2

The girl raced through the empty streets, the icy wind clawing at her skin as her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. Fear clutched her, but the desperate taste of freedom fueled her every step, adrenaline surging through her veins.

“Faster, Teodora!” she hissed under her breath, glancing back at the girl trailing close behind.

Teodora was the only true friend she had in this cruel world. For two years, they had clung to each other like lifelines, and together, they had dared to dream of escape. Azzurra had spent months planning this was their one chance to break free, to steal back the life they deserved.

Azzurra looked over her shoulder. Nothing. No one. The rain was a blessing, soaking the streets, masking their scent. For now, it seemed they had lost their pursuers.

Skidding into a narrow alley, Azzurra slammed her back against a rusted wall, panting hard. Teodora dropped to a crouch beside her, chest heaving with exhaustion.

This had to work. It was their final attempt. If they failed tonight, Azzurra would be auctioned off tomorrow sold like property to the highest bidder.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed through the alley.

Azzurra’s heart seized. She met Teodora’s wide eyes, then bolted to her feet, yanking her friend up. Without a word, she turned and ran in the opposite direction, legs burning with the effort.

She couldn’t afford to be caught not now. She couldn’t bear the thought of being paraded on that stage like livestock.

Then came a low, chilling growl.

She risked a glance behind and her blood turned to ice. A massive wolf stalked them through the rain, its eyes locked on their every move.

In the distance, beyond the mist and down the hill, the outline of the neighboring kingdom’s border shimmered in the darkness. So close.

But then Teodora stumbled. She hit the ground hard, scraping her palms and knees on the jagged pavement. Azzurra’s instincts screamed at her to keep running, but her feet turned back before her mind could argue. She grabbed Teodora’s arm and hauled her up, her heart thundering as the wolf gained ground.

“I’m sorry,” Teodora whispered weakly, leaning heavily into her.

“Don’t say that. I’ve got you,” Azzurra replied, her voice thick with emotion, tears lost in the rain.

“I have to tell you something,” Teodora choked, faltering. “I couldn’t leave Eustachio. I’m... I’m pregnant.”

Azzurra stopped in her tracks. Her breath caught.

“What...?” she murmured, eyes searching Teodora’s pale face. “What are you saying?”

“I love him,” Teodora sobbed, clutching her stomach. “I’m carrying his child.”

Eustachio. One of the guards at the Pet House.

Azzurra stumbled back, her world tilting. Before she could say a word, she turned and slammed into something solid.

The breath fled her lungs as she fell hard to the ground. When she looked up, dread coiled inside her.

Giacinto.

He stood over her like a demon summoned straight from her worst nightmares.

“You little piece of filth,” he snarled.

Azzurra scrambled backwards on her hands, but her retreat was cut short by the wolf’s growl behind her. She screamed as Giacinto seized her by the hair and yanked her to her feet.

His hand wrapped cruelly around her throat, fingers squeezing until her vision blurred and her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Her hands clawed at his wrist, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

They weren’t supposed to catch her. She had been careful meticulous. Only two girls had seen them sneak into the restroom earlier, and they had sounded suspicious when they knocked on the stall door. Azzurra had brushed it off... but maybe they’d ratted her out.

Still she had never doubted Teodora.

“I’d love nothing more than to kill you right here,” Giacinto growled, claws extending as his fury intensified.

Azzurra’s tears mixed with the rain, trailing down her face unnoticed. Cold seeped into her bones, and she began to feel herself slipping into numbness.

Just as the edges of her vision started to fade, he hurled her across the alley. She slammed into the wall with a sickening crack and crumpled to the ground, gasping for air through the searing pain.

But Giacinto wasn’t done.

“If she hadn’t told us,” he sneered, nodding toward Teodora, “we would’ve lost such a valuable little pet.”

Azzurra froze. The heel of his boot pressed against the side of her face, forcing it into the wet pavement. Her eyes widened, not from the pressure but from the betrayal.

Teodora.

Her only friend.

It all made sense now her sudden disappearance before the escape, her strange behavior. Azzurra’s heart twisted violently. The pain in her body was nothing compared to the agony ripping through her chest.

She watched, helpless, as the wolf shifted back into Eustachio, who swept Teodora into his arms. She clung to him, weeping, and the two of them walked away leaving Azzurra in the dirt.

It was like a dagger coated in acid had pierced her soul.

Giacinto dragged her upright, his claws digging deep into her arm. His fury barely held in check, he backhanded her across the face then again, and again. Her head snapped sideways with each blow. Her lips bled, her cheeks turned numb, her vision clouded.

Still, she didn’t scream.

The rain washed away the blood, and she closed her eyes, retreating inward, letting her mind drift far from the pain.

He wasn’t supposed to lay a hand on her not according to the Pet Mistress’ rules. They never harmed the girls' faces. Beauty sold better. But Giacinto had broken the rules. And for the first time, Azzurra was glad.

Let her be bruised. Let her face be ruined. Because tomorrow, at the auction no one would want her.

They only bought perfect pets.

Her plan to escape had failed, yes... but in some cruel twist of fate, this beating had given her a new hope. She was no longer marketable.

The Mistress wouldn’t risk losing profit by sending her to the slaughterhouse not yet. And that bought Azzurra time. Time to find another way.

Giacinto, scowling at the sight of her battered face, dragged her toward a black vehicle. She didn’t resist. She let him haul her in.

The mission was still a success.

No one would buy a broken doll.

The car screeched to a halt in a place that felt wrong dark, eerie. Giacinto yanked her out, leading her to the door of a small house and hammered his fist against it three times.

The door creaked open, and an old woman stood there, her eyes an unnatural shade of violet.

Azzurra’s stomach turned.

A witch.

Why had he brought her to a witch?

“Heal her,” Giacinto ordered coldly.

Panic surged. Azzurra ripped her arm from his grip and tried to flee, but he caught her by the hair and jerked her back.

Twisting her around, he drove his fist deep into her stomach.

The pain was indescribable. Her breath vanished, her mouth opened in a soundless cry as she collapsed to her knees, the ache so fierce she couldn’t think.

He didn’t stop. He dragged her broken, sobbing body into the witch’s home.

And behind them, the door slammed shut.