Haiden was trembling violently, but rough from the pain of the bruises marring his body or the fear of more he wasn’t sure. Maybe—probably—both. His day of rest in the store house was up, and it was time for the auction again. He’d been returned once more by his “master” for not being a sufficient toy to have their way with.

He shivered in the revealing, provocative clothing he’d been forced into—a white silk skirt that barely concealed half of his pale thighs, lacy undergarments, a frilly top, and a headpiece that resembled what a maid would wear.

At least it wasn’t too bright, he consoled himself weakly, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. When the velvet curtains that concealed his form from the black market buyers was pulled away, those wretched piercing spotlights would illuminate the humiliation that was his perpetual existence.

Sure enough, he heard the rolling of pulleys as the curtains were dragged free. Light as sharp as a blade pierced his eyes and he flinched, shuddering harder.

He heard the auctioneer beginning to call out bids. He saw buyers raise their signs to add money. He wanted to cry. But that would just make the demand go up for him.

And then someone burst through the heavy double doors at the back of the auction house.