Kira's POV
The slap came out of nowhere.
My head snapped sideways, and I tasted blood. My stepmother Mei stood over me, her perfectly manicured nails—paid for with money that should have bought my medicine—gleaming under the kitchen light.
"You stupid girl," she hissed. "You burned the toast again."
I touched my stinging cheek, keeping my eyes down. "I'm sorry. I'll make more—"
"Don't bother." My stepsister Aria breezed into the kitchen, looking like a princess in her expensive dress. Five years ago, when the aliens came, she was nobody. Now she worked for them, and it showed. "Mom, don't waste your energy. Kira's only good for one thing, and it's not cooking."
I bit my tongue. Fighting back only made things worse.
My father sat at the table, reading his digital news screen like I wasn't even there. Like his daughter wasn't bleeding in his kitchen. Ever since Mom died three years ago and he married Mei, I'd become invisible to him.
"David, are you even listening?" Mei snapped at him.
Dad finally looked up. "What?"
"I said we have the meeting today. With the Integration Office." Mei's eyes gleamed with greed. "They approved our application."
My stomach dropped. Application for what?
Aria smirked at me. "Oh, Kira doesn't know yet. How delicious."
"Know what?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
Dad folded his news screen. For the first time in months, he actually looked at me. But there was no warmth in his eyes. Just calculation.
"We've enrolled you in the Cultural Offering program," he said flatly. "Commander Vex'thor requested a companion. You'll serve for one month. The family receives a substantial payment."
The room spun. Cultural Offering. Everyone knew what that meant. Humans given to high-ranking aliens as... as property. As toys.
"No." I stepped backward. "Dad, please. You can't—"
"It's already done," Mei interrupted. "We signed the papers this morning. You'll be picked up at noon."
I looked at the clock. That was in four hours.
"I won't go." My voice shook. "You can't make me."
Aria laughed. It was a cruel sound. "Oh, Kira. You don't get a choice. The contract is legally binding. If you refuse, our entire family gets blacklisted. We lose everything. And it's all your fault."
"But I didn't agree to anything!"
"Your father is your legal guardian," Mei said coldly. "His signature is enough. Now go pack. And don't embarrass us more than you already have."
I turned to Dad desperately. "Please. I'm your daughter. Mom wouldn't want this. She wouldn't—"
His hand slammed on the table. "Don't talk about your mother! She's dead, and we're alive, and we need to survive. This family has a chance to move up in the world. You're finally going to be useful for once."
The words hit harder than Mei's slap.
I ran from the kitchen, their laughter chasing me down the hall
I made it three blocks before my legs gave out.
I collapsed in an alley behind the old hospital, sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. Commander Vex'thor—I'd seen his face on the news. Everyone knew about him. The war hero. The killer. Cold as space and twice as deadly.
And my family had sold me to him.
"Kira?"
I looked up to see Lysa jogging toward me. She was wearing her clinic volunteer uniform, her cybernetic arm gleaming in the morning light. She'd lost the real one five years ago during the Integration riots, trying to save her little brother. She failed. The aliens killed him anyway.
Lysa was the only real friend I had left.
"What happened?" She knelt beside me, her face going pale as she saw my expression. "Kira, what's wrong?"
"They sold me." The words came out broken. "Cultural Offering. Commander Vex'thor. I have four hours."
Lysa's face went from concerned to furious in seconds. "Those bastards. Okay. Okay, we can fix this. The resistance—I'll call my contacts. We'll get you out of the city before—"
"They have my documents," I whispered. "Everything. ID, permits, travel papers. My father locked them all down. I can't leave the city. If I run, it triggers an automatic alert to the Integration Police."
Lysa grabbed my shoulders. "Then we fight. We go to the office, we contest the contract—"
"It's legal. I checked the laws last year when they started the program. Parents can sign for adult children if they claim 'family hardship.' And once it's signed..." I couldn't finish.
We both knew. Once signed, Cultural Offering contracts were absolute. Breaking them meant prison. For everyone.
Lysa pulled me into a fierce hug. "Then you survive. You hear me? One month. Thirty days. You keep your head down, you do what you have to do, and you survive. And the second that contract expires, you come to me. I'll have everything ready. New identity, new papers, a place in the resistance. We'll disappear so deep they'll never find us."
"What if..." My voice broke. "What if I can't survive him?"
Lysa pulled back, forcing me to look at her. "You can. You're stronger than you think. Your mom survived cancer for three years when doctors said she'd die in six months. That strength is in you too."
I wanted to believe her. But strength didn't stop alien hands. Strength didn't make contracts disappear.
"I'm scared," I admitted.
"I know." Lysa pressed something into my palm. A tiny communicator, barely bigger than a pill. "Hide this. If you need me—if things get really bad—press it twice and I'll come. I don't care what it takes."
I closed my fist around the communicator. It felt like hope. Small and fragile, but real.
"I should get back," I said quietly. "Before they send the police looking."
Lysa hugged me one more time. "Thirty days. Then freedom. Promise me."
"I promise."
I walked back home on shaking legs. When I opened the door, Aria was waiting in the hallway, holding a white garment bag.
"Your uniform arrived," she said with a smile that made my skin crawl. "All Cultural Offerings wear the same thing. It's... symbolic."
She unzipped the bag.
Inside was a thin white dress. Almost transparent. With a collar.
I stared at it, understanding finally crashing over me like ice water.
I wasn't going to be a companion.
I was going to be a slave.
Aria saw my expression and her smile widened. "Oh, and Kira? I specifically requested Commander Vex'thor for you. Everyone knows he's the cruelest one. He's never kept an offering for more than two weeks before they begged to be released." She leaned close, whispering in my ear. "I wonder how long you'll last."
My blood turned cold.
"Why?" I breathed. "Why do you hate me so much?"
Aria's beautiful face twisted with ugly jealousy. "Because everything was supposed to be mine. But even now, even as a nobody, you're still prettier than me. Men still look at you instead of me. So I'm going to make sure you understand exactly where you belong. On your knees. Broken. Destroyed."
She shoved the garment bag into my arms and walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway, holding the white dress like a death sentence.
The clock on the wall ticked forward.
Three hours and forty-seven minutes until pickup.
I looked down at the dress in my hands, then at the communicator hidden in my pocket.
Thirty days.
I just had to survive thirty days.
Behind me, I heard my father on the phone, already discussing how to spend the payment money.
And I realized with absolute certainty: my family had just killed me.
They just didn't know it yet.