Send “Auction” for your muse buying mine as their slave
Derek snarled lowly but kept his head down as he was transferred to the person that bought him, seeing a small female form before him now.
Summer watched Derek, discreetly, through slots in the carven screens separating the kitchen from the hallways leading deeper into the house. One eyebrow ticked up when he thanked Spring, but her mouth pinched when she saw how much food he’d left behind. Her twin came and stood by her shoulder for a moment.
“Do you think he’s salvagable?”
“Oh, yes. But it’s going to take a long time. He’s very broken.”
“Have we got it?”
“We need this one. He’s the first Hale I’ve been able to track down.”
Winter, dark-haired and looking remarkably like Summer, emerged into the kitchen. She righted the bell wordlessly, and put the soup and sandwich remains on a tray. “You won’t be taking up your assigned duties for several days,” she said, voice a higher alto than her sister’s.
Carrying the tray balanced on one hand, she took his elbow and guided him through a locked door into a long hallway. One door stood open, revealing a little bed/living space, with a bathroom off one side. She put the tray on the low table, and reached for his wrists.
Then the cuffs fell away. “This is yours.”
Derek felt bad when she put the bell right side up again but he didn’t say a word. He took note that all of them looked the same and had season names. There must be something special about that. He couldn’t honestly find it in himself to care at that moment, a deep, bone deep tired seeping through him after the reality of being out of the market sank in.
He followed her and nodded at what she said, though he didn’t register much, his eyes already drooping. When shown to the room, he was practically dead on his feet. He looked down in amazement as the cuffs fell off, murmuring another thank you as he looked at his still red and scarred looking wrists. They’d be like that for some time, but they were already more healed than they’d been in years and if he hadn’t been so tired, he’d have been amazed and tried to say more than the half mumbled thanks.
Be that as it was, he nodded, understanding this is where he was assigned to stay and that he would do so. He dragged himself into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting to be locked in.
“Please tell one of us if there’s something you need or the things in here don’t suit you or fit.” Winter paused in the doorway for a moment, eyes and smile soft. “Sleep now, Derek. You’re safe here.”
The door stayed open when she left. If he were to close it, he would notice a lock he could throw, on the inside. There were clothes, plain but close to his size, in the drawers of the dresser, and in the closet next to the bathroom. A hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste waited on the counter, and a small first aid kit in the mirrored cabinet.
There was no razor, though.