Auction

"Trissa. Come over here. You need to eat."

I refuse. I will not eat. I will not drink. I will not do anything until the inevitable happens. I will stay right here. I will be by his side as he passes. Because that is all I can do now, and I will damn well do it.

The day is long. The others try to cajole me away several times, but I will not move. I cling to Tore, watching every labored, shallow breath he takes until finally exhaustion draws me down.

* * *

The next day is verymuch the same. Tore is weak, and growing weaker. I overhear conversations nobody should ever have to hear, let alone have.

"...him out of his misery," I hear Silver murmur to Alexios.

"No." Alexios shakes his head. "He may recover."

"He's bleeding out," Silver rumbles softly. "There's the slow death and the quick one. I know which one I'd rather have."

"He has her," Alexios whispers, flicking his eyes to where I lie, cuddled up with Tore. "Let him have her as long as he can."

That ends the conversation, or at least, what I can hear of it.

I am devoid of hope. I am numb with misery. I never wanted to be sold to these men, and now they have laid down their lives for me. Tore has me by his side, but Keanau, Cowboy, Zen, they died holding off the invaders. They died to keep me safe. I owe them a debt I will never, ever be able to repay.

Weak fingers curl around my hand. It's Tore.

He looks into my eyes. I look into his, as best I can through the welling tears.

"I... was always... going to die," he breathes. "But... I... had... you... first."

"I am so sorry," I sob, my hot tears making his pale skin all wet.

I see a spark of light blaze in those stunning blue eyes.

"Worth it."

* * *

Those are the lastwords he ever says.

Another day dawns. I wake with a start, sensing in my sleep that I have missed something important. The body beside me is no longer taut with pain. Instead it is just heavy and hard.

"Tore?"

I reach out to touch him. My fingers brush his cheek. He is cold to the touch. Too cold for any living being. He is gone.

The cry that erupts from my throat is almost inhuman. It wakes the others from their slumbers and it begins the mourning of a man who deserved so much more than this.

It is strange, but there is some odd comfort in him being there. It is just his body, but we are less alone for it. That is twisted, I know, but when my father died, his body was taken by scavengers. I never said goodbye to him. I ran and I ran and when I returned there were just bones, scattered about. I buried them as best I could, alone in the desert. This time, I will not be alone.

"It's my fault," I sob into Silver's neck.

"We are mercenaries," Silver says. "We expect death, court it. We have lost men before. We may again."

"No! No more!"

I can't bear it. Grief is tearing me apart. All my life, everything I have loved has been taken from me. I did not know Tore long, but I did love him. I loved him because he was my first. Because he branded me with his body, left his seed inside me. Because he never took any shit from anyone, and because in the end, he died for me—and I know what it means when a man lays down his life for a woman.

"Shhh," Silver comforts me. "We're not going to die any time soon. That's why we are down here with you, not up there fighting. We're going to look after you."

"You have to promise me you won't die."

"I can't promise that," he says gently. "But I can promise you that none of us are going to forget what Tore and Keanau and Zen and Cowboy did for us."