Sable’s POV

I'm standing on a line with eleven other slave women, barefoot and oiled and waiting to be picked by a gladiator to be fucked brutally.

Three days ago I had a home, and younger siblings I could give the world to, and a father who I didn’t realize had grew tired of me. Then the debts caught up and the collectors came and my father sold me for fourteen silver pieces without looking at my face while he counted.

That's the price he sold his eldest daughter. Less than a horse, and more than a goat.

I haven't cried since. Rage is more useful than tears and I've...