In days or weeks, my corpse will be rotting on the ground, feeding the carrion crows that sit on the walls of the city, waiting for the feasts to begin. I shudder and clamp my teeth on a thin whine that escapes.
“Steady,” Bear says. “Just be calm, follow instructions. Don’t give them a reason to kill you before you enter the city, and when you get in, run. Someone will find you.”
“What? What does that mean?” the alpha who was friends with the one who launched off the cart asks. He’s refused to have anything to do with us, but I’m not sure if it’s from fear or self-preservation.
Bear doesn’t answer. Cadel and Mordecai brace themselves as the cart rolls to a stop.
The Warden stays atop his horse as a black-masked duke walks over and takes the reins of his heathen steed.
“Warden, it’s an honor. Are you joining the hunt this year?”
Like we’re a sport. I want to gouge out his eyes.
“I have been instructed to, yes.”
“Oh, we are so honoured to have you here with us.” The duke looks at us, and I glare.
“If you are so proud of who you are, take off your mask!” I snap at him. I don’t see any reason I should be silent and make this easy for them.
“Who are these?” The duke asks, ignoring me.
“Last minute captures.”
“Oh, excellent. We let the rest into the city. Could we wait until tomorrow or do a night release now? How would you like to play this?”
The deference is sickening.
The Warden turns and looks back at us, his eyes sweeping over me dispassionately. I saw him flinch. My words hurt him.
“Send them now,” he says, and his eyes land on me. We glare at each other until he turns away from me.
“Right, you heard him. Get them ready and send them in,” the duke shouts.
Twenty guards surge towards the cart. I recoil, but despite my efforts to remain free, they pull me out and slam me to my knees.
“Who are you?”
I clamp my mouth shut.
My hair is yanked hard, and a hand slams into my face, and it goes instantly numb.
“Name?” he screams.
I can’t think straight; I can barely remember my own name. He’s so close, his teeth exposed, his eyes are dark but red-rimmed. I wonder if his mother is proud of him. I’ll never tell him. Never!
“Kaida Keres,” the Warden says slowly.
The guard falls back, his grip on my hair loosening.
The duke looks between us; then stomps over to me and rips my shirt open, exposing me to all the guards around us, who are suddenly staring at me like I might sprout wings and cut them down.
The brand is thick and ugly in the middle of my chest. The omega symbol never did heal right, but it wasn’t supposed to.
“You captured Omega Keres?” The duke whispers in awe. “Warden, you are even more impressive than the rumours say.”
He bows over his right fist in oozing respect.
My torn shirt hangs off my shoulders, but nobody bothers to cover me up, and the eyes are hungry.
