Selling Myself To The Hunter

Chapter 5

Hunter

"That fox is dead when I find her." Hugo snarled in our shared mind.

"Agreed." I said, scanning my... the woman... over for the fifth time.

Not because she was gorgeous and completely naked, but so I could check for injury. She had some gnarly marks on her back and legs, but it looked like Zorra took good care of her. The evidence being the slick opaque sheen on her skin from some sort of balm. She had to have made a good trade for that. Medicine was hard to come by unless you knew the right person.

Besides her ravished skin, I noted a few old scars and a small star tattoo behind her ear. From her deal with Seraphina, no doubt. I didn't see any other markings on her. Any deals made with Seraphina, or in this hidden world in general, were marked on the skin. The placement varied, but all deals were the same. Both parties would be marred with ink until the deal was completed. In some cases, many cases, the ink never went away. Not until a body was buried anyhow.

Despite finding her in a cage, my chest eased at finding her in one piece. I heard screaming on the way over, and I thought... I thought... I shuddered at all my fears that began to resurface. I thought the worst and found myself near feral when I arrived. Thankfully, it wasn't her, and she found herself in a milder situation. So many other things could have happened since her arrival earlier today. I would consider her landing here nothing short of a miracle. Now that I had eyes on her, I could find a way to help.

- - - - - - - - - -

Dahlia

"You - it's you." Someone said nervously, rousing me from my fitful sleep. My body ached, and I'm sure if I were to look, I would have some ugly red marks from the cage across my back. I didn't mean to fall asleep last night, but exhaustion eventually won the battle of the wills. "H-how can I help you?" He continued, his angst grabbing my full attention.

"I'm here to trade, of course." A deep male voice said, as if it were obvious.

I peered past the tent, as far as the cage would allow. I could see the same unnerving blue-eyed man from last night, his gaze set high above him. He looked like he was ready to wet himself. A quick glance told me that the wolf who seemed to be guarding me last night was long gone. Figures. Across the way there were a few cloaked figures, but no one even seemed to bat an eye at me being in a cage. My adrenaline spiked at that realization; my tiny bit of hope stomped out. No one was going to help me.

"Right. Of course," The trembling male voice said, mirroring his words. "We don't have many to select from, only one in fact-"

"Why is that?" The male said, his voice irritable sounding.

"Sera- S-she hasn't brought many females here lately. My boss-"

"Ivan."

"Y-yes, Ivan. He had forbidden the full sale, only renting."

"So it has nothing to do with you and your friends raping and then disemboweling your... stock... while the boss is away?"

I was going to be sick.

"I- uh- we only-"

"Enough." The other man said, his voice clipped. "Show me."

My stomach dropped at the sight of them approaching. Now that it was daytime, I got a better look at the man from last night. To my horror, he was no man, not with the goat legs he possessed, or the small horns upon his head. I scrambled far back into my cage, my pulse racing.

"A human?" The new, far more muscular, man scoffed.

He had short brown hair and a pissed-off look on his face. Towering over the goat man, he was littered with scars and dips in his skin where flesh was ripped from bone, one especially painful looking healed wound on his shoulder. On his right hand there was an intricate looking tattoo I couldn't quite make out the details of. He wore makeshift clothes out of what looked to be some animal hide, a sleeveless tunic and shorts. And beneath all that... muscle. If his broad, powerful looking arms weren’t enough to make it obvious, the defined contours of his calves certainly were. The man had to be sporting a six-pack, if not an eight.

And he was sizing me up as if I were his next meal.

"Let's go; out with you." The goat man said, his voice uneasy as he fumbled with his keys.

I backed further into my cage, my skin fully pressed against the metal, but it was to no avail. He grabbed my ankle and dragged me out of the cage, the lip of the crate digging into my healing back. I cried out and began to thrash, clawing at his hand. He hissed in pain and yanked harder, freeing me from the enclosure. Only for the taller, far more terrifying man to grab my shoulders and set me on my feet as if I weighed nothing. It was my fear that kept me in my place, paralyzed under his scrutinizing gaze.

Hatred. Pure unbridled hatred shone in his eyes as he looked at me from head to toe, circling me like a predator.

"She has good curves, but her ass is my favorite attribute." The goat man smiled wickedly, his eyes raking over me.

Shame heated my cheeks, my nakedness on full display for both men. The goat man's excitement showed through his worn-out-looking shorts. Though the other man seemed like he didn't even care about my lack of covering. His face was hard to read, not that I was staring for long.

"You can rent her by the hour, or by the day-"

"Stop talking." The tall, muscular man growled. The goat man gulped nervously. "Your boss owes me a debt. She is mine now. Consider us even." I closed my eyes as silent tears began to fall.

"But-"

"I said, she is mine."

"S-sure." The goat man nodded, taking a few steps back.

"Let's go." He snapped at me, grabbing my arm and pulling me along.

Only then did my body and brain align again, and I began to yell and kick and thrash trying to escape his grip. I felt like a wildcat, fighting for my life. Things have only gone from bad to worse since I arrived in this monstrous place. I was not about to let him take me to some foreign place to do whatever he wished with me, not without a fight. We passed several other tents and were approaching a bridge before my captor grew tired of my fighting.

"Enough." The muscled man growled, his grip on me tightening to a near breaking point. "I said enough!" He bellowed when I disobeyed, falling to the ground when he abruptly released me. Birds squawked and fled the surrounding trees, as if they didn't even want to get involved in this mess.

"Please-" I sobbed, "I don't know where I am-"

"Enough." He said, softer this time, his eyes locking onto mine. "What is your name?"

My lip quivered as I answered, "Dahlia."

"Dahlia." He said, his expression unreadable. There was a long pause from him, as if he were debating something. And then a heavy sigh. "Here," he said, dragging a bag out of the bush.

It, like the clothes on his very back, was made of hide. He handed it to me and I hesitantly opened it, my trust in anyone in this place long gone. Inside was a canteen filled with water, a knife, some clothing - actual clothing not made of hide, a strange-looking whistle, and several commercially packaged granola bars.

"I- I don't understand." I frowned, looking up at him.

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Drink it, wield it, eat it, wear it, blow it."

My eyes narrowed at that. "That's not what I meant."

He gave me a wicked smile, not offering any further commentary as I began to dress. I have no time for pride right now.

A simple dark green top, one that would likely help me blend in more, and a pair of tan cargo pants. Both on the larger side, hanging off of me. I felt like a child dressing up in his parents' clothes. But it was better than nothing, and perhaps the first true kindness that anyone has shown me here. Though I could be wrong, I thought Zorra was trying to help me too, but in reality she was sizing me up for what she felt I was worth. Preening me to get a better price.

Opening the canteen next, I gave it a quick sniff.

"It's safe to drink." The man said flatly, his brows pinched together.

I wish I could say I was more cautious, but I was so thirsty, I not-so-discreetly gulped down the water, my parched mouth thankful for the reprieve. Only after I ate one of the granola bars did I finally look back at the man who hadn't taken his vibrant green eyes off of me; not for a moment.

I had a million questions I was about to ask him, but as I opened my mouth there was rustling coming from the brush and I fell silent, shrinking back. Out came a scrawny looking man, probably in his late forties, bone thin. He had pasty white skin and light brown shaggy hair that clung to his face. His blue eyes were dull looking, but he didn't have any noticeable scars. Not like the larger man in front of me. He also had a tattoo; a band around his left calf.

"Is this her?" The scrawny man asked my buyer.

Muscles only nodded.

"I'm Chris, nice to meet you-?" He asked, holding out his hand.

"Dahlia." I said, tentatively giving his hand a shake, my eyes darting between him and the behemoth of a man standing next to us.

"Dahlia. Alright then, let's get moving, it'll be dark before we know it. I personally would like to live to see another day." He laughed nervously, helping me up.

"Wait- what?" I frowned, looking between the two men. "I thought you bought me?"

"I freed you." The scarred-up man said. "He is going to offer you protection. Somewhere to stay."

"I mean no offense, but why him and not you?" I asked, blatantly taking into account the size differences of the two men.

He paused, his expression positively murderous. "Because staying with me would be a death sentence." He bit out. He shot Chris a look that could kill, and then stormed off into the endless jungle.

And though he looked like trouble, I found myself taking a small step towards him.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," Chris warned me. "The Hunter's benevolence only goes so far."

"The Hunter?" I asked, finally peeling my eyes away from where 'The Hunter' disappeared.

"That's what people here call him. I'm sure you can guess why." He chuckled.

"Why save me then?" I pivoted, following Chris who was anxiously coaxing me to trail after him.

"It doesn't sit right with him, what happens to some of the people here. He is... different from most. Consider yourself lucky that he found you worth saving. And consider his kindness to be a debt owed. Should he ever call, you are to answer, or face the death he saved you from."

My stomach knotted. I hoped he would never call on me. I had nothing to offer, except myself, I suppose. I needed to find Toby and get the hell out of here.

"Is that why you are here? Did he call in a debt owed?" I asked, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

"Yeah." Chris nodded as we approached a questionable-looking bridge. Not as untrustworthy as the last one I was on, but still worn enough to have me holding onto each rope railing for dear life as we crossed over the river. "My survival currently depends on your survival."

My eyes snapped up to look at him as we finished crossing the swaying bridge. "No pressure." I said dryly, unsure if that was a blessing or a curse. I suppose it is a blessing for me, and a burden to him.

Chris laughed nervously again before clearing his throat and stopping us. "Okay, first rule, well, maybe not the first rule - but uh, an important one nonetheless. Stay low and stay quiet. We have about a thirty-minute hike, forty if we have to take the longer route. I'll try to answer whatever questions you have once we are in a safer place."

I nodded in agreement and Chris put a finger to his lips and ducked down low. I mirrored his stance and with that, we were off.