Kylie wasn’t sure if she was more terrified, or pissed off. Everything had been going great, it was a normal supplies raid on the eastern part of the city, when suddenly her group had been attacked. They were outnumbered and had less firepower, and it was a matter of minutes before two thirds of her squad was dead, the other few in chains or unconscious.
From there it had been what were known as the stockyards, where slaves were cleaned, trained, and occasionally healed, if they were lucky. Kylie, being healthy and fairly attractive as well as small, was chosen to be a blood slave. This meant they just gave her a cleansing to make sure her blood was satisfactory, and no training.
Now she was standing on the stage at the auction house, shackled and shamed as a crowd leered up at her as if she was a hunk of meat. Which, now that she considered her audience, she was.