The reasonable question deflates some of my fury, replacing it with the familiar weight of powerlessness that has defined my entire adult life. He's right—I'm nobody, nothing, a scavenger with no training or resources or hope of actually challenging someone like him.
But then I think of Kai teaching me combat techniques in the Frostfang training yard, of the way he looked at me like I was worth protecting instead of simply using. Of Ursik's casual acceptance and Falla's dry humor, of Shae treating me like family rather than commodity.
"The Frostfang will come for me," I say with confidence that feels more solid than empty bravado.
"Will they?" His amusement carries undertones of calculation that make unease prickle across my skin. "Even when they discover it means war with a clan that outnumbersthem three to one? Even when the cost of retrieving you would devastate their own people?"
"Yes." The certainty in my voice surprises even me, but it feels true in ways that transcend rational analysis. Whatever else Kai might be—reluctant, duty-bound, trapped by circumstances neither of us chose—he won't abandon me to this.
"How touching." His expression shifts into something that might be genuine pleasure if it weren't so cold. "In that case, you've just confirmed exactly what I hoped to hear. The Frostfang value you enough to take risks on your behalf."
Dread pools in my stomach as implications crystallize with terrifying clarity. This isn't about magical experiments or ritual components—it's about leverage. About using my capture to force concessions from a clan that would otherwise be too powerful to challenge directly.
"They won't negotiate with you," I say, though uncertainty makes the words less convincing than I'd like.
"Won't they?" He moves closer again with predatory satisfaction that makes me press harder against cold stone. "When the alternative is watching their precious bride disappear into Stonevein territory permanently? When they understand that your survival depends entirely on their cooperation?"
The casual certainty in his voice makes terror spike through my system, but beneath the fear, fury burns steady and bright. The same anger that kept me alive when everything fell apart, that drove me to warn others even when it meant risking my own safety.
Whatever he's planning, whatever use he thinks my capture will serve in his larger schemes, I won't make it easy for him. Won't become a willing participant in my own destruction or anyone else's.
"You're making a mistake," I tell him with as much conviction as I can muster. "The Frostfang aren't like other clans. They don't respond well to threats."
"No?" His laugh carries genuine amusement that somehow makes the sound more terrifying. "Then I suppose we'll discover just how much their principles matter when measured against your life."
17
SAELA
The hours crawl by with agonizing slowness, each minute stretching into eternity as I sit pressed against the cold stone wall, listening to the distant sounds of the Stonevein settlement. Footsteps echo in corridors beyond my cell, voices carry fragments of conversation I can't quite parse, and somewhere deeper in this maze of cruelty, I know Ressa is suffering in ways I can't bear to imagine.
My hands have gone numb from the cold seeping through the stone floor, but I keep them pressed against the rough surface anyway, using the discomfort to anchor myself against the panic that threatens to drown rational thought. Every shadow that moves past the narrow gap beneath my cell door makes my heart stutter with the possibility that Harkul—that is the giant orc’s name I learned—is returning, that whatever reprieve I've been granted is finally ending.
The cut on my scalp where something struck me has stopped bleeding, but the throbbing ache serves as a constant reminder of how thoroughly I've failed everyone who ever trusted me. Kai warned me not to leave the settlement alone. Shae told me to be careful of strangers who seemed too convenient. Even Ursik,with his rough humor and protective instincts, made it clear that the world beyond Frostfang territory held dangers I wasn't equipped to handle.
But I thought I was smarter than their warnings, thought I could recognize deception when it came wearing the face of someone who needed help. The irony cuts deeper than physical pain—I spent years surviving in the wasteland by trusting no one, relying on nothing but my own instincts, and the moment I started feeling safe, started believing in the possibility of protection, I walked straight into the trap that had been waiting for me all along.
The worst part isn't the fear or even the rage that burns steady and bright in my chest. It's the way hope keeps trying to surface despite everything, the treacherous voice in my head that insists Kai will come for me even though I know how impossible that would be. The Stonevein outnumber the Frostfang by significant margins, and their settlement is fortified in ways designed to repel exactly the kind of rescue attempt that would be necessary to retrieve one captured human.
He's too smart to throw away lives on a gesture that would only result in more death. Too practical to let emotion override tactical thinking. Too responsible to his people to risk everything for someone who brought nothing but trouble to his clan from the moment she stumbled into their territory.
But still, in the deepest part of my heart where logic can't quite reach, I find myself straining to catch sounds that might indicate approaching warriors, hoping for the impossible because the alternative is accepting that this stone cell will be the last place I ever see.
Time loses meaning in the windowless chamber, marked only by the slow progression of torch flames guttering low before someone replaces them with fresh light. My legs cramp fromsitting in the same position, but I don't dare stretch or move around too much, afraid that any sound might draw unwanted attention from guards I haven't seen but know must be nearby.
The silence stretches until even my own breathing seems too loud, until the steady drip of moisture somewhere in the darkness becomes the only rhythm marking the passage of moments that feel endless. I try to think of warm things—Shae's gentle smile, Falla's dry commentary, the way Ursik calls me "little bird" with affection that makes me feel protected rather than diminished.
Most of all, I think of Kai's hands, large enough to engulf my wrist entirely but gentle when they touch my face, of ice-blue eyes that see more than they reveal, of the way his voice rumbles when he's angry or embarrassed. The memory of him saying my name like it matters, like I matter, becomes a lifeline in the darkness that threatens to swallow everything else.
Then, cutting through the oppressive quiet like blade through silk, comes the sound I've been both hoping for and dreading—the distant clash of metal on metal, shouts that echo off stone walls with violent intensity. Battle sounds, fierce and immediate and getting closer with each passing second.
My heart hammers against my ribs as understanding crashes over me in waves that leave me gasping. They came. Despite the odds, despite the tactical impossibility, despite every reasonable argument against such desperate action—the Frostfang came for me.
The sounds of combat grow louder, more distinct, punctuated by roars of rage that could only come from orc warriors pushed beyond their considerable limits. Steel rings against steel with sharp percussion that makes my teeth ache, and beneath it all runs the deeper rumble of voices I recognize—Ursik's battlefield bellow, Falla's clipped commands,and threading through everything like molten steel, Kai's voice raised in fury that makes the stone walls seem to vibrate.
I scramble to my feet despite the way my legs protest after hours of immobility, pressing myself against the cell door to catch every sound that filters through the gaps. The battle is moving closer, the clash of weapons and grunts of effort becoming clear enough that I can almost picture what's happening in the corridors beyond my prison.
Then, with a crash that makes the entire structure shudder, my cell door explodes inward in a shower of splinters and twisted metal. Through the settling dust and debris steps a figure that makes my heart stop entirely—massive and broad-shouldered, ice-blue eyes blazing with protective fury, long black hair loose around his shoulders instead of braided in its usual Frostfang style.
