CHAPTER TWELVE

Naya woke with a start, her hand rushing to her neck.

Everything was calm. Her heartbeat throbbed slow and steady, and she lay on the bottom of the cart. Pushing off the blankets, she sat up. It was morning. The sky had morphed to a soft dark blue waiting for the sun to break into the horizon. The campfires stirred, low murmurings and clattering of equipment filtering through the camp.

Naya rose up to her knees looked around for the beast, violent words on her tongue as she wrestled with her anger that he had literally driven her unconscious through strangulation. Although she was his prisoner, they had agreed that she would be a reluctant guest. What exactly did that mean? Torture and strangulation weren’t commonplace rules of engagement—at least none that she’d ever studied. Also, if she couldn’t ask questions it’d be difficult to find out how to get out of here and take information back to her father. Scrunching her blankets in her fist, she let her anger rage through her. She hated him. The domination and control, and the unwillingness to be fair was reminiscent of Alphas through history who were too single-minded to listen to reason. He wanted his control over her to be absolute, that she should do what he said immediately. She wasn’t some fucking animal he could bark orders at.

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The camp hummed with growing chatter and noise and people moved around preparing for travel. Naya watched them, swallowing her curses as her anger faded into a reluctant realization. If the beast had allowed her to ask questions revealing information about his plan or a way for her to escape, he wouldn't be a real threat because he’d be stupid. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t allow it. If she was in his position she wouldn’t either. But she also wouldn’t enjoy torturing anyone the way he seemed to.

Women approached and removed her magical dome so they could change and rinse her squat pot and collect her empty food bowl. She was given three more furry fruits, a small loaf of bread with raisins, and a bowl of some kind of grain. Her stem—tmae—was replaced, and one woman took her to a small tent farther down the fleet to bathe.

Once the campfires had been packed up, the beast arrived with his usual group. Naya was irritated he looked so calm. His gaze locked onto her when he strode past to climb onto his nnirae, within it held a challenging look that taunted her to defy him. She glared back until he mounted.

Soon they were on their way. The fleet traveled again all day and camped at night. The healer checked her over and gave her a bitter, herby potion to drink, and a woman brought her meals. The beast stood by the nearest campfire watching her eat but she turned her back to him again, hoping it annoyed him as much as it had last night.

As night descended, she tried to fight the drowsiness that came over her, but accidentally fell asleep. This time she was in Lox Palace, sitting on her throne in the Great Hall with Mama and Papa beside her. The hall was full of citizens, but they were silent, just watching the three of them. When she turned to look at her parents, they were melting—bubbling streams of pus and blood softening their shape until they were blobs in their thrones. And then her throne started heating.

She woke up thrashing, unable to catch her breath and rolled onto her side, forcing the air out of her lungs. Slowly, she controlled her inhale and exhale, continuing until her breathing returned to normal.

That nightmare had been worse than yesterday.

“What do you dream that is so terrible you scream like that?”

Naya’s nerves jolted and for a moment she couldn’t answer, just stared open-mouthed at the irritated-looking beast looming over her cart. Then she scowled. “Why do you keep⁠—"

She cut her words off seeing his brows draw down, tight and furrowed. No questions. She held up her palms. “I forgot,” she said slowly. Taking a breath, she forced herself to answer him. “I have nightmares sometimes.”

His annoyed expression didn’t change. “Repeated?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I-I…” Naya couldn’t find the words to continue. She’d never spoken to anyone about this except her parents and her healer.

His head tilted, a brow inching up just enough to mock her. "What kind of trauma could the Princess of the Lox Empire possibly have?”

Naya said nothing. Only the royal family knew about her episodes and her symptoms. It was good to know that hadn't been compromised, even by him.

The beast scowled. "For such a sheltered princess, your troubles can't be significant enough to plague you here, not when you have more pressing concerns."

"I wouldn't expect you to know anything about trauma.”

A darkness flashed through his face. "Why?"

"Because you cause it," she spat. "You’re willing to cause horrific trauma on an entire continent of people for your own gain."

"War is war." His words were blunt. "The trauma of it is the whole point. No one would choose it, but it is necessary. Do you think your father hasn’t caused trauma for the people he warred with?"

Naya’s anger flared brighter at his audacity to mention Papa. "My father doesn't declare open war on an entire people unnecessarily."

"Why do you think my decision is unnecessary?"

“You have your own world. You don’t need ours.”

He leaned in, a sudden fury in his face and his words hard. “Spoken so boldly by the ignorant little cunt who didn’t even know anything existed outside of her precious Known Lands.”

Naya’s fury matched his. “We have done nothing to deserve the violence you plan for my people.”

“Again,” the Alpha said, the coldness of his anger icier than the wind, “bold fucking ignorance.”

Naya frowned, curiosity hooking her for the first time. Was he suggesting⁠—

"You are rumored to be a fierce warrior,” he said, interrupting her thought. “What do you think a warrior’s job is?”

“To fight well and gain the advantage. That’s it. Their job doesn’t necessarily mean wiping out an entire culture. That decision isn’t their responsibility.”

“A warrior could refuse to fight.”

Naya shook her head. “An army cannot.”

The beast observed her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. “Have you ever even killed anyone?”

The air was suddenly thin. Naya drew her knees up and around her arms around them. “I don’t see how that is relevant.”

“If you’ve never been in battle, you are not a warrior.”

Naya battled the anger, fear, and insulted pride that clamored for dominance. “I have fought as a warrior, if that’s what you mean.”

“When? How?”

“When I was younger. I fought alongside the Lox against resistance groups.”

“And you killed people?”

“I tried not to, but some won’t stop even if you incapacitate them.”

The beast nodded, looking over her head into the distance behind her. Naya got the feeling that he was one of those people. “Is this where you gained your trauma?” he asked, eventually.

Naya didn’t say anything for a long moment, weighing up whether to lie or not. “No. And I never said I had trauma.”

“No. I don’t think you know what trauma is.”

Naya glared at him, but said nothing. He was just trying to anger her. This had nothing to do with her people or her land.

“Tell me what you dreamed about,” he said. “And stop evading my questions.”

Naya snorted. “You’re going to have to get used to that.”

The beast’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Me evading you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she clamped it shut. Why did she say that?

Displeasure distorted his face. Leaning forward, his hand moved on the outside of her cart, and her dome disappeared. The wind rushed in, and the beast stepped close, his giant form looming over her. The glint in his eyes held a threat so promising it made Naya’s insides numb.