Page 4

She’d known me before Edan had broken my body and mind.

There was no fire near us, and he wasn’t moving in my mind, so he couldn’t hear me reply. But the Betas who walked ahead and behind us would. “My lord is the one who created this island, and his chief servants designed the holdings.”

“Chief servants?” she taunted. “You’re not one of them?”

Sandyl, the guard behind us, scoffed. “He’s no priest. He’s our lord’s greatest disappointment. He’s tried a half-dozen times to escape and take the breeders with him. That’s why he spends his time chained to the side of the maw.” One of the others hissed, and Sandyl closed his mouth with an audible click.

The head of the line called out an order to march. We began to descend the shallow rise toward the sea that sparkled in the distance. When the Betas had fallen behind, she whispered, “You’re his avatar, though.” Shame coursed through me as I nodded. “Why, Serak?”

“The children,” was all I could say, but the words held a decade of agony.

She must have understood. One slender hand drifted toward me, and she pressed her fingertips to the back of my wrist. Her simple touch was the only kindness I’d known in months. I shuddered at the unfamiliar gentleness.

It took another hour to reach the longhouse, following the path that bordered a small freshwater stream. Sandyl used his key to open the tall iron fence that surrounded the compound, and closed it behind me and Rada. Except for Sandyl, our escort all returned to their posts at the ridge and outside the fence. “You have five minutes,” he said with a grunt.

Rada and I walked past the over-picked garden and up to the Omega longhouse. The torch on the wall outside the door smoked, the usual flame extinguished by the afternoon rain, perhaps. I kept an eye on the trees to the sides of the longhouse, in case one of the Alphas who lived on the eastern side decided to take advantage of the unlocked gate.

“Who are we looking for?”

“There are three Alphas, the breeding males. You’ll know them by sight. They still have their noses.” I knocked on the solid door: two loud, short beats, followed by three softer, longer ones, then four sharp ones again. “My code.”

Rada hummed, taking note. “Only three?”

“Alphas don’t live long on this island.” Most of them went mad in their first rut. The ones who survived were always a danger. Rada’s scent was subtle, but two of these three Alphas were so close to feral, it didn’t matter.

After a long moment, the sound of the interior beam moving trickled through the thick wood door. A woman I knew well emerged from the darkened longhouse and bowed to me, her balance not affected by her missing left arm.

Mirrim was the oldest Omega on the island, and her hair was as silver as the scars that lined her face and body. The ones hidden by her loose dress were the worst of them, but she carried herself with pride. “Serak. You are always welcome. Did you bring any herbs from—” She gasped as Rada stepped around me and moved toward her. “Lana?” Mirrim fell to her knees. “It is Lana. Am I dreaming?”

Rada kneeled beside her, holding out a hand, but not touching the older woman. “What is she saying, Serak?” she whispered.

“She knows Mirrenese,” I replied, the only language the women here could understand other than Pictish, since I’d taught it to them after my first visit to Mirren as a youth.

Rada switched, using the formal language one would with an elder or royalty as she addressed Mirrim. “My lady, by your leave. My name is Rada. May I help you rise?”

“You’re…” Mirrim gazed up at Rada, then shifted so she could lift her hand to touch Rada’s face. “May I touch you?” she whispered, and something passed between the two as Rada nodded.

I wanted to ask what unspoken conversation had just occurred, but the intimacy of the moment was unmistakable.

Mirrim’s scarred fingers traced Rada’s jawline, avoiding the burn marks Edan had left there, though she sighed deeply as she took them in. Then the gnarled hand rose to Rada’s high forehead, following her hairline before they drifted down her cheek and rested on her stubborn chin.

“You look exactly like your mother, except for the eyes. Lana had dark eyes.”

“You knew my mother?” The guard up at the gate made some noise, and Rada moved her hand to Mirrim’s upper arm, helping her rise. “Let’s go inside.”

“I cannot,” I said gently. “I have to report to the barracks.”

Rada’s gaze shot to me. “Alphas stay in the barracks?”

“The males on this side of Pict are almost all Betas now. All but four Alphas have been taken as priests or servants of the Alldyns Vug.” I scanned the yard again, looking for Karl, Vallen, and Frol. They usually hung around the Omega longhouse at this time of day, but I didn’t see them now.

“Except for the ones chosen for breeding,” Mirrim finished. “One of the younger women is close to her first heat. My guess is tomorrow at the latest. Serak, she’s already so weak. She won’t survive it.”

“Who?” There were less than a dozen young Omegas, some of them practically children.

Her lip trembled for a moment. “Rielle.”

My gut churned. Rielle was the child of the last head priest. She was only seventeen, but she’d been attacked by a feral Alpha when she was ten and had never truly recovered. She had trouble speaking and was terrified of Alphas. All the younger children adored her, some of them only able to sleep when she held them.