Chapter Text
Jayce wasn’t quite sure where he was, even though the straw under his hooves smelled kind of like home. It was hard to see through the thick tarp that covered the cold bars of his cage. His tummy growled, so he guessed that he had been jostling around in the back of Vander’s van for the better part of half a day.
When was Viktor going to come and get him? Viktor had promised honey cakes.
“Hungry,” he whispered to himself.
The cage next to him rustled. “Do you have anything to eat?” another cow said.
This cow was never given a name—she wasn’t special enough—but Jayce thought she was a bit mean. She used to nip at his back when he tried to sleep with the herd. In his head, he called her Bitey.
“Nope.”
“I bet this is your fault. Cursed from birth to doom us all,” Bitey said.
“That’s not true,” Jayce hissed. The other cows always talked about how he had no mother like it was his fault. Like he was born to carry misfortune. It wasn’t fair. Viktor had told him not to listen, but Viktor wasn’t here.
“Curses aren’t real anyway. Viktor said so.”
“That’s why this happened. You don’t believe in it.” Bitey’s cage rattled. Jayce guessed she kicked the bars. She was dumber than rocks sometimes. Jayce knew that cows were sold, but he never thought it would happen to him. Viktor had promised.
Jayce curled in on himself, gripping his knees. He wanted to show Viktor how good he was getting at his numbers; he’d almost memorised his seven times-tables.
The jostling stopped abruptly and Jayce steadied himself against the bars. Then, a door slammed. His siblings talked nervously amongst themselves until the back doors slid open. Jayce heard scraping sounds, something heavy being moved, then another voice he didn’t recognise speaking to Vander.
“Where am I going?” one of his siblings called out.
Dread settled in his tummy as his kin were taken away, one by one. They all asked where they were, but no one responded to their questions. Then, Vander pulled back the tarp on his cage, and Jayce squinted against the bright light. By the time his vision cleared, Vander had pulled his cage out and onto a dolly. Jayce was being rolled down through what he thought was a very large barn. But instead of straw, the floor was grey concrete, and there were so many other cow vastaya here.
Some cows were on leads with pretty looking collars around their necks. A caged heifer had glinting metal on her teats, and a bit stretched her drooling mouth open. Jayce didn’t understand why anyone would put metal there, but before he could think about it too hard, a bull caught his eye.
It was similar to the bull at home, but still so different: horns shaved down to nubs, cock trapped in a cage, mouth in a muzzle and nose pierced with a large nose ring. A slack leash dangled from the nose ring to its owner's hand. They both stepped into a pen, the bull trailing behind with empty eyes.
Once, Viktor had said that bulls were paraded at an auction house.
“Vander? Where are we?”
“Hush now, you know where you are,” Vander said, voice stern, “This is where you’ll meet your owner.”
He really was at the auction house. Jayce did not like this place, not one bit. He thought that Viktor was his owner. He thought he’d been good for Viktor. He’d let the bull touch him like Viktor wanted, even though he’d wished it had been Viktor instead. Maybe he should have told Viktor he didn’t want anybody else. But maybe that would’ve been bad. Had he done something wrong?
Jayce had felt his body change yesterday, after the bull had left him open, sore and tired. His sex was different now; it was smaller, and he leaked. Jayce looked down, noticing his chest was rounder and softer too. It was nothing like a bull’s flat, muscular chest. He’d only wanted to be a heifer if Viktor was going to keep him. Why didn’t Viktor want to keep him?
The bull disappeared from view as Jayce was moved into a pen. Vander allowed Jayce to exit the cage, but before he could ask any questions, Vander had walked away. The man didn’t even look back, but Jayce could see his shoulders shaking. He didn’t understand what it all meant.
Jayce stood for a moment, dumbfounded. He had never been apart from his family before, and now he was alone in this strange place. What was he supposed to do?
In the pen next to Jayce’s was another cow vastaya, curled into a ball. This one looked older than Jayce, and a little different, too. The cow’s skin was a creamy colour, and the white fur on its legs was covered with black splotches. A white tag hung from its ear, and around its neck was a fancy blue collar.
Jayce tapped on the bars of his pen to get the other cow’s attention. Solemn eyes blinked up at Jayce as the cow raised his head off his knees. With the cow’s chest now exposed, he could see bright and angry-looking marks across his breasts and around his teats. It made Jayce’s breath hitch. It looked like it hurt.
“What happened to you?” Jayce asked.
The cow hummed. “I am no longer of use,” he said simply.
No longer of use. He couldn’t see anything wrong with the cow. Why would his owners just abandon him?
“Where are we?” Jayce tried. Maybe if he could figure out where he was, he could get back to Viktor.
The cow squinted at Jayce and huffed in that way the calves at home did when Jayce said something they thought was stupid.
“Don’t ask questions. Just smile. They like that better.”
Well, that was… not helpful, but Jayce was good at following instructions, and this cow seemed to know what was going on. It’s not like Jayce could go anywhere right now. The pen’s bars were high, and at the back of the pen was a large wooden door. He couldn’t be sure what was behind it, but he could hear other cows calling out to each other. It was difficult to smell where his siblings were, exactly, because the whole place reeked sweat and pheromones. Not that he would rely on them to get out anyway.
There wasn’t much else to do if Jayce couldn’t speak, so he paced. Viktor taught him that nervous energy was lost through moving hooves. So, he paced until the straw was flat and his tail stopped flicking anxiously.
˖˚𓃔˖
Across the other side of the building, a bell rang. The crowds of humans near his pen all turned towards a raised platform in the centre. A woman in stiff clothing called people over and pointed towards a banner above her. Jayce squinted to read the text: Owner Showcase!
Jayce didn’t know what a Showcase! was, but he knew what show cows were. He’d seen them before in the newspapers that got dropped off at the front gate; they looked so pretty with how their owners had styled them. Their fur was always neatly trimmed and so shiny, the result of fancy shampoos and repeated brushing. In the pictures, their hooves were always inky black, slicked with lacquer, like they were wearing shoes made of glass.
Sometimes, Jayce used to wish Viktor would do that with him. He wanted to be good enough that Viktor would want to show him off to everyone. Jayce hadn’t told any of his siblings about this desire, and he certainly did not tell them anything about the fancy outfits some of the show cows wore.
Jayce would’ve been laughed at by his herd if he’d even suggested wanting to be a show cow and wear clothes. They would have said he was ‘too small to keep himself warm’. Bulls weren’t supposed to want to be dressed up and paraded around, either. They were too strong and too proud to be doted on, so Jayce never told Viktor about it.
Yet, Jayce felt there was something special about how the owners in the newspapers dressed up their cows. A heifer named Petal always wore pink maid dresses because it matched the pink on her nose. Jayce wasn’t sure what maid meant, but he knew it was a certain style of clothing. He liked that one the best because it looked comfy. He wouldn’t have to worry about his tail rubbing against the fabric or being restricted. Petal always looked like she’d won, too, based on the way she always smiled up at her owner in photos.
Petal was certainly different from the bull that now followed its owner onto the stage. Jayce noticed the bull’s mighty horns first; how they stuck out to the sides like ivory weapons with blackened tips. Its midnight fur was sleek and glossy, making its pale skin look polished, like something to be admired. Jayce thought the bull looked dangerous, its fingers twitching as if it couldn’t wait to move. Interestingly, this bull was not pulled by a leash, nor was it muzzled, and its cock was hard like it was proud—or something.
Embarrassingly, Jayce pressed his thighs together as his eyes locked onto the dripping length. When the bull walked, its heavy balls shifted over its thick thighs. Jayce could only catch a whiff of the bull’s scent, but he could already tell this one was particularly virile. Jayce had to look away for a moment to remember who he really belonged to–Viktor, of course. It wasn’t his fault that the bull smelled nice.
The crowd quieted for a moment, and Jayce heard it before he saw it—the wet sound of lips parting around something thick, followed by curious sighs. The bull had knelt, hands placed neatly on its thighs, obedient as it swallowed its owner's cock. The tip of its tail swished lazily while its throat was worked open. While the crowd looked on in suspense, Jayce heard a faint tinkling noise—a little bell on the bull’s collar chimed sweetly as it bobbed its head.
Jayce reminded himself to breathe as he watched the bull. He sucked in a breath, picking up on that scent again; it was charged and aggressive. Oh. The bull was in rut. Was that the show? The owner was in charge, even though the bull probably wanted to pin down the next heifer it saw. It must have been taught really well.
It was a gorgeous sight.
The owner looked so calm in comparison to the bull; with its wild eyes, it looked ready to jump out of its own skin. He placed a hand on the bull’s head and took over at a slower pace. It was a clear demonstration of how the bull could swallow his whole cock. The owner placed a palm lovingly to the bull’s cheek, and it leaned into the hand, moaning as its untouched cock twitched between its legs.
As if on cue, the bull popped off for a moment, letting the crowd see that its face was covered in drool. Its eyes were far away as it went back to lap around its owner's cock.
A human near Jayce’s pen whispered, “Never seen a bull in rut love it so much.”
It was true. Jayce couldn’t deny it when he saw that the bull kept going back for more, looking up at its owner like he was the most important person in the world. Bulls weren’t supposed to serve like this or act so placid. The herd said that bulls were strong and stubborn.
Jayce couldn’t look away.
The act itself he knew was dirty, but it was also so intimate. The bull was beneath its owner, and yet it looked like more of a claiming ritual than submission. The bull tried its best to hold its owner's attention, while the owner looked almost territorial.
Jayce finally tore his eyes away from the display. He didn’t know bulls could do that, or that they wanted to behave like that. Maybe there was more to cows than his herd knew about. If bulls could be submissive like heifers, then maybe heifers could be strong like bulls, too. Maybe, when he found Viktor, he could talk about the cows he saw in the newspaper, and Viktor wouldn't judge him for it.
The crowd cheered, and when Jayce looked up again, the bull held its hands together, palms up facing the sky. A white, viscous liquid dripped from its palms and onto the polished stage. The owner had tucked himself back into his pants, and he bowed to the crowd.
˖˚𓃔˖
Jayce wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually two men in uniforms came to stand in front of the pen beside his. One of the men held a clipboard, and the other snapped blue plastic gloves on his hands. They had dark eyes that Jayce didn’t trust, but the other cow said not to ask questions, so he waited patiently.
“This heifer’s production has dropped, but the buyer just wants to know if it can still be bred,” the man with the clipboard said. His companion pushed open the gate and stalked towards the cow.
“Up,” the gloved man instructed.
The cow slowly stood, hands wrapped around his elbows, while Jayce watched on curiously. The man hooked a finger in the cow’s blue collar and yanked it towards the bars of the pen. As the cow’s hands fell onto them, Jayce caught sight of a name tag: Diamond.
Diamond didn't look at Jayce, and he kept his eyes facing downwards, accepting what was about to come next. The man behind Diamond kicked his legs apart, forcing the cow to bend over.
Jayce had never seen Vander or Viktor kick at another cow’s legs like that. What kind of treatment was this?
His thoughts were interrupted by a squelching sound and Diamond huffing.
“How many calves, Corbin? It’s pretty loose.”
“Hmm… says here five. Although one set was twins. Impressive, but may have torn something,” Corbin said.
Diamond’s eyes squeezed shut. Oh. Diamond was being fingered, out in the open, in front of everyone, but he didn’t seem to care. Maybe this was like when the mothers were milked? When they had to sit on those rods?
“Twins sounds about right. Hole is too sloppy for anything less,” the gloved man said before withdrawing. Diamond sighed, then tried to stand, but he was pressed back down as another hand went up to his breasts.
“Kenon, you don’t have to check those,” Corbin said.
“Yeah yeah, just—I’m being thorough.” Kenon squeezed at Diamond’s teats, kneading and rubbing.
Would this happen to him, too? Was this normal?
Diamond whimpered as if he liked it, his tail swishing. Then, milk began to bead on his teats, before slowly dripping onto the floor.
“You’re right. Cow’s almost dry, but should be enough to feed a calf at least.” Even though milk dripped freely from Diamond, Kenon kept rubbing. He squeezed down Diamond’s breast, trying to coax out a stronger stream, but it remained at a slow dribble.
“Alright,” Corbin laughed, “You’ve had your fun, onto the next.”
Kenon grunted in response before pulling back. Diamond’s legs wobbled, and then he fell to the floor.
“This one is from Last Drop Pastures. No taller than four foot four—small, but well trained. Shouldn’t give us any trouble,” Corbin said.
Kenon stepped into Jayce’s pen, and Jayce recognised the coloured clothing he wore. It was like the clothes Viktor wore to work—maybe he could trust this man?
“Alright cow, hands on the rails,” Kenon ordered. Jayce hesitantly obeyed, unsure what was going to happen next. “Tail up.”
What?
“Why?” Jayce asked, fear starting to creep in. Kenon sighed, then he stepped closer.
Smack.
Jayce jumped, a gasp escaping his throat as he registered that Kenon had slapped his rump. The motion caused his tail to raise and Kenon grabbed it, holding it up so his sex was on full display.
“Well trained my ass. Corbin, are you fuckin’ with me?” Kenon questioned, “Dumb cow doesn’t know how an inspection works.”
“Kenon, just—hurry up,” Corbin said, sounding frustrated. “We just need to know if he's good breeding stock. So check his cervix and udders and be done with it. We have others to inspect.”
Kenon chuckled and ran a hand over the cheek that had been slapped. The sharp pain made Jayce squirm, and he stamped his hoof. No one had ever been so rough with him before. He missed how gentle Viktor was with him.
Kenon pressed his back to Jayce’s chest and ran his hands up to Jayce’s pecs, cupping them like breasts. Large hands started to knead, pulling and pinching at his flesh. Jayce whined, not used to the sensation of having his chest played with.
“Look at him, Corbin. He's quite responsive just from having his tits touched,” Kenon said into Jayce’s ear. It made Jayce shiver, and he tried to squirm away from those kneading hands. “Ah ah, be good and sit still.”
Jayce was trying, but this was all new to him.
“That’s good news. He should fetch a higher price then. Can you check his teats?”
Jayce gasped when those intrusive hands pushed around his nipples. It felt weird, and it made his tummy flip like when Viktor touched him—but Viktor didn’t touch him like this. He could feel his cock starting to perk up at Kenon’s touch. There was a pressure building up in his chest, and when Kenon squeezed harder, he felt it release as his nipples pushed outwards.
“There we go—oh look at those. These are pretty teats.” Kenon’s words sounded praising, but he was calling his nipples teats, like a milking cow—a heifer. Jayce wasn’t his heifer. “Th-that’s not—”
Kenon rolled Jayce’s nipples with his fingers, and Jayce mewled. His nipples weren’t hard, but they felt so sensitive. He’d only ever touched them late at night when he had shameful dreams of Viktor above him. As Kenon touched him, slick leaked from his sex, unbidden.
“Aww Corbin, I think this one’s just a bit confused. Might think it’s not a heifer yet,” Kenon said, sounding condescending.
“That tracks with the growth serum. Maybe the hormone balancing was quite recent,” Corbin said, though his voice sounded very far away. Jayce couldn’t focus on anything other than the hands squeezing his chest and tugging on his slowly hardening nipples.
Unexpectedly, Kenon pulled away. Jayce whined, torn between wanting to run and wanting to continue.
“Alright, I’ll check his hole, and then we can send him out for auction.”
Auction?
Before Jayce could process the words, a finger circled his hole.
“He’s soaked,” Kenon said, as he slid his fingers through the slick slowly dripping from Jayce. Two fingers plunged into him without any warning. Jayce groaned, sex clenching around the intrusion to try and force it out.
“Gods this one is tight. Going to make one lucky owner very happy,” Kenon taunted.
Jayce shoved his face in his forearms, trying to hide his reddened cheeks as those fingers slowly pumped in and out. It was like they were searching for something, though they couldn’t seem to find the place that Viktor did, the one that made him feel really good. He just needed to smile and bear it, like the other cow said. This should be over soon. They didn’t spend very long with Diamond.
“Can you feel his cervix or not?” Corbin asked.
“Yeah one sec let me just—” Kenon shoved his fingers deeper, causing Jayce’s thighs to shake. They burrowed into his breeding canal until they pushed up against his cervix. That wasn’t for them to touch. That didn’t belong to them.
“That’s a good heifer, just sit still and let me—”
Jayce kicked his leg out, landing squarely on Kenon’s shin.
“Fuck!”
Kenon’s fingers slipped free from his sex and Jayce was already scrambling to get as far away as possible in the small pen. Jayce was not these strangers heifer. He wasn’t going to let them use him like that. Viktor had already promised Jayce when he was a calf that this was Viktor’s job.
“Not yours,” Jayce spat. That should get the point across.
Kenon just sighed at him, like a disappointed parent. “Rope.”
Jayce turned to face the door as Kenon was handed a length of rope. Despite the fear in his veins, he waited until Kenon got close again and kicked his hoof out in warning.
“C’mon now, just let me put this around your neck,” Kenon crooned, “I won’t hurt you.”
Jayce stilled for a moment and allowed Kenon to stalk closer—within perfect kicking distance. Jayce landed another hoof on Kenon’s thigh, this time, smiling when his ass hit the straw.
“I’ll get the boss—”
“Do not get the boss,” Kenon said from the ground, “Just get me a crop and I’ll spank his ass raw until he's on his knees.”
“Don’t touch me,” Jayce warned.
The commotion in the pen drew the attention of onlookers. Jayce was suddenly feeling embarrassed with so many eyes on him. There were never this many people at the farm—at home.
“Where is my Viktor?”
“How does this heifer know Viktor?” Corbin questioned.
“There is more than one Viktor—”
“Whatever, just stop fucking around. Open up the pen and let him in the corral. He’s been inspected.”
Kenon muttered something under his breath and made his way back out of the pen. He slammed a hand against a box in the wall, and the door under Jayce’s hand shifted upwards. Jayce bolted underneath as fast as he could. He needed to get away as fast as possible. Maybe he could find Viktor so they could go home already.
With heaving breaths, Jayce scurried down a short hallway and into another round pen. This one was far larger than the holding area he had been in previously. More cows than he could count meandered around each other. None of them looked at him when he stumbled into the ring. They all bore similar expressions to Diamond—lifeless and devoid of hope.
The mothers at the farm didn’t speak much, but they were happy. They had a spring in their step when they pottered around the fields and purred when Vander petted their heads. These cows were different.
“Where am I?” Jayce tried. One of them looked his way but did not respond. He couldn’t even see any of his siblings over the heads of the other cows. The scents in the ring were layered, thick with distress; it was impossible to sniff out his siblings either. Fine. If these cows would not help him, then he could find his own way out.
Jayce circled the ring, carefully stepping over a few cows that had laid down as he searched for a way out. He tried to move a few doors, but they were all so heavy that they wouldn’t budge. On his second round, he tried to look for something to stand on to climb over, but there was nothing he could hold onto. The walls of the pen were flat all the way around.
It was on his third round of the seemingly insurmountable ring that he heard a scraping noise from the opposite side. The other cows all looked up, some stamping their hooves nervously. A door had opened up, and two workers moved into the ring with ropes in their hands. He recognised one to be Kenon. The cows that had laid down on the edges also began to stand, their ears up and alert. Jayce felt their fear seep into his pores.
Flee, they said.
But where could they go? There was no escape… except the door that the workers came through. Jayce wasn’t the strongest, but he could be quick. He’d slipped through Vander’s fingers enough times when stealing apples to know how to worm his way out of a sticky situation.
A part of Jayce wanted to warn the other cows, or tell them to follow him, but he doubted they would listen. He pushed past a few bodies, trying to squirm his way to the front of the unfamiliar herd. He felt their trepidation slicing through his skin, but he knew he had to push forward—he needed to get to that door.
Jayce was almost at the front of the herd when he heard a whip crack. The sound was so loud, it felt as if his eardrums had burst.
That was all it took for hell to break loose.
One of the cows made a warning sound, grunting lowly. Bodies pushed Jayce backwards.
“Wait!” Jayce called out, but his breath was taken from him as the herd panicked, squeezing against him. His fumbling legs caught amongst the others and a stray elbow jabbed into his side. He was sent tumbling to the ground, slipping between panicking hooves.
He was at the bottom of a stampede, he needed to get up—he had to, or he’d be trampled. Jayce scrambled to collect his legs under him—but it was too late.
Jayce heard the snapping sound first. Then he felt searing pain shoot up his thigh as a scream was torn from his throat. A raw, aching wail burst from his chest as he clutched at his crushed thigh–or whatever was left of it. Through the dust and agitated bodies, he couldn’t even tell if it was all still attached. There was just indescribable pain, splitting and sharp.
As he lay there wheezing, the herd cleared, pressed to the back of the ring. The two workers stalked closer, and one quirked their eyebrow at him.
“Ah, shit. Stupid cow probably broke his leg.”
Jayce sobbed, crying out against the pain.
“Viktor,” he wailed. He just wanted to leave. Now it all hurt, and he couldn’t see through the tears. Couldn’t breathe through the heaving sobs that wracked his chest.
“How is it going to sell?”
“I guess it’d sell for less.”
“Call one of the vets.”
Jayce managed to wipe one of his eyes as the workers chatted amongst themselves. He tried to look down, but he got queasy as he spotted a trickle of blood leaking onto the floor. He couldn’t look.
“P-Please,” he sobbed.
“Jayce,” a familiar voice filtered through the haze.
Jayce’s heart leapt. He wanted to run to Viktor, but the agonizing pain prevented him from getting up.
“Viktor,” Jayce called out, searching for his keeper.
Viktor’s soft eyes appeared through the dust as he pushed past the workers. Viktor looked angry as he snapped at them. Jayce had never seen Viktor angry before. It terrified him. Maybe Jayce really did upset Viktor. He just wanted to go home.
Jayce couldn’t make out the words exchanged above him, but Kenon suddenly looked red in the face and exited the pen. Utterly confused and overwhelmed, Jayce could only cry harder.
Viktor was quick to crouch down beside Jayce and take him into his arms. Jayce went easily, burying his face in the flannel.
“I’m so sorry,” Jayce cried.
Cried like when he first got his ear tagged.
Cried like when he grazed his knee and thought he had disappointed Viktor.
Cried like a calf, but he didn’t care—because Viktor was cooing into his ear and brushing his back.
“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here,” Viktor cooed. How was Viktor going to get him out? Jayce could barely move his leg without it lighting up in pain. The deep ache that settled into his bones was the only thing he could think about.
“Hurts too much,” Jayce whimpered. He felt Viktor’s hands tighten on his back.
Please don’t be angry with me.
“Did you… Are you hurt anywhere else?” Viktor asked.
Jayce shook his head and clung to Viktor’s shirt tighter. He smelled like home.
“I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“Sweet thing, it's okay. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Viktor soothed.
“You’re not going to sell me?” Jayce sobbed.
“No, never. There has been a mistake.” Viktor pulled away for a moment and wiped at Jayce’s cheek. “Let’s go home, yes?”
Jayce nodded and grabbed one of Viktor’s hands. He was never going to let go.
“What about the buyers?” Kenon questioned from outside the pen, “A few are mighty interested in that heifer going up for auction.”
Viktor scoffed. “This cow is not fit for sale today. As I said, I will amend this with the auction house.”
“You don’t own him. You can’t take him,” Kenon murmured. It sounded like a threat.
“I am one of the veterinarians on duty here. I am allowed to take the cows where I please if I deem them unfit for sale. Although, I understand that an assistant wouldn’t understand this yet, Kenon.” Viktor turned back to Jayce with a softer expression. “Okay, okay. Look here, Jayce…need to…on the…help you…”
Viktor sounded so far away. Those words were like a dream between the throbbing ache of his squashed limb and the swirling black spots clouding his vision.
“—on’t sleep, Jayce!”
Sleep, yes. That sounded like a good idea. Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry so much anymore about how he was being jostled onto a bench. Wouldn’t have to worry about making a fuss and risk upsetting Viktor.
He couldn’t feel Viktor anymore. There was no fabric between his fingers, only a cool, hard surface. That was the last thing he felt before letting sleep claim him.
˖˚𓃔˖
With a start, Jayce awoke to a tight feeling around his thigh, like it was being crushed again. He whined and tried to pull back, but he found his limbs to be sluggish. His thoughts felt similar—slow, like thick soup.
“Hush now, there is no need to move.”
The voice sounded warm and familiar, like Mom.
“Mommy,” Jayce slurred.
A sharp breath.
“Yes, Jayce. I’m here,” His Mom soothed.
When Jayce fluttered his eyes open, pretty, golden eyes stared back. They were so blinding, like little treasures, and all he wanted to do was sit in his lap and make sure the man never looked away. He never wanted to leave his sight again.
Jayce’s eyes flicked down to his leg, and he found it to be wrapped in bandages. A stick had been shoved between his fur and the bindings. He didn’t feel the same pain as before, but he couldn’t feel much of anything.
He looked back to the pretty man with those eyes like glittering coins.
“So pretty,” Jayce mumbled. He couldn’t help it. He felt so calm and floaty.
The man snorted, tinkering with something. “What’s pretty, hmm?”
“You.” Your eyes.
“Do you remember my name, Jayce?”
Name? Jayce squinted, trying really hard to remember the pretty man’s name. He couldn’t think of anything, other than one word: “Pretty.”
Gosh, did he think that out loud?
The man’s chuckle was deep, but Jayce thought it was one of the sweetest things he had ever heard.
“Sounds nice. You should come back with me,” Jayce urged. He should take this man to see the farm.
“Oh? You’re going to whisk me away to the farm?”
Jayce gasped, his jaw going slack. How did the pretty man know what was in Jayce’s head? Maybe he was a mind reader?
“Yeah we should…You should come see. I’m really good at numbers,” Jayce tried. Why was he good at numbers again? Someone taught him, he was sure of it. And he wasn’t just good at numbers, he was impressive, or so he had been told.
“Yes, I know. I did teach you,” the stranger—no, that wasn’t right, this man taught him—Viktor said. How could he have forgotten?
“Oh. You taught me everything. You gave me everything. Thank you.”
Viktor did not respond. Instead, he left Jayce’s vision for a moment. Panic gripped him. Viktor couldn’t leave him again, not yet. He couldn’t leave so soon; Jayce has only just found him.
“Here, Jayce.”
A hand slid down Jayce’s back and pushed him to sit up. Jayce sluggishly rose, wanting to press back into the warmth. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling the chill. He was about to voice his complaint when a blanket swaddled him. The thin fabric nestled around his shoulders, covering his torso. He was grateful to feel warm and protected. Jayce had never felt shame at not wearing clothes, but he suddenly didn’t want anyone else to see him.
Viktor shuffled around into his vision again, and all was well.
Something shiny in Viktor’s hand caught Jayce’s attention, but he waited to ask. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions here. What if Viktor was still angry with him?
Viktor hooked a finger under Jayce’s chin and lifted his head up to meet those soft eyes. They looked wet—sad. Oh gods, had Jayce made Viktor sad? Had he disappointed Viktor?
Jayce felt tears spring to his eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Viktor, please forgive me,” Jayce croaked.
“Sweet one, what’s the matter?”
Jayce squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re mad at me. I did something wrong. I know I did, and now I’m not worth as much.”
Jayce just didn’t know what he did to end up at the auction house. He needed Viktor to tell him, so he could make things better again. Viktor always told him what to do, where to go, how to behave, what he was supposed to be in life. What would he do if Viktor left? He wouldn’t know who he was anymore.
Viktor’s beautiful hands wiped Jayce’s cheeks. “It’s okay, Jayce. You’re just scared and confused.”
And he was—wasn’t he? Just scared. Everything was so confusing. So new, loud and overwhelming. He wasn’t sad—just scared.
Jayce felt something being tied around his neck and heard a soft tinkling noise, like a windchime. Jayce reached up to touch a cool metal bell tied to a ribbon.
“This is so you won’t be, eh, touched on the way out. It means you belong to me. So don’t remove it.”
Jayce wouldn’t take this off even if the sun burnt out. Another symbol of ownership, like when Viktor tagged his ear. He always belonged to Viktor.
“Now let’s get you home,” Viktor said, taking Jayce’s hand and rubbing soothing fingers over his skin. “You might have to sleep again for this.”
Jayce nodded. He would do anything Viktor said. What Jayce wasn’t expecting was to see Vander, standing in the doorway, looking shocked.
“Viktor, what happened with Jayce?” Vander asked.
“Uncle, he is not fit for sale,” Viktor retorted.
“But you said—”
“Not here, Uncle. Jayce needs further training. Rehabilitation. He kicked one of the vet assistants, and now he’s…”
Jayce smiled to himself. He did kick that mean man.
Vander looked down at Jayce’s bandaged leg. “Gods, what happened to the poor fella?”
Poor fella? Oh, that was Jayce. He was a poor, poor fella. Viktor should hug him for it.
“He’s still coming down from the laughing gas. Let me do my job, and I can still save him from retirement.”
Retirement? Jayce blinked up at Viktor’s flannel, hoping it had answers for him.
“Aye, whatever you need. We can take him back—but what about the buyers? Won’t this affect our reputation?”
“I’ve handled it.”
“How? I didn’t even know you were working today.”
“Let’s just—we need to leave before someone else thinks they can buy Jayce.”
“Alright, let’s go home then.”
“No, not back to the farm.”
“What?”
“I need to watch him, and the farm is too far away. I have better equipment at my place.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. Jayce will be perfectly safe with me until his leg heals. Then he can go back to the farm.”
The speedy words between Vander and Viktor swam in Jayce’s vision like pond minnows, but he understood the last part. Viktor could fix him. Viktor could fix anything.