Wanderlust Beastkin, Beauty and the Beastkin

Elara’s Perspective

I awoke with a horrible migraine and weak all over. My arms hurt and I felt strange...confused. My surroundings were blurry and the air smelled strongly of flowers.

"Wha...go...ing on?" My body felt heavy and it was difficult to talk...my voice sounded weird.

My skull throbbed like a drum, lolling to one side as if it had a mind of its own. I was sort of on my feet? Maybe? My arms were up in the air, above me? I could really use some of that stuff Perla called deodorant right about now. Where the hell is Perla? Oh right, she’s gone, but she’s still got my back. She sent someone... Beck. That guy is the hottest thing on two legs, and I’m dying to show him just how long a wolf girl’s tongue can stretch.

This wasn’t the time for those thoughts... Where the hell was I, and what was going on? I blinked fiercely, trying to dispel the haze clouding my mind and steady the whirlpool in my skull. Had it always felt this heavy? I couldn’t remember it being such a weight. I turned my head, and there it was—something next to me, bright red and glimmering like a sinister gem. Just then, a searing light sliced through my vision, flooding everything with a blinding white that made my head throb even more. My eyes felt like they were glued to a stove, searing and unyielding.

As my eyes began to adjust to the brightness, clarity crept back into my mind, and the fog in my vision started to lift. At first, all I could see was a sea of red... red... so much red. Then, I noticed a girl standing before me. She had short blond hair that barely brushed the nape of her neck. Her frame was alarmingly thin, and I could see the outline of her ribs through the sheer red dress adorned with tiny, clear gems.

I glared at her back, a storm brewing in my chest. What was it about her that made her look so famished, and why was she parading around in something that barely concealed anything, especially in front of everyone, not just her mates? Why was I fixated on her? I blinked hard, and my gaze fell on the scanty fabric clinging to her form beneath that short dress, just enough to cover the essentials. Ugh, I sounded just like my uptight mother nagging in my head. A chill swept through the air, raising goosebumps on my skin and clearing my thoughts, though part of me wished it hadn’t.

I found myself back in a place I had vowed never to revisit. All around me, girls wore the same scandalously short dresses, the sheer material shimmering with gems that sparkled like twisted trophies of convenience, meant to ward off unwanted pregnancies. The girls around me had their arms lifted high, a pose that felt grotesquely unnatural. Some blinked in confusion, others tilted their heads in a daze, and a few even drooled, lost in a fog of emptiness. I was stuck in the second row, right in the heart of it all, bound to the pergola’s ceiling, dressed in the same tiny red dress as the rest.

Before us, males were being ushered by attendants toward twenty plush seats. The attendants and the females they brought stood around those seats, which rested on a massive slab of rock. As the males approached, the females walked on leashes, tethered to the stone, their gazes cast downward. But once their leashes were secured, they lifted their eyes to the pergola, staring at us with a mix of emotions. Some leashed females looked at us with pity, while others wore expressions of delight, perhaps reveling in our shared misery or simply seeking companionship from this bizarre spectacle. I wanted to empathize with their suffering, but my own predicament demanded my focus.

As the last of the males settled into their seats, their leashed companions tethered beside them, a figure strode into the gathering with an air of self-importance. Clad in a golden robe that shimmered under the dim light, he flaunted a grandiose hat crafted from a ring of blue and white feathers, a proud emblem of Duarte Village. In his hand, he wielded a staff, gnarled and brown, topped with a massive fire elemental stone the size of my fist, a deep crimson that pulsed with latent energy. He must have been a feeble fire user or simply relished the illusion of power that such a hefty stone provided, amplifying his magic beyond its natural limits. The sight of that staff ignited a fierce longing within me; if only I could claim it for myself. With a potent tool like that, I could finally harness my flames and bend them to my will, and that was the very thing I craved in this moment.

I had heard whispers of elemental stones, each etched with ancient runes, capable of amplifying a user’s power. My curiosity was piqued as I scoured the shadows for alternatives, just in case my aura didn’t glow with the expected yellow. The thought of commissioning a discreet piece to slip into the hunter’s guild was tempting, but the price was steep. I eventually manifested my yellow aura, banishing those thoughts to the dark corners of my mind. Crafting such a stone was no small feat; it demanded a pact with a fae, a deity, or a legendary beastkin skilled in the art of runes. Fae were notoriously secretive, and approaching them was a gamble—one could just as easily walk away cursed as blessed. Unless, of course, you had a bond with one or could offer a favor that piqued their interest.

I couldn’t afford to dwell on that right now; my mind had to stay sharp. But it was clear they had slipped something into our systems, leaving us dazed and vulnerable. My magic felt distant, shrouded in a fog that made it hard to grasp. Using it here, surrounded by so many drugged and shackled girls, was out of the question. They might not all be fire users, but I had no idea what powers they possessed. Even if they did wield flames, their magic could backfire if they weren’t strong enough, and I was certain the only other girl with a yellow aura was Skye.

Where was she? I scanned the faces of the girls tethered to the pergola, panic rising when I realized she was missing. Then I spotted her—across the way, perched on the lap of a hulking bear beastkin. She wore scant strips of white fabric, a collar and leash around her neck, her expression a mix of confusion and bliss. Two other girls stood by the beastkin’s chair, their bodies marred with clear claw marks, dressed in matching outfits to Skye’s. No! How had she ended up there? And where is Beck?

The arrogant male strode in front of the seated figures, his back turned to us as if we were mere shadows, unworthy of his gaze. "Feel free to browse our collection before the hunt begins. As you can see, one purchase has already been made, so our little bat girl is off the market, but there are plenty of other enticing treasures just waiting for you to snatch them up and take them home. All the females on display have been stripped of their rights and family ties, so they are yours to command as you please. We only ask that you remove them from Duarte Village and refrain from bringing them back, to avoid any misunderstandings. Each one comes with documentation of servitude, ensuring you won’t face charges for any mistreatment should complications arise."

A low murmur of approval rippled through the seated men, a sound that sent a chill down my spine.

Beck’s Perspective

I should have seen it coming, but my mind was consumed with extinguishing the waves of flames erupting from Elara. I was so engrossed in battling the inferno that I failed to recognize the truth: not all the smoke swirling around me was from the fire. Some of it was a sleeping gas seeping in through that shattered window. As I fought to quell the blaze, a wave of weakness washed over me, which I foolishly attributed to smoke inhalation. How wrong I was!

By the time the reality of the situation dawned on me, I found myself pressed against the floor, bound and helpless, while the girls were being dragged away. That despicable bear beastkin, that vile, abusive fiend, had struck with a cowardly ambush. He thought he had the advantage, but he had no idea who he was dealing with. He would not escape this unscathed.

I can feel the effects of the drug suppressing my magic, just out of reach, taunting me. But mark my words, the moment I regain my powers, breaking free will be a mere formality. I will hunt down those girls, and he will pay dearly for his heinous actions.

Coming Next Time: Unexpected