Chosen: Curse of the Draekon Book One

by Samantha Britt

Remi ushered us to the edge of the room where a screen concealed a small alcove. He instructed us to disrobe and wrap ourselves in the towels located on the other side. When none of us willingly stepped inside, he physically pushed us until we were behind the screen.

  “Be sure to hurry,” he called over the barrier. “We only have a few hours before you are escorted to the Census Bureau.”

  Seeing no other option, I slipped the cotton sleeves over my shoulder and shimmied out of the dress. I retrieved a soft, white towel and firmly wrapped it around my body, tucking the edges in tightly before stepping out.

  Remi waited, nodding as I emerged. “Now, enter in the spa. Careful, though, you may need a second to adjust to the hot water.”

  I followed his instructions and approached the tiled edge of the steamy bath. Dipping my toes in, I instantly wanted to sink my entire body into the blissfully warm water.

  It was my dream bath.

  I left the towel around my body until I was safely submerged. Then, praying the steam kept Remi from seeing too much, I unwrapped the towel and placed the heavy, soaked material onto the floor next to the spa. I found a submerged bench against the wall, and I lowered my body so only my neck and head remained above water.

  I didn’t know why we were being treated to such luxury. It hardly seemed like something you’d provide slaves, but I could not deny that the experience was heavenly given the long days spent in the small carriage.

  Unable to resist, I closed my eyes and leaned the base of my skull against the edge of the spa. A force of water hit my legs, and I realized some of it was being shot out of holes along the wall. I leaned forward and moved my hands against the holes. It took effort to keep it from being pushed away from the stream of water. I wondered how the draekon managed to create the device.

  The surface of the water move as Bridget and Lorie joined me. Both sighed as their bodies adjusted to the temperature.

  Fingers lightly tapped my shoulder. I fought the instinct to whirl around in fear.

  Calmly I looked back and saw Remi holding some of the vials out to me.

  “Here is a moisturizer for your skin, and here is one for your hair….” He looked between the three of us. “You know, I don’t know your names.”

  “Amelissa.” I took the offered vials.

  “Lorie,” my sister called from the other side of the spa.

  “Bridget.”

  Remi dipped his head. “Nice to meet you, ladies. Now, get cleaned up so we can move on to the fun stuff.” He walked around and handed different vials to Lorie and Bridget before he disappeared from the room to give us privacy. I marked the act as chivalrous.

  Torn between enjoying the spa and fulfilling the tasks laid before me, I wasn’t sure what to do. Realizing I didn’t want Remi to enter when I was in the middle of bathing, I decided to follow his instructions and clean my body. I twisted open the vial and inhaled the lovely aroma. It was, by far, nicer than the soap and oils I used at home.

  Fifteen minutes later, Remi returned. All three of us stood in white, fluffy robes, waiting for him.

  “All done?” He bounced with excitement.

  We nodded.

  “Wonderful. Come with me. It’s time for hair and cosmetics.” He sang the last three words, alternating his pitch for emphasis. His excitement was contagious, and even I wanted to chuckle. But the swift return of the reality of my situation stifled the laughter.

  We returned to the glass-wall room and each sat in a black chair, facing a mirror. Remi positioned himself behind me while two different women stood behind my sister and Bridget.

  Remi combed his fingers through my wet hair. I saw his awed expression through the reflection. “The color is stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

  I shifted, uncomfortable with his admiration. “Is blonde hair truly that rare?” I knew that was the case in Caldiri, but I imagined it would not be true of other regions.

  “This shade? Yes. Very rare. Humans used to have more varying colors, but once the draekon arrived and began mixing our bloodlines, this golden yellow has been masked by their darker shades.”

  I frowned at my reflection in the silver-framed mirror, wondering how my siblings and I managed to inherit the rare color.

  As if reading my mind, Remi asked, “Is your family from another continent?”

  I remembered his comment about my ancestors being recent immigrants.

  I shrugged, but it was Lorie who said, “We don’t know. We don’t know our parents or their families.”

  I rotated my neck and gave her a disapproving look.

  She sat in the chair beside me and raised her eyebrows.

  “Really?” Remi used his fingers to force my head forwards again. “That’s sad.”

  I didn’t want his pity. “It’s fine.”

  Sensing my mood, he dropped the subject. “I recommend we cut your hair to here.” He placed his hand on the middle of my back. “Thoughts?”

  I shook my head. “I defer to your judgment.” I cared very little about my hair length. I had bigger things to worry about.

  He nodded, retrieved a comb, and began working through my long locks. He hit a couple of snags, but not nearly as many as he would on a normal day. I attributed the lack of tangles to the fine oil I had used.

  Once my hair was flat, Remi cut the ends into a straight line. Then he talked me through the process of layering the edges. “It will give it more dimension,” he explained.

  I wasn’t sure what he meant. I just nodded.

  As Remi worked, I found myself conjuring up scenarios of what awaited us next. He said we would go to the Census Bureau. Was that where we were able to say we didn’t want to be companions?

  I’d thought Draek would be a dreary place. I’d pictured dark skies and cave-like dwellings with humans toiling throughout the day while the draekon reveled in their lives of luxury. I’d anticipated an unhappy and miserable city, but I’d seen no evidence of such things. In fact, my short experience had painted the opposite picture.

  The capital was stunning and bright, and Remi—a recruit—actually seemed happy to be living and working in Draek.

  But even with those facts, I couldn’t rationalize away my fears.

  What if we weren’t actually allowed to pick our positions?

  What if we were forced to become companions against our will?

  Dread slithered across my skin as my mind continued to wander the disparaging path.

  “Lissy, relax.”

  I looked up and saw my sister’s worried face. She gazed at me through my mirror. “Relax,” she repeated, looking pointedly at my hands grasping the armrests of the chair.

  I loosened my grip.

  Remi heard the exchange, but he said nothing.

  I sat without thought or feeling as Remi continued to work with my hair.

  I didn’t object as he began applying cosmetics to my cheeks, eyelids, and lips.

  I did not hesitate to change into the long, flowing dress he pulled from a nearby closet, nor did I protest when he trimmed my nails and buffed their surfaces.

  I did everything Remi asked and even sat quietly when the male in white pants and a black tunic arrived to assess my health. The draekon physician measured the pulse at my wrist, inspected my mouth for lesions or any other sign of disease, and confirmed with Remi that he found no critters in my hair or on my body.

  Once satisfied that I was a healthy specimen, he performed the same task with Lorie and Bridget.

  Soon after, Remi guided me to a wall with a floor-length mirror. I looked at myself. My hair shined brightly, and the strands curled at the end as they fell over my shoulder. My complexion had always been clear, but Remi enhanced the feature with a light pink hue over my cheekbones. The dark blue of my eyes stood out, highlighted by his skillful use of dark and light powders on my eyelids and lashes.

  I looked pretty. There was no denying it, but my stomach twisted with disgust when I thought about the only reason why we would be receiving such trea
tment—we were meant to attract draekon.

  Standing at my side, Remi fidgeted. “What do you think?”

  “You are very talented.” It was the truth. I wouldn’t waste my energy with expressing my disdain for the purpose of the makeover to Remi. He was, after all, just doing his job.

  Instead, I convinced myself to save my energy for later. I knew I’d need to have it once we encountered the next part of our recruitment journey.

  14

  The Census Bureau’s foyer was filled with people. Uniformed draekon stood in each doorway, monitoring those who came in and out. They wore the same black, leather uniform as the census agents. I immediately distrusted them.

  Business chatter, shouts of dismay, and handshakes covered the scene as Agent Min led our trio into the building. Two strange female agents flanked us.

  I made a point to keep my posture straight and my eyes forward. The long, cream-colored gown and its sheer, overlying fabric threatened to trip me at any moment, but I took care to avoid the potentially disastrous material. Several draekon and human males stopped to observe us, their eyes lighting with interest. The reaction was different from the first building, and I knew the bridal-looking dress and cosmetics were to blame. We’d entered the first building as dirty Caldiri recruits, and we exited looking like prime companion candidates.

  I fought the urge to discourage the male’s attention with a frown, especially those which landed on my sister, but there was no point.

  What would a frown do?

  Absolutely nothing.

  Still, none of us acknowledged their leers or hushed comments as we wove through the crowded building. I did not so much as look their direction.

  No, my focus was trained on what was to come.

  Agent Min pulled on a metal door—the first I’d ever seen—and held it open. The three of us entered, followed by all three agents. The new room seemed bland. Only a long table stood in the space. Seven draekon sat in chairs, flipping through papers in front of them. They weren’t agents or guards. The individuals at the table looked like normal, everyday people, but the sight was deceptive. The moment my gaze locked onto their deep, black irises, I knew we faced a table of draekon.

  “Caldiri recruits. Females,” Agent Min announced. He held a hand for us to stop before he approached the table.

  An elderly male looked up from the papers in his hand.

  Gods, he must be ancient.

  It was well-known draekon’s lifespans far surpassed that of humans. I’d once heard the current king was more than 800 years old, but I’d seen portraits of him, and the ruler of our continent didn’t look a day past fifty. I couldn’t imagine how old the draekon in front of us must be to look so aged.

  The male’s black eyes scanned us from head to toe. “Pretty ones, I see.”

  “Indeed,” Agent Min replied.

  I held my breath as the male continued to observe us. I felt exposed despite knowing I wasn’t. The fabric of my newest dress was flowing and light, but it covered everything.

  The draekon pressed his hand against his lips. He didn’t bother to address us directly. “Have they decided their lifestyle?”

  Lifestyle? That was a new way to spin recruitment.

  Agent Min turned back to face us, lifting a brow. “I am unsure. Amelissa?” He said my name without hesitation, selecting me as the first to choose my fate.

  Feeling multiple sets of eyes land on me, I steadied my voice despite feeling like I was going to vomit. “Yes, Agent Min?”

  “Which market would you like to enter?”

  I stared at him for a moment. “Excuse me?”

  The older draekon sighed, looking to each side of the table. He made eye contact with his colleagues and answered for Agent Min. “Which marketing pool do you wish to enter? Labor or Companion?”

  I faltered, not entirely trusting the fact I would actually have a choice. “Labor,” I answered.

  The old male’s expression shifted from exasperation to surprise. “Really?”

  I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. “Yes.”

  He tsked loudly. “That is a shame. You would make a great companion.”

  I said nothing. In my mind, companion… partner… mate… each of the words equaled sex slave. Maybe that wasn’t the reality, but I had no information to the contrary. There was no way I’d risk such a fate.

  The draekon allowed another moment to pass before he acknowledged the stubborn set of my jaw. “Very well. Labor it is. What is your name for the documentation?”

  “Amelissa Allaway of Caldiri.”

  He scribbled the information before turning his eyes to my right. “And you, lass. What is your name?”

  “Alorie Allaway.”

  Several draekon shifted. Surprised murmurs left their lips.

  “Sisters?” the head draekon asked, though I suspected he already knew the answer.

  “Yes, sir,” Lorie answered.

  Murmurs floated between the draekon. Even they were shocked that siblings were chosen in the same census.

  “Interesting.” He let the word hang in the air before continuing, “and which market do you choose, young one?”

  I waited to hear her immediate response, but I was disappointed by a loaded pause. Swinging around, I let my incredulous gaze land on her. Lorie saw my reaction but swiftly turned away to avoid it.

  What in the stars?

  “Child?” A female draekon, looking younger than the former but still older than most, prompted. “Do you have a choice?”

  “I-I am not really sure of the difference.” Lorie’s words threatened to undo the tenuous hold on my sanity.

  What was she doing?

  I knew Lorie was sixteen. She could make her own choices. But I thought we both planned to stick together. If she became a companion, who knew if we would ever see each other again.

  My anxiety and fear escalated with each passing moment.

  “You are from Caldiri.” Understanding filled her expression. “Of course.”

  Did everyone know about our lack of knowledge? Were we the only region in the kingdom that knew so little?

  I exhaled quietly, resenting our ignorance and whatever force caused us to be so unprepared for our new reality.

  “The Labor market is what it sounds like: employers looking for workers. There are dozens of positions to choose from. The companion market is a temporary holding place for humans willing to enter relationships with draekon, but those spots are more coveted. Interested recruits can enter the companion market. If approved by one of the draekon in charge, they are excused from finding employment. Instead, they begin their search for a compatible draekon companion,” the first male explained in a bland tone. He’d probably made the speech a hundred times.

  My jaw dropped as he explained the companion market as anything less than what it was—a draekon’s personal field of fertile men and women. Any of which he or she could pluck and force them to provide children.

  “W-what type of jobs?” Bridget asked from my left. I forced myself to not turn around.

  “Pardon?” A different draekon asked from the panel.

  “The labor market,” she said. “What types of jobs are available?”

  “All sorts. Though the jobs that place you in direct contact with draekon are reserved for the most attractive recruits.”

  Lorie tilted her head. “Why?”

  “Many times, such a position will result in the human being selected as a draekon’s companion.” He made it sound like every human’s goal was to become a companion, as if it was some sort of coveted prize.

  “Do those humans had a choice when being “selected” as a draekon’s companion.” I couldn’t hold back the question. If a human chose labor, what would make them agree to becoming a companion?”

  The female draekon on the end spoke up, “Sometimes humans change their mind.”

  I blinked. I had nothing to say to that.

  I felt the air shift as Bridget inched closer to me.
“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

  I finally turned to her. I didn’t say a word, but my expression made my opinion clear. She observed me for a moment.

  “I choose labor,” she said to the panel, choosing to follow my lead.

  “Pity,” the elderly draekon exhaled, shaking his head. “Name?”

  “Bridget Pool.”

  He wrote it down.

  “I, too, choose labor,” Lorie said. My shoulders slump, showing my relief.

  “So be it.” The draekon raised a hand, done with us. Agent Min stepped forward, gesturing towards the back corner of the room where a lone door stood, blending into the walls around it.

  The subsequent hallway walls were bare, nothing like the entryway of the building. Fewer draekon and humans crossed our path as we were led to the labor market.

  At least, that’s where I believed we were going.

  I pictured a room with a dominating draekon acting as an auctioneer. I imagined him calling humans and allowing draekon to bid on them like prized cattle.

  I imagined guards restraining resisting recruits, forcing them to leave with their new owners, dragging them out of the dark, damp labor market to their unknown fate.

  What I didn’t expect to see was a large, bright space. Its ceiling was at least fifty feet high and its width more than 200 feet.

  The room was divided in two; I guessed between labor and companion markets. Agents bordered the room, but they did not engage the recruits. Only the well-dressed male and female draekon ventured into the crowd of humans, stopping to speak to those who caught their interest.

  Agent Min moved us to the left side of the room, the labor side. I was taken aback when I saw more recruits standing on the companion side. In fact, their number was almost double. A part of me wanted to judge them for their choice, but I knew that wasn’t fair. Everyone had their reasons for the choices they made.

  An attractive male with a clipboard approached our group. I eyed his loose black pants and casual shirt. He did not look up. “Names?”

  Agent Min relayed our names, ages, and home region. The draekon documented the information. When he finished, he finally moved his attention to us.

  His eyes widened, and his mouth popped open. The clipboard juggled in his hands.