Chapter 3

"Tonight," Jax continued, stepping forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "we have a unique auction. A tribute to a bygone era."

His associates, these investors, leaned in, their faces greedy.

Men brought in boxes, setting them on a long table.

My breath caught.

Sacred artifacts.

Ceremonial garments.

Things I recognized.

Things that should be ashes, but were salvaged, plundered.

"These are relics from the Silverwood tribe," Jax announced.

"Souvenirs of our conquest."

A wave of nausea hit me.

He was selling my people's sacred heritage, piece by piece.

Tiffany watched me, her expression triumphant.

This was her design too, her way of twisting the knife.

"And to make it interesting," Jax said, his gaze locking onto mine, "Elara will participate."

The host explained the "game."

For each "lot" auctioned, I would be asked a question.

A question about Tiffany.

Her life, her preferences.

"If Elara answers correctly," the host chirped, "she gets a chance to reclaim the item by matching the winning bid."

An impossible task.

I had nothing.

"If she answers incorrectly, or not at all," he paused for effect, "the item is sold to the highest bidder. And they may do with it as they please."

The crowd chuckled.

Defilement.

That was the unspoken promise.

I looked at Jax, searching for any sign of the man I once loved, the man I saved.

There was nothing.

Only a cold, calculating stranger.

My hands clenched.

I had a single, fire-scorched seed from the Mother Tree hidden in my palm, saved from the inferno.

I focused on it, trying to draw strength, to call upon the forest's spirit.

Nothing.

My power, so diminished by the life-force transfer, flickered and died like a damp flame.

I was truly alone.