Their stares burned into me anyway. Why wouldn’t they? I was unveiled, scarcely dressed, and female.

Uzadaan and Dromak skidded to a stop in front of Drul and Ikket, shouting and gesticulating wildly. Every bit of attention landed squarely on them until Jaku and I caught up. With a sharp whistle he sliced through their words and silenced them. “Fetch Parancsok Olet. These two need to be tried and punished.”

“What the fuck is going–” Dromak protested, but Jaku cut him off.

“Do I need to add you to the group for not carrying out a direct order?”

Dromak’s eyes widened a fraction before he shook his head. “No, sir.” The words came out bitter, my friend unable to hide his displeasure with the whole situation.

Uzadaan’s attention lingered on me a moment longer before he and Dromak strode off in whatever direction they needed to find Jaku’s superior officer. Then, our shameful parade continued on, deeper into the massive war camp.

By the time we reached what I assumed was where we would be punished, males were shoving against each other to get a better view of the lone platform and the post buried in the center of it. On either side, leather straps hung, limp and waiting to be used, though for what I did not know. Off to one side, a barred cage waited, two males sitting and picking at their nails as if this was something they witnessed regularly. Opposite it, a massive black tent sprawled in every direction, soldiers in gleaming red armor standing outside it.

Drul and Ikket threw Izgath down on the wooden platform. He shot to his feet, ready to fight them again, but they overpowered him. Shoving him to his knees in front of the post, they each yanked an arm forward and secured them in the leather straps. Uzadaan and Dromak emerged a moment later from the tent, followed by the male from the viewing ceremony with the maroon armor—Parancsok Olet.

“Százados Jaku, what is the meaning of this?” he addressed the male carrying me. I’d since stopped struggling and waited passively for him to release me to the ground. He didn’t.

“I caught these two coupling in another Vezető’s tent. Kormánzó Vagach to be precise, and he is nowhere to be found. Vezető Izgath claims to have slain him only a short time before, but I believe he is lying. He offered me several interesting stories,” Jaku sneered. His breath was hot on my ear, and not in a pleasant way.

Uzadaan and Dromak stood behind Parancsok Olet, their eyes pleading and bouncing between Izgath and me, trying to make sense of the unfolding events.

“I see. And who is this?” he asked, dipping his head to indicate me.

“She has not revealed her identity, but Izgath claimed she was on the perimeter of the camp looking for coin,” Jaku replied. Then, he finally dropped me, and I fell in a rough heap at his feet. Pushing myself upright, I tried to straighten the tunic as best I could to preserve what modesty I had left. Pain speared through my scalp as Jaku took hold of my hair and forced my head up to look at his superior. “But those eyes would never belong to a fallen female.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. I’d likely have been sold to some noble for his personal use rather than housed in a group like the one we’d visited in Osijek.

Parancsok Olet cocked his head to the side, studying me. I fought the urge to flinch.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Izgath shouted, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We’ll get to you,” Parancsok Olet growled, dismissing him as he strode toward me. Uzadaan and Dromak followed a step behind him, both looking like they wanted to simultaneously bolt and to fight.

Jaku released me, allowing Parancsok Olet to grip my chin and turn my head this way and that. “So young, and so very pretty too. What’s your name?”

I gathered what little saliva I could manage and spit it in his face. Fuck this male. I’d rather die than let him use me like Vagach had. He jerked back, rage tightening his features. “You bitch.”

He tossed me to the ground like I was nothing more than waste. “Restrain her,” he said to Uzadaan and Dromak. They hesitated for a moment, shared a look, then strode around him. Each securing a grip on my arms, they hauled me to my feet. Yet their actions lacked the roughness Jaku and Parancsok Olet had offered me.

From his belt, Parancsok Olet pulled something black and long wrapped around itself like a coiled snake. He approached the wooden platform where Izgath was bound, and the camp fell so silent I thought I could hear Dromak’s racing heart. His fingers tightened ever so slightly over my bicep.

Jaku joined Parancsok Olet and the two circled Izgath like predators stalking prey. By the time Parancsok Olet faced me again, I realized what he held in his hand. A black whip, with nine short strands studded with metal, waved in the breeze that blew through the tents surrounding us. The force whipped my hair about, and three caws broke the silence. The birds flapped furiously overhead as if they too knew blood was about to be spilled.

Pure terror chilled me to the bone as he approached Izgath.

This is all my fault.

The sound of ripping fabric sliced the silence next, and Izgath’s muscled torso was bared for all to see. “What happened to Kormánzó Vagach?” Jaku questioned, pausing by Izgath’s head while Parancsok Olet rounded behind him and raised the whip.

A whimper slipped out of me unbidden, fingers flexing in a desperate attempt to fidget with something, anything, to relieve the anxiety nipping at them.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Izgath spit out, continuing to defend me.

The whistle as the whip sliced through the air immediately imprinted on my memory, forever to haunt my dreams. Red marks welled where the strike landed, but Izgath did not cry out. Uzadaan and Dromak’s grips tightened together, and they shot looks over my head. Neither of them could intervene.

“I’ll ask you again. What happened to Kormánzó Vagach?” Jaku continued his interrogation, seeming completely unbothered that one of his trusted Vezető was on the receiving end of that whip.

Izgath said nothing and stared straight past him at the gathered males, watching, waiting, to see what the path the Weaver had given him.

The whip cut through the air again, this time drawing drops of blood to the surface of Izgath’s skin. Still, he did not utter a sound.

Jaku asked a third time, and a third lash landed across his back. With a frustrated sigh, he rose from his crouched position and nodded to Parancsok Olet. The male raised the whip, pausing at the top as if he were drawing out the anticipation, then let his blow land with more force than his previous three.

But he did not stop there.

He struck three more times in quick succession, never giving Izgath a moment to catch his breath. His body jerked beneath the strikes, muscles tensing and pushing more blood from his back. On the last, he cried out, a sound so pained that it shattered my heart.

“Stop! Please!” I pleaded, but Jaku didn’t even glance my way.

Parancsok Olet did not relent, until Izgath collapsed, unable to hold himself steady any longer.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Jaku asked Izgath.

Through heaving breaths, Izgath shook his head. Despite the pain, despite his back flayed open, despite our short time together, he was going to protect me. The thought robbed me of breath.

Jaku and Parancsok Olet stood with their heads together for a moment, then seemed to come to some sort of an agreement. When they parted, Parancsok Olet strode back into the black tent and was gone for only a moment before he returned, a sick gleam in his maroon eyes. “Prepare a pyre.”

“No!” I shrieked, lunging forward, but Uzadaan and Dromak held me firm. More shouts rang out among the gathered males, and my throat went raw from how piercing my cry for Izgath was. “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you! It was me!”