HUNGRY PALPITATION

The raw iron of the cage had left a permanent, throbbing ache across Edwin’s collarbones, but the freezing mountain air during the march had been worse. He was a prisoner of war, captured on the southern borderlands when his regiment was routed by the Matriarchy’s vanguard. Most of the men had been slaughtered on the spot. The few survivors had been stripped to their smallclothes, thrown into heavy iron wagons, and hauled north like cattle toward the Velvet Crown.

He didn’t know how he had managed to slip the rusted pin from his wrist-shackles during the chaos of the city gates opening. He just remembered running. Running through dark alleys, dodging the heavy boots of patrolling female guards, until his feet were bleeding and his lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass.

Now, the adrenaline was gone, replaced by a freezing, hollow desperation.

Edwin caught himself against a massive stone pillar at the edge of the central plaza, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. The heavy, sweet scent of crushed lavender and expensive incense from the market stalls filled his nose, contrasting sharply with the smell of sweat and dried blood on his own skin. He looked down at himself, a cold sweat breaking out. He was standing there in nothing but his torn, dirt-smudged grey cotton boxers.

“What the hell am I going to do...” he muttered, his voice sounding tiny against the open air.

He looked out into the plaza, and his stomach plummeted. He had ended up in the middle of a massive, open-air square made of dark, polished marble. Towering crimson banners snapped in the wind against a sky the color of a bruised plum. But it wasn’t the grand architecture that froze him solid. It was the crowd.

Every single person walking by was a woman. And they completely dominated the space.

High-ranking nobles draped in heavy silk capes walked alongside wealthy merchant women, but their clothes were completely open, sheer, or cut away to expose full breasts, toned midriffs, and long legs. Whether they were young or mature, nobody seemed to care about hiding anything. It was a cultural display of absolute power and pride.

An hour ago, when Edwin had first slipped into the city, his immediate instinct had been to survive. He had crept up behind a clothing stall, his hand reaching for a thick woolen tunic hanging from a rack. But before his fingers could touch the fabric, a blood-curdling scream had echoed down the alley.

He had ducked behind a crate, watching in absolute horror as a local woman—caught stealing a handful of silver coins from a jeweler—was dragged into the street by three towering city guards. They didn’t call for a trial. They simply pinned her to the stone and used heavy, iron-tipped rods to beat her until her back was a shattered, bloody mess, her screams cutting off only when she passed out from the pain.

If they do that to their own women for a few coins, Edwin realized, his heart hammering against his ribs, they’ll kill an escaped male prisoner on sight.

The memory of those heavy rods striking flesh broke his spirit. He couldn’t steal. He couldn’t run anymore without drawing attention to his bare body.

Desperate and starving, Edwin sank to the ground, pressing his bruised back against the cold marble pillar. He curled his legs up tightly, trying to use his arms to shield as much of his bare skin as possible from the passing gazes. He swallowed his pride, held out a trembling hand, and kept his eyes glued to the pavement. He had gone from a soldier to a beggar in a matter of days.

“Please,” he croaked, his throat tight with real terror. “Just... some food. Or a coat. Anything.”

Shadows instantly blocked out the plum-colored light as a crowd started to form around him, cutting off his escape.

“Well, look what wandered out of the dark,” a low voice purred to his left.

Edwin snapped his head around. Two tall women had stopped a few feet away. One wore a leather harness that barely covered her chest; the other was in a sheer red tunic. Their eyes weren’t looking at his face. Their eyes were locked directly on his lap.

“Is that a southern prisoner? Out here like this?” the one in the harness murmured, a dirty smirk crossing her face. “Look at the muscles on him. Shame he’s so dirty. Those shorts aren’t hiding much, though.”

“Keep it down,” the other whispered, leaning closer, her eyes scanning his bare torso and the scars from the prison march. “If the recruiters from the Lower Rings see an unregistered male fugitive, they’ll drag him straight to the fighting pits. He looks like he’d last a few rounds before they clip him.”

The fighting pits. Edwin had heard the rumors in the prison camp. The syndicates took aggressive men, threw them into the underground arenas completely naked to fight the matriarchy’s champions, and brutally castrated the losers mid-fight to appease the roaring crowds.

Panic hit him like a physical blow.

“Hey. Little bird,” a woman in a sheer silk wrap said, stepping out from the gathering circle. She leaned down, the smell of wine heavy on her breath, her exposed breasts practically brushing his knees. “Spread your legs. Show us your dicklet right now, and I’ll take you out of the dirt. I’ll buy you from the magistrate, keep you in my house, and make sure nobody throws you to the gladiators. Just let us see what you’ve got.”

Edwin’s face burned a deep, furious red, mixed with the raw terror of being caught. He clamped his thighs together, his knuckles turning white.

“No,” he whispered hoarsely. “Leave me alone.”

The refusal only made them laugh. A low, mocking murmur went through the crowd. Dozens of eyes tracked the prominent shape beneath his grey boxers, the circle closing in until the air felt hot and suffocating.

“Did the stray just say no?” a warrior woman laughed from the back. “He thinks he has a say! Drop the hand, boy. Show it to us nicely, otherwise we’re going to show you stars. And trust me, you won’t like how hard you hit the ground.”

Frantic, Edwin’s fingers scraped against the dirt at the base of the pillar until they locked around a jagged piece of flint. It was barely the size of his thumb, but he pointed the sharp edge right at the woman’s face.

“Get back!” he shouted, his voice cracking with a soldier’s desperate rage. “I swear to God, I will kill you if you touch me! Stay the hell away from me!”

The crowd went dead quiet for a split second before bursting into loud, amused laughter. To a bunch of hardened, powerful women, his little rock was hilarious.

“He’s going to kill us with a pebble,” the woman in the silk wrap mocked, her eyes darkening with an intense, predatory focus. “How cute. Let’s see if you’re still talking tough when we rip those shorts off.”

“Please,” Edwin tried again, his voice dropping into pure desperation as he lowered the rock, realizing he couldn’t fight off an entire street. “I don’t want to fight. Just... give me something to eat. I’m starving. Just a piece of bread.”

“Food isn’t free here, sweet cheeks,” the woman said, stepping completely into his personal space. “You want to eat? You give us what we want to see first. Spread those legs, or you’re going to bed hungry and bruised.”

Edwin slammed his hand down over his crotch, his palm pressing flat against his grey boxers to shield himself from the hungry stares.

“Get away from me!” he gasped.

Two of the largest women in the front row stepped forward, their massive shadows completely engulfing him. Their hands reached down toward his wrists, determined to pry his grip loose and tear his underwear off right there in the middle of the street.

Smack.

The sharp, sudden crack of a leather crop striking a palm echoed through the plaza, cutting right through the noise.

The hands reaching for Edwin froze. The crowd instantly went silent, parting to create a narrow lane down the center of the square.

Walking down the middle was a woman who completely commanded the space without saying a single word. She looked to be in her late thirties, possessing an intimidating, mature beauty, her silver hair pinned back with gold needles. She wore a deep purple velvet robe that plunged nearly to her navel, exposing incredible, generous curves that she carried with absolute, unbothered confidence. In her right hand, she casually swung a silver-tipped riding crop.

“I believe I heard the boy ask for food,” the silver-haired woman said, her voice smooth but incredibly cold.

The women who had been pinning Edwin scrambled backward, bowing their heads. Even the aggressive woman in the silk wrap took a step back, her smirk completely disappearing.

“House Vespera,” she muttered, looking at the ground. “We were just having a bit of fun with the stray. He’s unregistered. By city law, he’s public property until someone claims him.”

“And I am claiming him,” Vespera said smoothly.

She stopped right at the edge of Edwin’s space, her heavy, exotic perfume completely washing over him. She knelt down in front of him. The plunging neckline of her robe shifted, offering him an incredibly close, completely uncensored view of her full breasts, but her sharp silver eyes remained locked on his face. She reached out, using the cool tip of her riding crop to gently lift Edwin’s chin.

“You have manners, little bird,” Vespera murmured, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her lips. “And you have a bit of fire in you, too. But if you stay out here, these wolves will tear those little grey shorts off you before the sun sets. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather stay here and show the plaza your treasures?”

Edwin looked from Vespera’s intense, commanding gaze to the circle of disappointed, hungry faces still watching him from the shadows. His stomach growled fiercely, a brutal reminder of how weak he actually was.

He slowly let go of the sharp pebble, letting it drop to the cobblestones.

“I’ll... I’ll come with you,” Edwin whispered, his face burning red. “Just... please give me something to eat.”

“Good boy,” Vespera smiled, standing up to her full height. She snapped her fingers at two heavily armed female guards standing behind her. “Wrap him in a cloak and bring him to my carriage. And make sure he stays covered. I don’t want anyone else getting a free show.”