“Let’s go find you food then,” I told them, rising to my feet and fetching my leather tunic. It was sticky when I put it back on, but I laced it up regardless.

The camp was still mid-setup, though mostly on the fringes. The center was always the first erected, and by now I knew exactly where the first food tent was. The cook saw us coming and handed me two bowls of raw meat for the loyal hounds. I perched on the edge of a long bench and watched them devour it in three bites. Then, I rinsed the bowls and filled them with water, setting them at their feet again. They lapped it greedily, droplets coating their furry muzzles and plopping against the earth by the time they finished.

We sat there for a little longer, watching the soldiers milling about, getting food, dipping in and out of tents, walking by. At least now that I was in pants and a tunic, they paid me less attention. I wondered how Rokath was going to spin our lack of coupling to them. No doubt he was barking at his officers about it now.

With a groan, I rose, and jerked my head at the dogs. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Slowly, we ambled through the camp in large, aimless circles, passing flag after flag, until I blinked and realized we neared the edge. Twilight was fast approaching, and we needed to return to the center so I could dine with Rapp.

An eerie quiet clung to the section. I paused mid-turn, listening for any sign of activity. But no one was around, and only a distant roar reached my ears.

Could I run?

After the way Rokath treated me upon arriving, I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him. Yet after passing a dozen more carcasses with vultures greedily picking at what remained on their bones, death would be a constant threat.

Rokath had also sworn to hunt me down on multiple occasions. After he’d punished me for saying his name, I didn’t doubt that he would. Yet, I couldn’t find it in me to care. An ember of hope said I should at least try.

Grem and Zeec would surely follow, but perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing. They were trained to bite and kill, and they could hunt animals for me on our return journey, leaving only water as the primary concern. I knew enough about plants to know which ones held it for safekeeping during long droughts.

My heart leaped to my throat. If I was going to go, I had to now. The dimming light would aid me in my surreptitious departure.

Throwing up a firm mental barrier, I sucked in a deep breath and sprinted beyond the last of the tents.

The hounds took off too, running right alongside me, tongues lolling out of their mouths. In the distance, hearty bushes dotted the landscape, and I raced toward them, hoping the brush would hide my fleeing form. Rocks waited there too, and I slipped between them, half-running, half-climbing as I navigated the terrain. The dogs had no problem with it, weaving and leaping, and Grem released an excited bark.

Shit, I hope no one heard that.

“Hush,” I wheezed at him, leaping down from a boulder and cutting back toward the distant mountains. The lights from the camp grew distant, and a sense of giddiness filled me.

Fuck Rokath, I was going to be free.

Our bond scorched my back, finally realizing my intentions and my actions. I ignored it, steeling my spine and sprinting faster. My arms pumped wildly as I tried to put as much distance between the camp and me.

The effort burned my lungs and finally forced me to slow, if only to a jog so I could suck down dusty, albeit much needed air. Grem and Zeec eased their pace too, panting as they trotted alongside me. “We’ve got this,” I told them, mostly in reassurance to myself.

But then, Rokath exploded into my mind.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Assyria. Are you seriously trying to run? You know this bond will lead me straight to you. And when I get there, I will drag you back to this camp and throw a chain around that pretty neck of yours and make you the slave that always rests at my feet. I’m giving you one opportunity to turn around and come back now.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I shouted down our bond, and then I sprinted again.

A feral roar filled the air, and ice shattered through my veins. Rokath’s rage slammed into my back, nearly sending me stumbling. I caught myself on a rock, hissing as something sharp sliced into my palms. But I couldn’t stop, because he was after me. The wicked thrill racing down the bond told me as much.

Stealing a glance at my palms, I cursed again, deep cuts welling dark ruby and spilling over my palms and to the sand.

Guess I’m making a second offering today.

“Weaver, let me get away,” I pleaded, since I was already giving her my blood.

Three sharp caws sounded overhead, and I whipped my head toward the darkening sky, barely making out the forms of three black crows. Shouts rang out around the camp, and I gritted my teeth and forced my feet to move again.

“Come back now and I won’t fuck you in front of the entire camp as punishment. This generosity will not be offered again,” Rokath threatened into my mind.

“And finally put all those rumors to rest?”

Frustration leaked down the bond. “You’re going to fucking die out there, Assyria. I thought you were smarter than this. Stop where you are and I will carry you back to camp.”

“I won’t die, and I’ll be free of you. It will be the greatest victory the Demon Realm has ever known.”

I slammed up a barrier again because I needed to focus. The unfortunate part about my chosen path was that the rocks grew harder and harder to see. Grem and Zeec seemed to have no issue navigating, so I followed their path as best as I could. We rounded an especially large boulder, with sharp, thorny bushes surrounding its base.

Too late, I noticed one in the path in front of me, and my foot tangled in it, sending me careening toward the ground.

“Fuck!” I cursed as I landed half on my side. My shoulder popped, and pain raced up and down my arm. With an anguished cry, I rolled onto my back, clutching it. But the motion sliced the thorns into my calf.

Reaper, now I’m even more injured.

Carefully sitting up, I used my still functioning hand to work my way free of the bush, but not without a few more cuts.

Grem released a sharp bark, and Zeec growled, sending me whipping around.

Rokath couldn’t have found me already, right?

A hiss followed, long and low, and my blood froze.

Within striking distance, a blood-red cobra waited, its hood flared and tongue flicking in my direction. I recognized it immediately for what it was—the most deadly serpent in all of Keleti. I couldn’t breathe, for I didn’t dare move. One bite from this snake, and I would be dead within hours.

Grem and Zeec’s hackles were raised, and they continued to snarl. The snake paid them no attention, solely focused on me. My mind blanked of everything but this intense staredown.

Weaver, Giver, Reaper, please let it slither away.

But it vibrated, coiling backward, preparing to strike.

A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. Wanted to scream.

My life was nothing more than a joke to the Fates. One cruel joke after another. I would die out here, as alone as I’d felt for the past eight years of my life. At least then, all the pain would end.

I don’t want to die.

The thought sent hot tears to my eyes. For so long, I had wanted that, and now, the moment I was facing the Reaper, I realized just how badly I wanted to live.

I pressed my lips together and gritted my teeth. Shoving my palms into the ground, I attempted to move myself backward and curl my legs toward me.

The cobra’s tongue flicked at me before another hiss escaped.

I froze. It didn’t.