Page 5

I nodded. “I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m here now,” Rada said quietly, helping Mirrim over the metal bar at the base of the door. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“Oh, child,” Mirrim whispered, her voice breaking. “None of us are safe. Not here.” I held the door for them, flinching at the footsteps behind me.

“Who’s that one, then? A new Omega?” I turned to face the two males who’d made it past Sandyl and stopped a few feet behind me. Both of them carried the heavy, bitter scent of madness like a cloud around them, and the taller one held a burning torch.

Fuck. I could feel Edan’s attention in the fire.

“Karl. Vallen.” I lifted my chin, though they were both a few inches taller than my own six feet, and far heavier. “Where’s Frol?” Karl was slightly larger than Vallen, but neither were close to Frol’s size.

“In the jungle,” Vallen snarled. “He had the last three heats. This one’s ours.”

Karl wrenched his gaze away from the now-closed door. “A new Omega?” He licked his fleshy lips and adjusted the front of his robe. “Mine.”

“She belongs to Edan,” I stated forcefully. “Karl, she is not to be touched. Our lord has placed her here for me to coax into a heat. Only me. If you touch her, Zahn will feed you to the maw.” My last word was punctuated by the unmistakable slide of the bar lock being dropped into place inside the door.

“Might be worth it,” Karl snarled, shoving me out of the way and sniffing at the door like a wild dog. Vallen didn’t speak, just replaced the extinguished torch with the new one before he began to circle the structure, his nails gouging the stone walls.

Karl straightened and bared his teeth at me. “Barracks.”

I didn’t want to leave Rada or the others, but I knew I couldn’t delay. Edan had use for me, but the fire beside the door flickered with more than a hint of darkness.

“After both of you.”

RADA

The Omega who led me through the door trembled, her expression revealing such a confusing mix of emotions I couldn’t follow them all. The dim light didn’t help; there were windows along both sides of the longhouse, but they were no more than seven inches wide, with thick iron bars running from the top to the bottom of each. There were no interior walls, only cloth curtains hanging in a haphazard fashion.

No, not entirely haphazard. From the main door, the curtains obscured all of the inhabitants, and when I tried to scent them, the odors—sweat, blood, vomit, and piss—overwhelmed any sweeter scents.

I could hear the feral Alphas moving outside and glanced at Mirrim as she froze in place. The bar lock on the door was nothing but an old piece of driftwood, and I knew that it wouldn’t keep out even one determined, feral Alpha. But they moved away after a moment, and the sound of the gate being locked had Mirrim relaxing, though she peered out the nearest window to watch them leave before she spoke again.

“Daughters? Come out if you feel you can. I want you to meet Lana’s girl, Rada.”

The curtains moved, as if a breeze were blowing through the space. One by one, women began to emerge and approach. None of them were as old as Mirrim, and most were younger than me. They were all malnourished, and though their hair and skin were different hues, their eyes were all the same. Haunted.

Except one. “Lana’s girl? Pretty.” The young woman stepped closer. She was blonde, her green eyes hazed with pain and heat, and her rose-and-vanilla scent slicing through the foul odors.

Like the others, her clothing was minimal, but she had dirt and what had to be feces smeared on her legs. I knew why, and ignored it. They all wore handwoven linen shift dresses, so loose as to hide any curves they might have underneath.

“Lana’s the one who escaped. You’re the b-baby? You’re not a baby.” Her Mirrenese words came out slowly, but her large brown eyes were brimming with curiosity and warmth. This had to be Rielle.

“Hello, Rielle. I’m Rada.”

She blinked at me for a long moment, her gaze catching on the burned mark on my neck, then burst into tears. “He caught you. He caught Lana’s baby.”

She wasn’t the only one crying. Three other young women surrounded her, comforting her, though tears streaked their dirty faces as well. I glanced at Mirrim for an explanation.

“I’ve told the story of your mother for all these years. My best friend who escaped. The only one to do so.” She glanced ruefully at her arm. “He took my arm for my part in helping her, and left me alive as a warning to the others as to what might happen if they tried it.” One corner of her mouth turned up, and I noticed a missing tooth on that side. “That story of her escape, and the ones I made up for the next thirty years have given us…” She sighed. “Well, not hope. But as close as we could get.”

A short-haired woman about my age stepped up to me, her eyes narrowed. “How did he catch you?”

“I’m Rada.” She didn’t share her name. I held out a hand, though. She accepted it, gripping me too hard. I glanced at her arms, noting the elaborate, dark tattoos she had from wrist to shoulder, words written in a language I didn’t know.

She took in my left arm with the starflower vines and tiny yellow flowers before asking again. “How did he get you here?”

I nodded at the door. “Is it safe to talk? The torch outside…”