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“C-c-captain.” The female elf exclaimed, her eyes wide and focused behind Nova.
Nova didn’t want to turn. The first time she glimpsed Captain Grung’s green brutish skin, seven-foot stature, and severe underbite, she’d peed her pants like a baby. His enemies’ bones dangled from a cord around his neck and clattered like a dreadful wind chime every time he moved. Lice crawled in his matted black hair. Dirt, stink, and poor hygiene worsened his lecherous and lingering stares.
When he’d proclaimed her untouchable, Nova thought perhaps he had a heart under those bulging pectorals. But then she’d learned he just wasn’t that clever. He’d decreed her untouchable because the fewer rules to follow, the better.
He’d only painted the warning on her back because, for now, they needed her to prepare the food. Oh, but he’d groped, fondled, and licked her fingers. One of his soldiers complained each time, saying the same rules applied to everyone.
She was toast as soon as he figured out how to have his cake and eat it. Escape was on her mind daily, but two things had stopped her. Firstly, escapees were killed. The original occupant of her dress was that lesson. And secondly, if she miraculously evaded that fate… where would she go?
Elphyne was at war. Monsters roamed the wilderness. She knew nothing about this place apart from what she’d snatched from overheard conversations.
The female elf hissed and snarled. Glancing up, Nova realized the aggression was aimed at her.
“This is your fault,” the fae snapped.
“What?”
Confused, Nova turned to the horned female, and where the elf had grown angry, this one was green with fear. Nova glanced at the soldiers and found their argument with their captain had become contemplative. Grung rubbed his bulbous jaw, casting a thoughtful glance their way.
“What’s happening?” she whispered to the elf. “I can’t hear from here.”
“They’re negotiating the evening’s entertainment.”
“That’s not so bad… right?” Games or training battles kept the soldiers occupied. But she supposed even those were running out of steam. They’d been stationed here too long while hunting the manticore. Even the town they’d pillaged was picked bone dry of resources and victims.
The elf flattened her lips. “If you call auctioning us off as brides not bad—”
“Not brides,” the horned fae gasped, her wide eyes locked on the soldiers. “Mates. We’re to be prizes in a mate hunt.”
“What?” Nova’s blood ran cold. “But… who will cook?”
“That’s why we’ll be officially mated. If we belong to an individual and not passed around, we can still cook, but the squabbling over us will cease.”
Nova scrambled to assemble pieces of Elphyne culture she’d overheard about mating rituals. It was a little like marriage, only more permanent and revered. Mates were often united for life… only parted by death.
It had taken Grung a few months, but he’d finally found a way to have his cake. And when he was done eating it, she’d be dead.
ChapterFour
Leaf rode his horse through the small, decimated riverside village. Embers still glowed in the burned and pillaged houses. Corpses smelled like charred meat, making his stomach crawl and yet still clench in hunger.
He’d hoped to rest at the inn before crossing the river in the morning and continuing to the ruins. Ultimately, he’d taken Clarke’s new direction over the one he’d sourced himself. Now, he regretted it.
A chill ran down his spine.
His horse’s clip-clop echoed in the quiet night. No survivors. No sounds except the sizzle or crack of wood settling. The modest village existed to ferry travelers across the river, but no belongings of value were left behind.
Old, dried blood crusted over the dirty streets. His horse whinnied at a rat scampering past.
“Whoa,” he muttered softly, reining it in.
While his steed calmed, he sighed and finally scanned the village. It wasn’t a secret that most Well-blessed females disagreed with the Order’s policy to avoid fae politics. It couldn’t be a coincidence Clarke sent him in this direction. Did she expect him to rummage for survivors? To finally choose a side in the war? Or maybe he was paranoid, looking for a better fate beneath every upturned and incinerated village.
He recalled his last argument with the Prime before she disappeared again. A wild, desperate look had flitted in her ancient eyes.
“You fool.” She tossed a book at him. He ducked, and it sailed past his head to crash against the wall. “You were quite happy following the prophecy so long as it didn’t apply to you.”
“And I’ll continue to follow it,” he calmly reminded her. “If you reveal the parts you’re keeping from us.”
