So, what if their lips were perfect cupid bows?

Our hairs were combed, perfumed, oiled, and styled.

I gasped softly as the stylist yanked my hair and although I know she was putting it yet into another intricate braided pattern like the one on Number 1's hair, I couldn't help but believe with her tight unforgiving hold on my hair that she wanted it to be as painful as possible.

Different colourful flowers were crafted into crowns and placed on our uptight braided hair and we applied the rosemary perfume we were being given after our bathe each day on our exposed neck since we all wore the same strapless wine-colored floor-length gown with a slit that stopped mere inches from our hips.

The flash of our skin could be seen as we all walked out of the room and to the hallways were we stood in the order of our numbers. The highest first before the others and I took my positon, my face blank.

Hazel was shivering and I wished I knew what I could tell her to ease her mind, she was the one that did the easing and I felt terrible that today she needed a kind word no one could utter one. But, I also couldn't tell her a lie by assuring her that some sick miracle she won't be taken and I also couldn't find a way to make living with a beast and possibly having sex with him a less-gag-worthy idea.

We heard the thud of footsteps and regardless of how many times we have heard it in the past, my breath hitched like always as we wondered if we would be meeting a ravenous beast with paws that will examine us with claws out ready to scratch at any provocation.

Someone gasped and goosebumps broke on my skin but when I looked up I didn't see a beast beside Mr. Grant a man I never thought I could ever see not being upright and stern because now, he was nervously shaking and looked pained.

And the men next to him couldn't possibly be human. Identical cobalt blue eyes, skin so pale and perfectly contrasted with jet black hair. Their long lashes fluttered and I would have called them beautiful if not for those high sharp jawline and a chin that remained in the air and I doubt that they knew any other way to keep them.

Like down-down-down. In shame when you had done nothing but your existence alone seems like a crime and you are supposed to be grateful to the men who sell you to just anybody for a bag of golden coins or two.

Although I would have liked to say that both men were identical, they weren't. Their features looked like something photo shopped by horny female teenagers and women would kill for such eyelashes and shiny hair.

But while one had a grin on his face as he leered at us, his eyes bright and his hair neatly combed and parted in a manner that told you he took great pride in his looks, the other had a scowl like he'll rather take being in hell than in here. Well, that makes two of us.

But his appearance, although he seemed nonchalant about his physical features, everything was perfect. So perfect that a chill went down my spine as I kept staring at him. He was dressed in black pants and a white button-down that was loosely tucked in and open at the collar. his crown sat perfectly on top of his almost cut-to-the-scalp black hair and when I looked up, I choked in shock.

He was looking straight at me. He had caught me staring.

I looked away, my breath ricocheting.

He held power, power that was recognizable even without the crown sitting on his head. His presence commands attention even though he is wearing drawstrings and an old looking polo with hole although I couldn't imagine the man in front of me wearing anything that wasn't pristine.

Even, Hazel had stopped shaking and seem mesmerized by the men in front of us. I didn't know what to make of the fact that the men in front of us look like men, they didn't have claws and as one of them with the pleasant smile took a step towards us, his eyes landed on Hazel and I almost grinned.

I doubt she would have issues being pinned by such a beautiful man against the bed, although I doubt that their physical appearance changed a thing for me about them.

They were monsters, they fed on us. So, what if their lips were perfect cupid bows and one of them had red lips that made my thought stray to things that should be prohibited and never mentioned? They were murderers, bloodsuckers, and Devils.

"Your Majesties," Mr. Grant said with a shiver and I bat my lashes with interest but I didn't dare look up. I have already attracted attention to myself with my wandering gaze. Of course, they were royals, the man with the crown already oozed so much power and they both looked like they expected respect from everyone, like Mr. Grant's stuttering was a birthright thrust at them.

"… If you are not impressed by these girls, I could show off our youngest, most beautiful collections__"

Collections? I almost scoffed. Like we were pieces of jewelry, clothes or shoes, not humans entitled to thoughts, dreams, or wants. I spared a glance at Hazel and if I didn't know better I'll think it was disappointment that shone in her eyes as she kept staring at the grinning Prince whose eyes strayed on her full breast for a full 10 seconds before his gaze strayed to 10's expansive hips.

"Look up," a sonorous voice between tenor and bass ordered in a gravelly low tone that made my womb clench.

I didn't want to think of what that means when I slowly lifted my gaze and met two spectacular eyes staring at me. I was wrong with my earlier description, he didn't have cobalt blue eyes like his brother, his was turquoise; Greenish-blue hard impatient eyes that nevertheless sent a flutter to the bottom of my belly.

"She is__" Mr. Grant rushed towards us. "She is dumb and is not a fit for a man of your class. Number 6 is our most prestigious __" The man before me lifted his right hand and Mr. Grant's eyes widened before he clamped his mouth shut and the authority in that one exchange should make me wet my undies but when his hand held mine, I couldn't help but notice how big and nice his were.

Like a big fool led to a slaughterhouse, I was lost to the sensation of his warm hand and standing close to him that I didn't notice the way everybody was looking at me with their mouth wide, with their eyes shining with both admiration and fear, I could have noticed the lingering jealous gaze of Hazel on my joined hands with the terrifyingly beautiful man before me.

But it all dawn on me what had happened when he opened his mouth and said words I never anticipated hearing in all these years.

"From today all rights of Number 14 is now transferred to me, Crown Prince Damien and she is now my pet," he held my gaze and I shivered. He smirked at me. "I own you now,"

Before I could say a word he whisked me away but not before I could see from the corner of my eyes, his brother bringing out bags of coin from his sachet attached to his gossamer-like traditional ornately designed dress shirt and matching slacks.

And then the reality of what had happened dawned on me. I have been bought by this man, this cold man. A crown prince nevertheless that had been in the frontline and had slaughtered lots of my kind with his unforgiving stare before the steel of his sword plunged into their chest.

I now belong to a vampire. My mouth became dry and I swallowed.

And when the other Prince joined us, I just watched the sky and I let the man beside me shove me to a foreign but very expensive looking car.

I have been locked inside of the big building I now stare at as the foreign looking gate in front of us opened for three years but somehow my eyes were not feasting on a world that was ours but no longer belonged to us. Because, my heart told me that I have just escaped from one cage to another one that I will never be free of.

Everything was foreign looking, strange. The crosswalks, beautiful immortal looking men joking with men that looked like Mr. Grant (Human) on uniform and the look of fear in their eyes as they halted and saluted immediately they saw our car felt tangible; like it could be seen and held.

The ashen white faces of civilians that walked on bare feet with dirty clothes and a tag held by a rope that was hung around their necks and although I couldn't see what was inscribed on their card, although I had a hunch it was no number, I couldn't help but feel like their lives were not any different from mine. We all had our collars, the only difference is that they couldn't be sold like pieces of clothes.

I didn't want to act like I had it worse, but I probably did because I will comfortably pick looking dirty and walking barefooted to sitting between a scowling murderer and a grinning thief who had taken everything from us and in exchange made us slave in our own land.

I hated them. I hate them so much that I shivered. I hated them so much that I was disgusted, I hated them so much that I bent down and with my hand covering my face I cried.

Ashamed, defeated, feeling like nothing.

I hated all of them devils and bloodsuckers.