Iron grips tighten on my shoulders as they force me upright. My ribs protest where Krugg's sword opened them earlier, fresh blood seeping through my torn shirt. The metallic scent mingles with the forest's earthy dampness and the acrid smoke from their torches.
"You know what your problem is, Galthan?" Krugg circles me like a vulture, his boots crunching on fallen leaves. "You think being a war hero makes you untouchable. That your reputation protects you from consequences."
He stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can see the broken blood vessels in his eyes.
"But heroes fall just like everyone else. Especially when they betray their own people for a piece of human ass."
The insult ignites something primal in my chest, but the shackles hold me fast. I lean forward as much as the chains allow, baring my bloodied tusks in a feral grin.
"At least I chose mine. You're just following orders like a good little lapdog."
His fist crashes into my ribs where his sword cut deepest.
31
THALIA
The darkness tastes like iron and fear. My fingers tremble against the chains binding my wrists, the metal links cold enough to burn against my skin. Each breath scrapes through my throat like broken glass, but the physical pain means nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
Galthan.
His name echoes in my mind like a prayer I don't know how to finish. The memory of his roar—raw, desperate, my name torn from his throat like a battle cry—reverberates through my bones. I've never heard anything so fierce, so broken. The sound of a warrior reduced to something primal and afraid.
I close my eyes and see his face in those final moments before they dragged me away. The way his muscles strained against the shackles, blood streaming down his forearms where the metal bit into flesh. The wild fury in his dark eyes when they touched me. He fought like a man possessed, like someone with everything to lose.
Are they hurting him now? The question gnaws at me worse than hunger, worse than the throbbing in my skull where someone's fist connected during the struggle. Galthan canendure pain—I've seen his scars, felt them under my fingertips like a map of survival—but the thought of him suffering because of me makes bile rise in my throat.
I should have run when Rytha warned me. Should have disappeared into the forest and never looked back. But I couldn't leave him, couldn't abandon the first person who ever looked at me like I mattered. Now we're both trapped in the web of consequences I helped weave.
My wrists ache where the shackles bite, but I test them anyway, twisting my hands to see if there's any give in the metal. Nothing. The chains hold fast, anchored to something solid behind me. The stone wall presses against my spine, cold and unforgiving.
The door to my makeshift cell yanks open without warning. Rytha storms in like a hurricane given form, her amber eyes wild with fury that makes the air itself feel dangerous. Torchlight from outside catches the ceremonial tattoos covering her ash-gray skin, making them writhe like living serpents across her flesh.
Before I can speak, her hands slam into my shoulders, driving my back against the stone wall with enough force to rattle my teeth. Pain explodes across my shoulder blades as rough stone scrapes through my torn shirt.
"You stupid, worthless little bitch!" Her voice carries the kind of rage that comes from wounded pride, from plans crumbling into ash. "I gave you a chance to leave! I warned you what would happen!"
Her fist crashes into my cheek with the force of a war hammer. My head snaps to the side, stars bursting behind my eyelids as the taste of copper floods my mouth. The blow sends fire racing along my jawbone, but I don't cry out.
"You could have run!" Another strike, this one to my ribs. The air rushes from my lungs in a painful whoosh. "Could havedisappeared and saved us all this mess! But no—you had to spread your legs for my betrothed!"
Blood pools in my mouth where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek, but I swallow it down and meet her gaze. Her amber eyes burn with the kind of fury that devours everything in its path.
"Nothing to say?" She grabs my chin, her nails digging crescents into my skin. "No pathetic excuses? No begging for mercy?"
I could speak. Could grovel and plead and promise things I'd never mean. But the words stick in my throat like thorns. Instead, I taste blood and think of Galthan's hands on my skin, gentle despite their strength. Think of the way he whispered my name.
Rytha's eyes narrow at my silence, reading defiance where there should be submission.
"You seduced him!" Rytha's voice cracks like a whip through the cramped space. "You twisted his mind with your pathetic human wiles! Ruined everything I've worked for since I was old enough to understand what power means!"
She paces in front of me like a caged beast. Each step sends tremors through the stone floor.
"The alliance between our clans—years of negotiation, careful planning—destroyed because some scrawny slave decided to play at being a woman!"
Blood runs down my chin, but I lift my head anyway. The chains bite into my wrists as I straighten against the wall, finding strength I didn't know I possessed.
"I didn't do anything."
