Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 172: Worth a lot

The first three days were excruciating to get through for Violet, and it only got worse. The only reprieve she got was that, for some reason, the guards hadn’t been allowed to unlock the cell. Their insults grew nastier each day as they flashed their bodies at her every time they delivered food a dog wouldn’t dare to eat.

Most days, Violet cried until there were no more tears left to shed, sitting on the filthy ground, unable to do anything about her circumstances. She couldn’t even bring herself to hope that Cain would somehow find her, considering she had been the one to leave of her own volition.

On the fourth day, too weak to stand, Violet leaned against the wall, not knowing what time of day it was and mostly not caring. She kept her blank gaze fixed on the opposite wall until she heard footsteps—slow and deliberate—growing louder until they stopped in front of her cell.

Violet didn’t even have the strength to look up, and even if she did, she was sure she wouldn’t have cared. Then, a voice—soft yet firm—broke through the silence, and her brows jerked up in surprise.

"Damn! This is why you can’t allow dogs to do a man’s job!" the voice mumbled aloud.

Violet turned her gaze to see a well-dressed woman in a black suit that clung to her curves. A soft smile rested on her face, though the two guards who had been tormenting Violet quickly began to apologize, their frantic demeanor revealing just how far below her rank they were.

"Madam Zarrida! We fed her, but she refused every single meal!" the bald one blurted out.

The taller, skinnier one nodded vigorously and rushed to add his own defense.

"Yes! She wouldn’t even come closer to take it, no matter how much we tried to coax her. I think there’s something wrong with her mind. She’s not completely—"

He never got to finish.

Madam Zarrida pulled open her jacket, revealing a gun holstered at her side. In a split second, she drew it, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Violet stumbled back in shock, her mouth agape, watching as the taller guard dropped, blood pooling beneath him. The bald one screamed, stumbling backward with his hands raised before dropping to his knees.

"I swear it! You can ask her! We served her all her meals like we were supposed to and—"

Another gunshot rang out, echoing in the underground bunker. The bald guard’s body crumpled, a hole in his skull.

A perfect shot.

"Good help is so hard to find," Madam Zarrida sighed, sliding her gun back into its holster before turning to Violet.

For the first time in days, Violet felt a flicker of hope as she silently stared at the woman.

Is she a cop or something? Am I being rescued?

With effort, she pushed herself to her feet, using the wall for support, and shuffled closer to the entrance of the cell. She hadn’t bathed in days, but at that moment, the last thing she cared about was how she looked.

"A-Are you getting me out of here?" she asked in a whisper, her voice filled with cautious relief and desperation.

Madam Zarrida gave a light shrug. "Of course!"

Violet’s breath hitched as the woman continued speaking, her words turning that fragile hope into ice.

"...You were directly sold to me. At first, I thought harvesting your eyes and organs was all the use I could get from you, but then I found a buyer."

Silence.

Violet swayed where she stood, struggling to process what she had just heard.

Madam Zarrida kept talking, oblivious—or perhaps completely aware—of the horror dawning on Violet’s face.

"Of course, if there’s a buyer, there are bound to be others interested, which is why you’re being auctioned off—but definitely not in this state." She sighed, sounding almost exasperated.

Violet’s body trembled, the weight of realization crashing over her. If the guards had been demons, then the woman standing before her was the devil himself.

Madam Zarrida’s soft smile remained, devoid of cruelty, almost friendly. If someone had walked in at that moment, they might have thought they were acquaintances catching up.

"A-Auction?" Violet’s voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and weak.

She took a step back, instinctively trying to distance herself from the woman.

Zarrida nodded, raising her hand and smashing it against the lock. It broke effortlessly under her strength.

Violet’s eyes widened as a soft glow flickered in the woman’s brown irises.

She’s—No! A-a werewolf! You’re a werewolf!

Violet gasped, her pulse racing. She had expected to avoid werewolves in the lower districts, yet here she was, trapped with one.

Zarrida stepped inside the cell, her tall frame looming over Violet, who barely reached her shoulder.

"...And you’re a witch without powers. With eyes like that, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long."

Violet barely had time to react before Zarrida reached for her. She tried to dodge, but the woman was impossibly fast.

A rough shove sent Violet crashing into the wall, and before she could recover, Zarrida’s hand clamped around her head, pinning her in place.

"I don’t know who brought you in, but I’m the last person you want to go against."

She bared her teeth, and even in the dim light, Violet could see they had been sharpened—intentionally.

"I can still sell you with only one functioning hand. It’s the thing between your legs they want, not your ability to do chores."

Her tone turned even colder. Violet opened her mouth to speak, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Wh-What if I buy myself? What if there’s a way to—"

She never got to finish.

A blinding pain erupted in her head, her vision darkening as consciousness slipped from her grasp.

"The fact that a bloody witch like you isn’t dead is something you should be thankful for."

—

The next time Violet stirred, all she could feel was the violent thumping in her skull. Muffled voices argued nearby, their words growing clearer with each second.

"She’s a witch! The fact that she hasn’t put a curse on you... on all of us is a miracle. Why is she still alive?"

"Relax, Vaddum! The person assured me she’s never learned magic, and I confirmed it. Why do you think I left her in that cell with those idiots for four days? Any witch with even the slightest bit of magic would have been able to escape and kill those bastards, even at the detriment of her own health."

"I wouldn’t put us in danger."

"...Well! You clearly did! Is she even worth that much? Look at her. Even cleaned up, the only thing that stands out is the color of her eyes and her pale skin."

"Yes! She’s worth a lot! A whole lot! Someone wants her and is willing to pay for it. Of course, I’ll have to hide the color of her eyes, but think about it—"

Zarrida pulled a check from her pocket, flashing it toward her brother. Vaddum’s eyes flickered in shock at the amount.

"—How much do you think they’ll be willing to pay to stop others from getting her?"

She smirked as realization dawned in her brother’s expression.

"A freaking lot."