Page 10 of Bought By the Cerberus
“I always mean exactly what I say.” Charon tapped the obsidian altar with his pole. “A happy memory, to join the bride market. It’s fairly straightforward.”
“But I don’t have any happiness to give you,” I protested. Gods, I should have known this was too good to be true. “There’s nothing worth taking.”
“Everyone carries happiness, even those who’ve suffered greatly,” Charon said, his low voice somehow rising over my returning panic. “I will find what you’ve forgotten.”
It was possible. I’d been a child once. I’d played with my sisters. My mother had sung to me as she showed me how to pick herbs. My father had smiled when he came back from hard days in the fields.
Those moments were only faded dreams now, but if anyone could track them down, it would be Charon.
I glanced back at Theron, whose eyes burned with the need to protect me. He’d saved me when I had nothing left. This creature who should terrify me felt like safety itself. “I’ll pay. Take whatever happiness you can find.”
“Very good.” Charon nodded in approval. Coins emerged from his ancient robes and started spinning around him. “With this, you’ll have earned your right to enter the bride market. Monsters will bid for you, and you will choose your own fate.”
I already knew what I’d choose. I had, from the moment Theron had walked into the healing chamber. “I understand. What do you need?”
Charon grabbed two worn coins and held them up against the light. “Lie upon the altar. You need to stay calm and composed. Do not fight the ritual. I will do the rest.”
I took a shuddering breath and complied, settling on my back on the altar. It reminded me far too much of my trial, but I tried to force back my panic. “Will it hurt?”
“No more than letting go of anything you’ve held too tightly.” Charon approached with the coins gleaming in his palms. “To prevent pain, the memory will not fade immediately, but after your first sleep. Now, close your eyes.”
I obeyed, and cool metal settled over my eyelids. The coins felt heavier than they should have been, as if they carried the choices of everyone who’d paid this price before me.
Charon’s palms pressed against my forehead with unexpected kindness. His skin felt warm despite the supernatural cold radiating from his presence. “Hold still.”
The extraction began like something being gently drawn from deep water. A tugging sensation in my mind, not painful but strange. Something precious was slipping away, but I couldn’t say what. Like watching something beautiful through increasingly thick glass until it vanished completely.
I felt the moment when whatever piece of my past he’d found disappeared entirely. An empty space where something had been, though I couldn’t say what. The absence didn’t hurt. It just felt like a door closing on something I’d never see again.
“It is done.” Charon lifted his hands from my forehead, the warmth leaving with them. “Your commitment is accepted.”
He lifted the coins from my eyes, and I had no idea what precious piece of myself now belonged to him. Strangely, I didn’t mind. By Theron’s side, I felt safe. That was more precious than any distant, supposedly happy memory could ever be.
Chapter 4
The Bride Market
Theron
InmostcitiesofAlia Terra, bride markets were a tradition. A gift to those women and those monsters that Marriage Temples, for whatever reason, turned away.
To us, the bride market was more than that. It was a privilege. Death-touched brides were so rare that sometimes, decades could pass before one arrived in Asphodelia. The Agora of Echoes had been silent and joyless for more years than I could count. But not tonight.
I stepped into the amphitheater, and the sight hit me harder than I’d expected. Monsters filled every tier of seating around the massive chamber. Minotaurs stamped their hooves against the benches, their brass rings shining in the firelight. A group of basilisks coiled together near the upper tiers, and harpies nested nearby, preening their feathers.
By my side, Skaros let out an irritated rumble. Aion squeezed his shoulder. Neither of them liked crowds, but they’d come with me in a show of support. I appreciated it more than I could ever say.
“Half of Asphodelia showed up tonight,” Skaros commented. “Most brought their entire hoards. But it doesn’t matter, right?”
“Not for me,” I replied. “The end result is clear. Callista has already made her choice.”
Down below, the circular obsidian stage lay empty. The carved bone rostrum was still waiting for the auction’s overseer, and it seemed almost as eager as we were.
“Seven brides in one night,” a minotaur bellowed in enthusiasm. “When’s the last time that happened?”
“My grandfather told stories about markets like this,” another offered, anticipation threading through each word.
A few nekroi sat in the lower benches, a rare appearance in bride markets. Their presence confirmed what the excited murmurs suggested. Tonight would be special.
