My legs gave out, and I sank to the floor, back against the wall. This couldn't be happening. I was supposed to return to the terramares tonight with herbs for trading. My sister waited, worried. The children would ask where their auntie was.
I looked at the simple white shift designed to cover just enough for modesty. My wedding dress, for a ceremony I never agreed to, with a creature I'd never even seen.
Another roar, closer this time. Hungry. Expectant.
My nails dug into my palms. I wasn't beaten yet. There had to be a way out. I just needed to think, to watch for an opportunity. The ceremony would mean movement, people, distractions. Maybe a chance to run.
They might have matched my blood, but they couldn't match my will. I wouldn't become some monster's bride without a fight.
As if in answer to my thoughts, the door lock clicked. My time was up.
Two
Redmon
The council fire crackled as Elder Sarrok droned on about hunting territory disputes. I shifted my weight, my thick hide scraping against the stone floor of the cave. The aroma of smoke and sweat filled my nostrils, mixing with the earthy smell of my kin gathered in a circle around the flames.
"The eastern ridge belongs to us by ancestral right," Sarrok insisted, his long claws gesturing toward the crude map etched into the cave wall. "The Crag Tribe cannot… "
A commotion at the cave entrance cut him off. Three figures stood silhouetted against the afternoon light. Two wore the unmistakable emblem of Magnus Terra on their uniforms. The third, a mapinguari like us but with the polished stones of a liaison dangling from his neck.
"Redmon of the Sylvan Tribe," the liaison called, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Your presence is required."
Every head turned toward me. My muscles tensed, and I rose to my full height, towering over most of my tribemates.
"What business does Magnus Terra have with our war chief?" Elder Sarrok demanded, his protective instinct kicking in despite our earlier disagreement.
The liaison's expression remained neutral. "The Matching Program. He has been selected."
A cold knot formed in my gut. The Matching Program. Magnus Terra's solution to centuries of conflict with binding monsters and humans together through their twisted version of marriage. I'd heard rumors of the forced pairings, but our tribe had avoided them until now.
I stepped forward, my claws scraping against stone. "I never submitted myself to the program."
"Submission is not required when necessity dictates," one of the human officials said, her voice clipped and efficient. "The Accords of 2087 are clear."
Elder Sarrok moved to my side, his ancient eyes narrowed. "This is most unusual. Our war chief was not in the selection pool."
The liaison showed no reaction to the elder's concerns, merely extending a tablet. "The matching is final. Redmon will report to the Sacrarium at sunset for the binding ceremony."
I snatched the tablet, my claws nearly cracking the screen. The face of a human woman stared back at me, dark skin, defiant eyes, and a notation marking her as a healer from a human terramares. Kalyndi. My supposed mate.
"This is Thorne's doing," I growled, looking across the council circle at Ravik, cousin to the leader of our rival faction. His lips curled in the barest hint of satisfaction. "Your clan pushed for this."
Ravik shrugged one massive shoulder. "Perhaps Magnus Terra simply recognized your special appreciation for humans."
The implication hung in the air. My less aggressive stance toward humans had always made me suspect among certain factions of our tribe.
"Go," Elder Sarrok said quietly. "We will discuss this matter while you prepare."
The officials seemed pleased by this apparent compliance. They turned to leave, expecting me to follow.
"I'll be there," I said coldly. "At sunset."
After they departed, chaos erupted in the council cave.
"This is an outrage!" roared Karsa, one of my most loyal warriors. "They can't just take our war chief!"
"It reeks of political maneuvering," growled another.
