The sun barely crested the treeline, and already the air stank of sweat and spoiled meat. Pirates moved through the cages like farmers through fields, kicking at bars, hurling curses, dragging chains.

  “Feeding time, you stinkin’ strays!” one of them barked, slapping a metal bowl against the cage bars.

  Inside the children’s pen, a frail elven boy tried to stand — but stumbled forward with a whimper. His body was too thin. Too hot. He hit the dirt face-first.

  A nearby pirate laughed.

  “Useless luggage.”

  He kicked the child in the ribs, hard enough to lift him off the ground.

  The laugh didn’t last.

  With no warning, a flash of motion slammed into the pirate’s face — Thessia, chained and furious, had lunged forward, slamming her forehead directly into his nose. The crunch echoed louder than the birds above.

  The pirate dropped screaming.

  Thessia stood over him, chest heaving, lips drawn back like a beast.

  Three other pirates descended on her instantly. One slammed her into the ground. Another twisted her arm behind her back. The third raised a knife.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Then a voice cut through it all.

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Everyone froze.

  Neyxa stepped forward, slow and deadly.

  “’Cause when jungle boy finds out? It won’t end well. Not for you. Not for your camp.”

  The pirate with the blade looked toward the vault wing, toward the cell that held the boy they hadn’t broken. Not once had he screamed. Not once had he begged.

  They hesitated.

  Then footsteps. Slow. Heavy.

  Yvonne Blackwell entered the scene, dragging his coat across the grass like a banner of death. His cursed arm twitched. He didn’t ask what happened.

  He already knew.

  He walked straight up to Thessia, crouched beside her. His fingers brushed her bloody lip — gentle like a lover, cruel like a butcher.

  Yvonne (low and slow): “You’re mine… and you don’t even know it.”

  He stood.

  Yvonne: “But you will. When he breaks, you’ll feel it first.”

  SLAP.

  It echoed across the clearing.

  Neyxa caught Thessia by the shoulders before she could leap.

  Neyxa (tight whisper): “Not now. Think about the kids.”

  Thessia didn’t speak.

  She just stared at the dirt, trembling.

  That night, in the women’s cage, silence wrapped the group like a wet blanket. Lirah coughed in her sleep. Neyxa wrapped a cloth around her to keep the fever down.

  Thessia sat in the corner, arms around her knees.

  Thessia: “You shouldn’t have stopped me.”

  Neyxa: “If I hadn’t, your face would be gone.”

  Thessia: “At least it’d be mine.”

  Neyxa didn’t respond at first. Just wrung the sweat from the cloth.

  Neyxa: “They’re waiting for us to slip. One wrong move and they bury the kids first.”

  Thessia shook her head.

  Thessia: “You’re cold.”

  Neyxa met her eyes.

  Neyxa: “No. I’m focused.”

  Hours passed. The guards rotated. The camp grew quiet.

  Then Neyxa moved.

  She slid her cuffed hands down between her legs, flexed her fingers, and twisted the inner pin she’d stolen two days ago. A soft click.

  The shackles opened.

  She slid out of the cage like vapor, silent as moonlight.

  Through the vines. Around the fires. Past the drunk sentries and half-sleeping guards.

  She stopped outside Yvonne’s quarters.

  Voices.

  Crewman: “No buyers biting. Elven kingdom’s got every port watched. Even the human slavers are backing out. These kids too hot.”

  Yvonne: “They’ll bite. Pain always sells. Hope sells more.”

  Neyxa pushed the door open.

  Yvonne turned.

  His cursed arm lit with a pulse of dark heat, rising.

  She didn’t flinch.

  Chapter End.