All his previous experiences at the viewings left Saedah expecting to wake in his cell, strapped down or chained, waiting through the nausea for the drugs to wear off. He would be dehydrated, dirty, and sore from head to foot. Everything would hurt, inside and out. The smell wafting from him would be enough to keep the other slaves well away from his bars.

This time, however, he woke to the old hag doctor leaning over his cot, tapping at a vial on his IV. The close proximity of another person brought him to painful spasms as he tried to back away. The fact that the other person was one of the two main torturers in his life did absolutely nothing to dissuade his soul-deep need for space. Waking up in her care caused his heart to race at a painful rate and echo in his ears. His heartbeat was a rhythm he could feel in his fingers and toes, spearing through his head, and in every scrape, bruise, and cut.

Unfortunately, there was nowhere for him to run. The cot was sturdy and the straps at his elbows and wrists were solid. He tilted his head forward, fighting the nausea, to growl at the woman. She, in turn, just laughed at him.

She popped him across his forehead with a gloved, bandaged hand and continued about her business, still laughing. The way she slapped him, almost gently in a distractedly annoyed and familiar manner, reminded Saedah of Vorn. The action had immediately sent him into a silent stupor, his gaze far into the past, to a life that no longer existed and to family that thought him dead.

"If I had known that was all it took to shut you up, I'da done it long ago!" she groused, bringing him out of painful memories and thoughts.

"So how close to death was I this time?" He asked, nonchalantly, as though the two were friends. She knew more about him than anyone, other than Mac. Actually… no, she knew more about Saedah than Mac ever would, with all hope. Mac didn't know just how much pain he could take before passing out. He didn't know how high or for how long his heart rate could last before he fell into arrest.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that this time." She pressed a button on his monitor, then turned to him. "You did very well, even against the spy they caught last week." She paused as she checked his lines and the rate. "The lady needed you sober and able to perform again. Quickly."

His stomach shriveled. It was then that he remembered the unusual viewing. The women.

"What?" His throat was suddenly dry. They couldn't be planning another one of those already. Could they? The thought echoed through his mind.

Gods have mercy, not that again. He thought, pleadingly. Never again.

There were two things highly wrong with her words. Two things with the potential to actually break him. He had to control himself. He could not let too much out, so he focused on the one issue with the least damaging possibility. He still pleaded with any god that would listen, to please let him be dreaming. Please let it not be true.

"A patron has bought you to stud a female. Congratulations." She lifted the IV and plunged a syringe into it, leaning closer. "The female is three bays down, getting the heat forced on her now."

What the actual fuck? He thought, not believing this could be his reality. He had to still be drugged or dreaming. This was not happening.

Anger fueled him as he glared skyward and thought venomously at the gods, I didn't mean for you to make it worse, assholes.

"She's a Neofei. Hope that don't hurt your performance. You'll have to do the deed anyway. No refunds, ya know. Roughly four hours from now, you'll be on your way to being a daddy!" She howled with laughter. "Thalia!"

"Yes, ma'am?" The familiar face of the assistant nurse edged around the bed. She looked everywhere but at him, which was nothing out of the ordinary. No one outside those directly ordered to deal with the slaves acknowledged their presence. Add to that what he had just done, what he had just been through, he was likely revolting to look upon.

"Get this thing cleaned up." The hag flicked her wrist at Saedah and strode from the room, removing her gloves as she went.

"Yes, Ma'am." The assistant, Thalia, breathed. Her eyes turned to Saedah when the door clicked closed. "You look horrible." She supplied.

"Ahhhh, yea…. Thanks?" his words were jumbled and stammered. Thalia had never spoken to him before.

"When it happens, it will happen quickly." She stated, giving him the sponge bath and still not meeting his eyes.

"When what happens?" He asked, eyes narrowing. He very well knew how sex worked, and he really hoped this wasn't his 'birds and the bees' talk.

"I cannot say." Saedah growled at her response. That was not an answer.

"Then you shouldn't have." He snapped.

The girl paused for a long moment, holding the sponge to his skin. He coughed, jolting her. She set aside the sponge and sighed. "Be prepared. I don't know when. I don't know how many. But they know you are here."

Saedah froze. They. They who?

"Who?"

"I…" The door clicked. "Stop struggling, asshole." The girl actually slapped his leg, hard. It was like a switch was flipped. The quiet, sympathetic girl was simply gone, and in her place was this cold woman, forced to clean something no better than a mangy mutt drug in from the trash heap.

"Problems?" came the ever familiar voice of Akumini.

Greeeat, he thought. More happy fun times.

"No, Lady. He's just mule-headed." She said, snarling at Saedah. Holy shit, but this girl could act.

"That, unfortunately, is nothing new." Akumini eyed him, "He is not trying to bite you, though, so that is an improvement." The girl glanced at him and blanched.

Yeah, that hadn't been his proudest moment. But the stupid hag had it coming. She'd gotten a little too confident, and a little too close. Saedah had taken his chance, and the hag now sported a thumb-stump like himself. Everyone learned a lesson that day. Saedah learned that hag tastes really bad and comes with a side of hot-box, and hag learned that Saedah would bite. Hard.

"Let's have a talk, Veron." Saedah started at the name, before remembering that was one of the many names he'd given Akumini in the beginning. The drug was still at work in his system, keeping a fog of confusion around his mind and causing his thoughts to process slowly. "Yes, I am aware this is not your true name, but I tire of not having a name for you. Since you withhold your real name, I shall call you Veron DeCrawley." The woman really did have a remarkable memory, which was scary as all the horrors of all the hells combined. He'd have to watch himself more closely.

"As the good doctor has already informed you, you will be impregnating a slave belonging to a patron." She waited for Saedah to acknowledge, which, of course, he did not. He simply stared at her, face emotionless. "Despite, or perhaps because of, your temperament, the client requests the deed be done in the 'old-fashioned' manner. There will be rules to which you will adhere. Understood?"

Saedah raised an eyebrow. "You really expect me to-"

"Yes." She interrupted, "I do. For if you do not, I will kill the two girls you protected yesterday."

That silenced him so thoroughly that his teeth actually clicked shut. Fucking idiot, He berated himself. He'd given Akumini leverage.

"Ah. I see I finally have your attention." She pulled a stool to the side of his bed and sat. "You will not harm the patron, nor anyone else during the time you are out of your cell. For any damage incurred by your hand, I will have given to the girls, twice over." She smiled as Saedah growled.

"If you kill anyone, the girls will die horribly slow and agonizing deaths that even you cannot fathom."

"I get it." Saedah growled.

"I do not believe you do. Not yet." She said as she pat his balled fist. "I also have the young soldier, Lews, he said his name was."

That had to be Therin.

"I saw that the two of you had a conversation. Yes, yes, I have cameras installed in the slave quarters. I am no idiot, Veron." She sighed. "due to poor placement, the cameras weren't able to actually see much… a problem being remedied presently, I assure you." she sneered. "I am not so conceited to believe that you would actually tell me what you talked about, and I don't really care, to be honest. I have what I needed from you." she tapped his IV and followed it to his vein. "I saw how you looked at him. He means something to you. Both him and the girls. And I will use them against you. They serve no purpose to me now otherwise.

Any punishment given as result of your temperament or actions, will be given to them as well. You will heed my words, or you will watch their flesh stripped from their bones. If this is not enough, you will watch those girls service my men." She stood, looking down upon Saedah with resolve and understanding. She knew she had him. "I'm sure I could find a couple that wouldn't mind taking Lews for a spin, for good measure. Are we clear?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Crystal" he growled.

"Good. For as long as you are good, Lews and the sisters are safe. They will be exempt from the pits and fed well. Their lives now rest in your hands. After you finish your task tonight, we will talk further. Enjoy yourself."

She left the room, and Thalia resumed the sponge bath. She said nothing. She likely understood that the equation had just changed.

The magnitude of fuckery he was under was simply overwhelming. He was screwed every way but up.

And thus, the four hours passed with him trying to figure out how he, locked in his cell, could escape, grab the twins, find Therin – wherever the night-blinded witchery he was- and escape off an unknown rock, in a stolen ship, assuming he made it that far. He had no idea where the garage or bay yard or hanger was located, depending on how big the place actually was and assuming it was connected to the same building he was in. He didn't have the slightest idea on security numbers or implementations. He had heard dogs from time to time, but whether they were on the property as guard dogs or patron pets, or even neighbor mutts, he had no clue.

Gun reports were the same. For all he knew, they had a freaking firing range on the property. Or a gods damned bowling alley and pet unicorn. No intel whatsoever.

He was screwed.

So when the guard entered the room, Saedah did not fight him. The man was clad in the typical body armor of those under Akumini. He edged to the bed foot by foot. He was young and had obviously heard the stories, but Saedah made no sudden movements. He allowed the young man to unclasp the straps, help him stand, then bind his hands behind his back.

The guard led him by the elbow down many hallways to a part of the keep he had never seen before. Saedah couldn't bring himself to catalog the details. They didn't matter any more. Every bit of hope he'd reignited just died without so much as a sputter or a hiss.

The guard knocked on a numbered door and the pair waited in silence for less than ten seconds. A mountain of a man answered the door and looked Saedah over with a disdainful air, his nose crinkled as though smelling something rancid. Saedah mentally cursed. Of course he would be the personal plaything of a full-blood Baultoni. The man, seeming to find Saedah lacking in all things, sniffed and turned his attention to the guard. Even with his back to the man, Saedah could feel the guard shiver. The Baultoni flashed his teeth, setting the guard even more on edge, and allowed them into the sitting room with a lazy wave of one massive calloused hand.

They had to pass far too close to the male for Saedah's comfort. Judging by the prod to the back, as though telling Saedah to hurry the hells up, the guard was of similar mind.

Inside the chamber, three more doors branched away. It was decorated for comfort, rather than simply to display wealth and opulence. Everything in the room could be used, and was. The lumpy, overstuffed seats were unoccupied with the fluffy throw blanket cast across a gently worn arm. A simple delicate tea pot steamed among three empty, clean glasses on a silver tray on the marble coffee table. The room was dark, cozy by most standards. To him, it was stifling and confining. The curtains were drawn closed, and he wished they'd been open. It would have been nice to see the outside again. He had no recollection of daytime or nighttime, but it would have been marvelous to feel, or at least see sunlight again, or even stars.

"Half-breed." The mountain grumbled.

"Outcast." Saedah responded on reflex, before thinking. His years at odds with his maternal peoples sent the retort through his filter and past his lips, unchecked until it was too late. His eyes shot around to the guard, who simply shrugged.

"You get one freebie. Remember that." Saedah heaved a sigh, and would likely remember the young guard for the rest of his life. Not many of his ilk were so lenient. The guard pushed him forward, behind the mountain, and through the left-most door.

There was an enormous four-poster bed dominating the room. He refused to look at it. He didn't want to think about what he was about to do. A loveseat was tucked into a shuttered and dark bay window. A shelf of books stood along the opposite wall along with another closed door. He hungrily drank in the sight of the books, palms itching to hold one. Reluctantly, he forced himself to look around the room. Anywhere but at the things he wanted, but would never again have.

A cough pulled his eyes to the bed with a snap. Mother in Darkness, but he was jumpy. On the bed lay a young female slave. The pale gray and white stripes marking her fine fuzz, combined with animalistic ears, labeled her clearly as Neofei. Her glassy and bloodshot, youthful eyes marked her roughly sixteen at most. Forced heat was not treating her well. He had once heard stories on the side-effects from Mac, during their shared lab days.

Their eyes met, and Saedah felt like the largest and foulest pile of manure in existence.

The door to the side slid open and Saedah was glad to look anywhere else. Who else but the Pteroisian Maverick strode in to take her place on the loveseat. She acted like the queen of the universe herself, wrapped in a steaming wet blanket. Her face and eyes bore a look of superiority to rival even that of Akumini. Anger and fear welled up and flared within him, threatening to burst out of him in a tidal wave of destruction. That was before thoughts of Therin and the girls quelled his bloodlust. Powerless and hopeless, he forced himself to meet the woman's self-assured, confident, knowing gaze. Her eyes told him she knew he was fighting an inner war, but the Maverick only watched him with her head cocked to one side, like a puppy presented with a curiosity. After only a few heartbeats, what felt like an eternity to him, she turned her attention to the loveseat.

As she made herself comfortable, she addressed the guard.

"Thank you, sir. You may leave." She waved a graceful hand to the door, dismissing the rigid young man.

"I am sorry, lady. I can not do that." He responded, bowing apologetically to her.

"I beg your pardon?" Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "I do believe he is my stud for the next hour. I do believe he is chained, and… oh, I am sorry, have you met my Second?" The mountain tilted his head in greeting before he drew his pistol as non-threateningly as possible. It was an impossible feat, given the Baultoni's size and build. Merely breathing seemed imposing for the hulking man. The massive mitts on the giant dwarfed the gun and made it look more like a toy than a beautiful rustic .44 mag. The weapon was clearly meant for Saedah, though you couldn't tell by the guard's expression. The man was looking at it as though seeing his own death before him.

"Uh, lady, my- my job.." The guard stammered.

"Oh, lords. He's not going to shoot you, kid. The bullet is for the slave should he… react badly. Which I highly doubt he will, since he will be chained to the bed, and my lovely Nala will be on top." The Maverick exasperatedly explained. "I like to watch, and would like even more if you were not in the room."

"B-but, my lady… it's still my job." The guard shifted his stance and gestured to Saedah with his free hand, the other still gripping the cuffs.

"Hells bells, kid… could you stand guard in the sitting room, and still do your damned job?" The Maverick indicated the next room with a casual gesture, like shooing a fly.

"Well, it would be a stretch of my duties." He said slowly, then rushed his next words at the look on the Baultoni's face. "But I think I can manage."

"Then please," She said in patronizing tone. "Do that."

"Yes, my lady." He backed away in a bow, dropping Saedah's cuffs. Stinging relief rushing into his hands, Saedah watched the young man go with a small amount of sympathy. Stretching his fingers to encourage blood flow and relieve the stinging sensation, he couldn't help but wish the Conclave could've gotten to the guard first; that was some admirable job dedication.

Mountain shut and locked the door after the guard, then set a series of small objects along the door frame. When they started to glow, he made an all-clear thumbs-up.

The Maverick stood, dropping the steaming, dripping blanket from around her shoulders. It thudded to the floor beside her feet. She wore no shoes, and Saedah could see the webbing between her toes clearly. Glancing up, he noted the webbing of her hands, reaching the first knuckle of each finger. Then he realized what she was wearing. Her clothing was vastly different than the sept uniform from earlier. Her oversized shirt dipped low, exposing her cleavage. Her shorts were barely visible, if not for the thin and wet fabric of the top, labeled with 'Surveau'. Her striped skin and shorts shown through the fabric clearly, causing Saedah to glance back at the blanket for a nanosecond, wishing she would put it back on.

Up close, as Saedah had never met an pteroisian in the flesh, he realized her hair was made of thick follicles and the patterns to her skin were slightly raised and recessed. The follicles could almost pass as the poisonous barbs of the fish they had evolved from.

Mountain started growling at him. "Keep your eyes to yourself, half-breed."

Saedah turned to the Baultoni and opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He remembered the threat. He snapped his teeth closed with an audible click and turned back to the Maverick. He'd once hoped, so dearly, that she would help him.

"What do you require of me, Mistress...?" He hesitated at hearing his own voice. It was flat and defeated. Even he could hear the defeat in his voice. He bowed, insides wrenching as they turned to both liquid and stone. His stomach and heart were heavy with his dire future, and his stomach was squeamish at the sour taste of his pride.

A small, tired voice in the hidden crevices of his mind called him a coward. Then he stumbled over himself, trying to place the language and pronunciation of the name printed on her shirt. "Serv ow… Ser... Surv oh?"

"It's Serv-OH." She said distractedly, waving a hand dismissively. "Listen, Saedah-" Before he could restrain himself, he leapt forward. Mountain caught him around the throat and slammed him back against his chest, crushing Saedah in a bear-hug. His cuffed arms were pinned between the two while his feet hovered inches above the floor. No amount of thrashing would see him free. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to stop flailing his legs and use his words.

"Please!" he hissed, eyes darting crazily to the door and around the room, seeking the well hidden cameras and microphones. "Please, just don't tell them my name!" Panic already had its talons in his heart, but it rose higher, tightening his throat and darkening the edges of his vision. "I will do everything you ask, bear any punishment, just don't. Don't" Surveau and Mountain looked at each other as Saedah repeated that last word over and over. He'd gone limp in the Baultoni's hold, breathing hard and sweating profusely.

If Akumini found out, it would not end well. Therin, the twins, and damn near anyone else who might ever have been associated with him would die. 'Saedah' was a known name associated with the Conclave, due to Oon'Aryx. Not to mention it was a distinctly Baultoni word, one that no Baultoni would name their son. No one but his Bault mother and human father, evil creatures that they were. The term Saedah meant 'to give hope or luck'. It was a term for good omens, lucky pendants, and quite a few pets. His human father, following Baultoni tradition, named his son with a meaningful Bault word. Unfortunately, the word meant lucky pendant. He held his mother equally, if not more, to blame for his life-long torment at that little gift.

"Get on the bed, Lucky." Mountain growled, pushing Saedah toward the four-poster and Nala.

Saedah did as told. He climbed onto the soft expanse of silk-covered hell and avoided Nala's eyes. She sat up and scoot over, giving him the room to awkwardly maneuver to the center of the bed. Her chains gave her room to maneuver as she willed, and seeing her freedom made his own bonds seem so much tighter. Then he caught her her pained expression as she winced. He could still see the pained and crazed look in her eyes from the Heat. She was distant and quiet, even as she breathed through the discomfort, watching and waiting.

"Lay down." Surveau said coldly. He did as he was told.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to Nala. The female's bright yellow eyes narrowed on him and her full lips pursed to a fine line. Her unusually open and telling features, refreshing after long months spent with only misery to witness and share, bore an expression of vivid shock or disbelief. She turned those expressive eyes back to Mountain.

"Nala, if you will." Surveau said, smiling.

Nala crawled forward, unwrapped Saedah's loincloth, then climbed over him. Saedah closed his eyes, wishing once again that he had died those many months ago.