Aurora's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the kidnappers position all the captured women in a neat, disturbing line.
Her wrists ached from the tight ropes digging into her skin, and she shifted uncomfortably as they forced each woman to look directly at the camera.
She overheard their murmurings, cold and detached, as if the women were objects rather than human beings.
"The prettier the face, the higher the bids," one of them muttered with a cruel chuckle, sending shivers down Aurora's spine.
Her stomach twisted.
She understood now—they were being auctioned, sold to the highest bidder.
If no one wanted them, the grim fate awaiting them would be slavery.
A man, the same one she had bitten earlier, stepped toward her with a sneer plastered on his face.
He looked at her like she was beneath him, like he could squash her without a second thought.
