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Aktor narrowed his eyes, his spear glinting with moonlight. “You have one of my people.” He pointed the tip at me. “Right there.” He smiled. “She left the safety of the fire, and it’s my duty to ensure she returns. I’ve come to bring her home.”

The hot waves of anger pouring off the stranger terrified me. He acted as if he didn’t suffer fevers or a wound. If he picked a fight with two of the Nhil’s most cunning hunters, he wouldn’t survive the night.

Stepping in front of him, I cupped my hands together, fighting the urge to hide my bare chest. “I appreciate your concern for my well-being, Aktor, and of course, I will return...that’s the direction we were heading.” Forcing a smile, I added, “This man is a traveller...like me. He doesn’t remember who he is or where he’s from...like me.” I tipped up my chin. “He’s hurt, and I’m bringing him back to camp for a healer to—”

“You’re not Nhil yet, Girl,” Kivva snapped, his freckles gleaming in the darkness. “You can’t bring foreigners into our midst just because you found a stray.”

“But Syn bit him. It’s my fault he’s—”

“Syn looks after her pack. If she’s decided he’s not safe, then come away from him.” Aktor held out the hand not wrapped threateningly around his spear. “Come. We’ll take you.”

I shook my head. “He needs a healer. If he doesn’t receive care, he’ll—”

“Most likely die of fevers.” Kivva nodded harshly. “Just like you would’ve died without our aid. You owe us your life, Girl, so do as you’re told.” His lips thinned. “Come away from him and let him give up his secrets or he won’t just die of fevers. He’ll die because he refuses to answer our questions.”

“What?” My mouth fell open. “He’s not refusing. He’s—”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” The stranger pushed in front of me, protecting me with his body. He trembled a little with his injury. His back bunched with tense muscles, decorated with pinprick scabs from Syn’s claws, but he showed no other signs of illness. “Let us pass.”

Aktor smiled. A cold, flat smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Unlike the warmth of his mother and father, he’d inherited none of their diplomatic, wise leadership. “How about you return to wherever you came from and leave the girl with us.”

I shivered.

I’d only shared a few words with Aktor in the month I’d lived with the Nhil, and all of them had been in the company of either Solin, Tiptu, or Niya. He’d kept his tone civil and posture polite, but Niya had been right to warn me.

I saw it now.

Saw the tightly leashed anger that he couldn’t hide beneath his duty as firstborn. He couldn’t hide his loathing for me. Loathing I didn’t understand.

Moving to the stranger’s side, I skimmed my fingers with his. “We need to go,” I whispered in the tongue we shared that wasn’t Firenese.

His head whipped to me as his smoke-grey eyes narrowed. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He read my nervousness and warnings as easily as if I’d shouted them.

Grabbing my hand, he tugged me tightly against him as his gaze locked on the two Nhil hunters. “I suggest you leave. You’re not needed. I will take her.”

Kivva chuckled, running his hand up and down the staff he always carried. The same staff I’d seen when I first woke by the river’s edge, and Niya had fought to save me. “I hadn’t planned on dancing with death tonight, but you’re standing in the way of our pleasure.” Kivva shared another look with Aktor. “Pleasure that we’re taking...one way or another, isn’t that right, Aktor?”

Something flashed in the chief’s son’s gaze before he swallowed hard and nodded. “Right.”

Swinging his staff until it slapped against his other palm, Kivva stepped forward. “Last chance, foreigner. Leave and forget all about this place and that girl you’re holding. Or stay and we’ll ensure you’ll have no need of a healer.” He grinned, his skin so pale in the night, compared to Aktor’s darkness. “We’ll show you mercy and cull you, just like we cull the weakest bison from the herd.”

My heart banged against my ribs as the ringing of polished stone on leather filled the tension between us. The Nhil had many weapons—mostly carved from willow trees and hardened by flames. But they also had blades, honed with stone as sharp as fangs, traded by a people who’d travelled through the grasslands a long time ago.

Solin had one, as did Tral.

And now I knew Aktor had one too.

My stomach churned as the stranger held his ground.

He had no weapon, no blade.

He couldn’t win.

Where’s Syn?

I scanned the dark grasses, seeking the sleek ripples of the lynx. But wherever she’d run off to, she hadn’t returned. And even if she did, why would she defend me against her pack? She’d known Aktor and Kivva since she was a cub. Her loyalty would lie with them...not me.

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