Chapter 10 Captured

And then, they were moving—two demi-humans locked in a brutal dance of speed and fury. The city square erupted into chaos as the fight began, onlookers scrambling out of the way as Skye and Patrona used every bit of their surroundings to gain the upper hand. Crates shattered under their weight, fruit stands toppled, and gasps filled the air as claw met dagger, both combatants refusing to back down.

The smell of bruised fruit and splintered wood filled Skye’s nose as she ducked beneath Patrona’s swipe. Steel flashed past her cheek. She pivoted, her claws slashing upward, aiming for Patrona’s ribs—but the dark elf danced aside, nimble as a flickering flame.

Patrona’s laughter rang out, bright and sharp. “Is that all you’ve got, little pussy?”

Skye bared her teeth. Her breath came in ragged bursts, each inhalation burning her lungs.

The only thing louder than the sounds of their battle was the pounding of Skye’s heart—because for all her anger, for all her pain, one thought rang clear above the rest.

I will not lose him.

The fight spiraled out of control faster than Skye anticipated. She had started with fire in her veins, fueled by rage and frustration, but it wasn’t long before reality crashed down on her. She wasn’t a natural fighter—at least, not like this. She was a seeker, a scout, trained for speed and survival, not brute strength.

Patrona’s strikes were precise, brutal. Every flick of her dagger seemed to carve the air itself. Skye managed to land a few blows, sharp scratches across Patrona’s arm and thigh, but she took far more than she gave. Each cut burned like acid on her skin. Each blow rattled her bones.

The world shrank into snapshots—Patrona’s crimson smile, the flicker of silver steel, the metallic tang of her own blood in her mouth. The ground swayed under her feet as the square blurred between the ringing in her ears and the flashes of pain slicing across her body.

Still, Skye refused to back down.

“You think he’d choose you?” Patrona hissed between strikes. “He’ll discard you like all the others. He doesn’t need you.”

“Shut up!” Skye snarled, slashing at her again.

Patrona twisted aside, her grin sharp as a dagger. “You’re nothing but a little toy for him. And you’re not even the first.”

Skye screamed and lunged, claws aiming for Patrona’s throat.

But she was too focused on Patrona to notice the danger creeping in from the sides.

A flicker of motion registered at the edge of her vision—too late. Thick arms closed around her from behind, squeezing the air from her lungs. She thrashed, feet kicking against the cobblestones.

It was only when a pair of rough hands grabbed her from behind that she realized—she had been flanked. Two more of her ex-teammates had melted into the chaos, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Skye kicked and thrashed, claws slashing backward. Her nails raked flesh, drawing startled curses from one of the men.

She felt herself dragged, stumbling, toward a waiting wagon half-hidden behind a canvas stall. The boards were thick, dark-stained, with iron bars glinting beneath the heavy tarp. Panic slammed into her chest, hammering faster than her heartbeat.

“No! Let go of me!”

They forced her back, driving her into the waiting wagon. The moment she stumbled inside, the iron barred door slammed shut with a metallic clang. The lock clicked into place.

Caged. Like an animal.

All because she lost control.

She flung herself at the bars, claws sparking off the iron. “Let me out!”

A sickening laugh echoed outside the bars. “Gregory’s gonna be real happy we caught you, lil’ pussy,” one of the men sneered, his face a shadow beyond the tarp. “Payback is coming.”

Patrona’s voice slithered through the darkness like oil. “And don’t worry about your Kai,” she said, tapping a dagger against the bars with a soft ting, ting, ting. “We’ll be paying him a visit soon enough.”

Skye’s stomach twisted into a nauseating knot. Her breath came in short gasps, vision swimming as she gripped the bars, her claws scraping deep grooves into the iron.

No. Not Kai.

The wagon lurched forward.

And with that, she was stolen away—bound for the slave traders.

All because she had let herself hunger for something.

For someone.

And now, she was paying the price.