Chapter 3: New Master
They were herded off the stage like animals, the chains biting at their ankles with every step. Alaric kept his head down, but his eyes were sharp, observing everything.
That's when he saw them.
The next batch being brought in.
Women—young, some barely adults.
Dressed—or rather barely dressed—in thin, transparent fabrics that clung to their skin and left nothing to the imagination.
The chains on their necks glittered like jewelry, cruel mockery of the collars they wore.
He could see the shame in their eyes, the fear and resignation that made them seem as if they had already surrendered to their fate.
They walked silently, eyes hollow, their bodies swaying not by choice, but because the slavers wanted them to.
Alaric's stomach twisted.
"Sex slaves?" he murmured.
His feet halted.