanted. They were fierce and protective when they found the woman they wanted to spend their lives with and breed upon, and she was clearly just a lowly servant they didn’t want to see harmed.
But what they didn’t know was that she would be beaten once she left the auction, and it would be hard and unforgiving, especially after they stopped her owner from hitting her.
They stared at her again, and their red flesh was stretched tight over their bulging muscles. They wore no shirts, and their hard, rippling abdomens were on display. The leathers they wore were tied at the front, and their thighs—gods, their thighs were thick and strong.
“We want her.” The one she now assumed to be the leader, or the eldest, spoke to her owner but kept his focus on her. In fact, the other two Hades males watched her as well.
“She isn’t available to anyone but me. There is an auction going on just feet from us. If you want a servant of your own, I suggest you purchase one from there,” her owner said with this bite in his voice, bent to pick up the chain, and tugged her forward hard enough that she choked a little. When he went to move away from the warriors, the largest stopped him by moving a step forward.
“We want her, no one else. You can fight us for her, as is your law, or sell her to us.”
The three Hades males stared at her, and she wiped away the blood she felt trailing down her chin. She could see the way all three of their jaws clenched, how the sound of them growling low seemed to fill the entire room, and wondered if they would try to lay claim to her. On this planet, it was rare for a male to challenge another male for the right to own a servant.
The servants were bought, owned, and abused, but there was a law that stated if a male wanted the right to own a servant who was already purchased, they could fight for it or buy it from the owner.
Her owner stared at the three of them, the heat coming from the warriors’ bodies so immense that she felt beads of sweat line her temples.
“I told you my servant isn’t for sale.”
The eldest warrior stepped forward. “Then I suppose your option is to fight for the right to keep her.”
If an owner was challenged for a servant, they could not back down, not unless they wanted to forfeit the ownership of the servant.
Her owner stared at the males for a moment, then looked at the auction block. The females who were for sale stood still and watched the scene before them, the violence that was right there, as did all the patrons. Her owner would either fight them for the right to own her, or he could walk away.
“Take her.” He tossed the chain toward the one standing closest to him, the leader who growled low when the chain hit his boot. “She is not of prime age, no longer carrying her maidenhood, and is of a lesser, hybrid species.” Her owner looked at her and spit on the ground beside her. “She’s used up and of no use to me any further.” He stared at the warriors again. “I want three thousand Rubletques for her.”
