“Why don’t I make you one of each?” he offered, sensing my confusion.

“Yes, if you can.” I nearly sighed with relief.

“You may have a seat there while you wait,” he said, indicating a plush cushion in the corner.

I nodded and went to it, settling back while he worked. I played with the ends of my long hair, picking at any splitting strands. At this point, I was accustomed to the boredom, and I let my mind wander. Unfortunately, the first place it went was to Rokath’s bedroom at Gyor Palace. Clamping down on that memory and shoving it aside, I tried to think of Izgath instead. That pain was a sharp enough slice in my already tattered heart that it extinguished any desire for my mate.

Everyone I loved died.

It hadn’t been two weeks since Rokath burned Izgath on the pyre, and it had been three seasons since my family died. Their loss still held that acute ache, so similar to the days after they passed.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must retrieve a few items from out there,” the male said, shattering my inner spiral.

“Of course,” I responded, and he slipped away.

I was utterly alone. Which, at this moment, wasn’t the worst thing. Scanning quickly, I looked for any sign of a second exit. Grem and Zeec were in the main room, and Rokath was preoccupied with his meeting. The bond wasn’t begging for either of our attention. Noting that the corner was tied around a pole, rather than stretched, I raced to it, pulling on the knots at the bottom and in the middle to loosen them.

If I could just widen them enough to slip through, no one would be the wiser…

The bottom one fell away, leaving me a slit to squeeze through, and I jumped on my opportunity. Night had fallen when I burst out the back, only a few feet of space between the rear of it and another tent. Had I been one of the large males, I wouldn’t have fit, but with my small, lithe frame, I could shimmy between the rows.

I wiggled to the right, toward what looked to be a small thoroughfare, when male voices halted me in my tracks.

“Did you see the fallen with the Halálhívó? They went to the clothier. I wonder if she needs to wear something other than those matronly dresses for him to get hard.”

Another snorted a laugh. “Can you imagine how he fucks though? It’s probably all barked orders and pleasure for himself.”

“I bet he takes her from behind and finishes within a minute. No time to waste on such acts,” another chirped, trying to mimic Rokath’s gravely tone.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to remain still and quiet. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

“No way they are fucking. I bet he is loud, or will make her scream. Whether that’s pleasure or fear though, I wouldn’t know.”

“Aye, other than her riding beside him, he seems to want nothing to do with her,” the first one spoke again.

“Wonder why she’s even here then? Seems suspicious to me. He’s never shown interest in having children before. All his focus is on winning. Why divert his attention?” the second mused.

“He’s fucking brilliant. Maybe he knows something we don’t,” the third suggested.

“Maybe her pussy is magic and will win us the war,” the first joked, and the three roared with laughter.

Heat pricked my skin, and I dug my teeth into my lower lip in an attempt to prevent myself from jumping out and snapping at them.

“Shh, if he’s still around and hears us speaking this way, we’ll all be tied to the whipping post,” a fourth voice entered the conversation.

“Oh, come on, we all know you worship the ground he walks on–”

“I’m almost finished with the first set if you’d like to try it on,” I heard the clothier call out, and my heart leaped to my throat. He couldn’t catch me trying to escape. He’d tell Rokath in a heartbeat. So I hurried the two steps back to the tent, praying he hadn’t entered and found me missing. He burst through the flap the same time I did, and I plastered a smile on my face and tried to cover the loosened fabric with my body.

“Thank you. Do you mind if I change alone?” I said in a rush.

“Oh, of course, I’ll just leave this here for you. Please inform me when you are dressed,” he replied, placing the tunic on the table and backing away.

Air fled my lungs and my shoulders dropped as he disappeared.

That was too close.

Hurriedly, I secured the strings again, then went to the table. The leather tunic was sleeveless, flexible but thick, and the fabric was smooth beneath my palm. The pants were similar. I exchanged the dress for the armor, feeling strangely confident as I laced the tunic down one side.

When the clothier returned, he made adjustments until it fit snugly. “Now that I can have a better look at you, I will adjust the others similarly,” he promised. His eyes caught on my scarred wrists as I dropped them to my sides again.

A blush pinkened my cheeks. “Thank you.”

“The others I’ll have to make tomorrow, and I shall ensure they are delivered to the Halálhívó’s tent. The hour is growing late, I’m afraid,” he said, rolling up the discarded scraps of fabric.

“Yes, it is,” I said, gathering my dress and leggings. Hunger gnawed at my belly, and I wanted to eat and return before Rokath did. He’d cause an uproar and I’d lose this seed of trust.

The clothier held back the flap for me, and I returned to the main area, finding Grem and Zeec right where I’d left them. “Come on, boys,” I said, and they shot to their feet, framing me in a protective guard. Every single pair of eyes burned into my back as we exited the tent.

Even more landed on me when I was faced with having to retrieve my own food. I appreciated Rapp even more for how he’d handled that for me as I stood among the males, waiting my turn to approach the cook. The line all but dissipated around me with everyone giving me a wide berth. Grem growled at a soldier who crossed a little too close for his liking to return his dirty dishes.

“Not you too,” I whisper-snapped at him.

His red eyes blinked up at me as if to say ‘I am just doing my job.’

“I know,” I sighed, scratching behind his ears. Zeec butted my thigh with his head. “You’re greedy,” I scolded him, but I offered him some affection anyway.

I’d devolved to talking to the dogs like they could understand me.

The cook said nothing as he handed me a bowl and bread. I thanked him anyway. I tried not to look any male in the eye as I strode through the dining tables, keeping my head high and shoulders back. But it didn’t stop the gossip from reaching my ears.

Fuck Rokath for putting me through all of this.

Fuck the Weaver, too.

It was as much her fault as it was his. Well, moreso since she wove this path for both of us. I stewed in my anger the entire trip back to Rokath’s tent. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there for me to unleash it on when I returned. So I ate with the company of Grem and Zeec, mulling over what I had heard in my single venture out without Rokath.

I wore a muzzle, unable to snap at those who slandered my name. I had to live this fucking lie, pretend I was something I was not, all to appease the most powerful Demons in the realm. All my life, I’d been forced to hold my tongue, punished if I did not, and I was tired of it.

The hounds climbed dutifully into bed with me after I’d finished my meal. I buried my face in one of the soft pillows and sighed. Grem and Zeec curled up on either side of me, and then Zeec rested his head on my leg as if he sensed I needed someone to comfort me too. Grem nudged me with his nose until my arms were wrapped around him.

That was enough to send me over the edge, and then, I cried myself to sleep.

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