Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Willow
“Well, what are you standing there staring at us for?” the first man asks, sounding annoyed. “Go change!” He gestures to the tent I stepped out of and I hesitate.
I want to ask about the Mating Hunt, but it sounds like something I should already know about, and they already seem angry. Maybe if they leave, I can sneak out and find someone else to help me?
Silently, I duck back into the tent and glance around at all the clothing. It would be nice to get out of this filthy nightgown and cover myself up a bit more. I pull off the sweater Aribella gave me, then look around for a dress that will fit my small frame.
I find a soft blue one that looks simpler than most of the others in here, with no petticoats and only one layer of fabric. I pull off my tattered nightgown and realize I’ll have no undergarments beneath the dress. Glancing around, I see no replacements.
With no other choice, I carefully pull on the new dress over my naked, battered body. It’s painful to move like this, but I do the best I can, grunting and hissing in pain the entire time.
The dress appears to have built-in support, not that I need much, and it doesn’t fit too badly. It’s a little loose on my arms and around my middle, where it’s meant to be fitted, but it won’t fall off. That’s all that matters.
Suddenly, the tent flap is shoved open, making me gasp in surprise as several women come piling inside. Their eyebrows raise as they look at me and the messy tent.
“What happened in here?” the woman with brown hair asks as she glances around at all the dresses.
“And what happened to your hair, Willow?” the woman with black hair asks as she frowns at my appearance.
So they know me then. Or at least, the other version of me. I touch my hair at the side of my head and can feel how knotted and messy it is, making me wince in embarrassment.
The third woman drops down onto a pile of dresses and laughs. “You were serious about not wanting to do this, huh?” she asks as she settles in to watch me.
I nod slowly, unsure what to say.
“I saw your brothers out there,” the brunette says, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “Guess it didn’t work, did it?”
I shake my head as I try to read between the lines. The other Willow clearly wanted to get out of here; she must have told these women as much. Were they her friends? Could I confide in them?
“I... Um… I’m not who you think I am,” I finally tell them.
They frown as the third woman, the other brunette, asks, “What do you mean?”
“The Willow that you know, well, she and I… we, uh… sort of switched places,” I tell them before biting my lip nervously.
They stare at me in confusion for five seconds before they all burst out laughing.
“Good one, Willow,” the black-haired woman says with a laugh. “But it won’t get you out of the hunt. You already signed the forms.”
“What is it?” I ask, desperate to know what I’m about to be thrown into. “The Mating Hunt?”
They look amused as they exchange glances, and it's the brunette who’s lounging on the pile of dresses who finally answers.
“Okay, sure, we’ll play along.” She smirks at the others before she continues.
“The Mating Hunt is a tradition, held once every four years to help women find the strongest, smartest men.”
“For what purpose?” I ask, a knot of dread growing in my gut.
The black-haired woman snorts, shaking her head. “To be her mates, of course.”
Did she say mates, as in plural?
A loud horn sounds in the distance, and the women smile eagerly. “That’s the five-minute warning,” the sitting brunette says. “You sure you don’t want to brush your hair?” she asks me.
But I barely hear her, my mind too caught up in what she just said.
“But how does it work?” I ask, eager to know more. “Is it a contest?”
“Sort of,” the black-haired one answers. “The women… us,” she says, gesturing to the four of us, “are given a head start to run into the woods. The first group of men to find each of us, get to claim us as their mate and their bride.”
My jaw drops open, rendering me speechless. Men are going to hunt us? To wed? How is this any better than the situation I just ran from? Although I suppose the risk of being sacrificed is off the table here. Or at least I hope it is.
I glance at the back of the tent, hoping the doorway back to my world would suddenly appear, but sadly, there’s no way out for me there.
“Oh my God, Larissa! Did you hear that there are men here from Redmere?” the standing brunette suddenly asks the woman on the ground.
“What?!” Larissa jumps to her feet and starts shaking her head. “Claudette, they’re not going to let them compete, are they?” she asks in horror, finally revealing the names of two of the women.
“It sounded like they weren’t here to compete,” the black-haired woman explains.
“Thank goodness,” Claudette says, looking relieved.
The tension in Larissa’s shoulders drops as she lets out a deep exhale. “They were probably denied entrance. Those men aren’t just savages, they’re lonelings too!”
“You know lonelings are allowed to enter the competition,” Claudette tells her with a frown.
“Yes, I know, but could you imagine? Lonelings from Redmere? It’s like getting the worst of the worst!”
“What’s a loneling?” I ask, not recognizing that word.
They all look at me as if I’m stupid before the black-haired woman answers. “They’re not brothers, Willow. They aren’t even related.”
I don’t understand why that matters, but the black-haired speaks again before I can ask. “Claudette, did you see the biggest one?” The other woman nods and they both shiver, as if the mere thought of him disgusts them.
“What’s wrong with them?” I ask, worry filling me.
Claudette’s eyes meet mine as she tells me, “Just be glad they’re not participating in the Mating Hunt.”
“W-why?”
“They’re cannibals,” the black-haired woman whispers as a look of disgust covers all three of their faces.
“They eat people?” I ask in alarm.
Larissa nods her head. “They’re savages! They don’t even wear real clothes.” She turns to Claudette as she asks, “Why are they here? They’ve never left their island before.”
She shrugs in response. “Nobody knows. Maybe they’ve run out of females. They probably need someone to knock up so they don’t go extinct.”
Nausea fills me, and I press a hand to my stomach, not liking the sound of that at all.
“Don’t worry. There are dozens of men competing. We’ll all get claimed in the hunt. I took a peek earlier and there are a few I’m hoping will find me first,” the black-haired woman says with a grin, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“Nicolina, please tell me there’s at least some good-looking men out there?” Larissa asks hopefully. “The men from my town were dreadful, that’s why I’m here.”
“Me too,” Claudette adds. “My town had really slim pickings since it was so small.”
Another horn chimes, and the women smile with excitement as they move to the exit.
“Come on, Willow,” Larissa says, gesturing for me to join them.
I want to run. I want to find the door back to my world so I don’t have to participate in this. But remembering what and who I’m already running from has me silently following Larissa out of the tent.
Maybe if I can hide well enough, none of the men will find me, and I’ll get to go free? When we step out of the tent, those two men, my brothers, are standing there, along with a third man, and they all narrow their eyes on me.
I guess they are here to make sure I don’t run. I take a few quick steps to catch up to Larissa and whisper, “Larissa?”
“Hmm?” she asks, her eyes turning to me in question.
“Why do my brothers care so much about me participating?”
She glances over our shoulders at my three brothers walking behind us, then lowers her voice more. “Your family was given a lot of money for you to enter the hunt. They’re here to make sure you go through with it.”
So the other Willow’s family basically sold her to this Mating Hunt? No wonder she was so upset. “Why would she do it?” I ask, and Larissa frowns at me. “The other Willow. Why would she sign up for this if she didn’t want to do it?”
She clearly still does not believe I’m a different person, but chooses to answer anyway.
“Willow said her parents basically forced her to do it. They told her they had no money and would be living on the streets if she didn't do this for their family. She came from an extremely poor area where the few prospects had no way to support her or her family.” She takes in my worried expression and places her hand on mine, giving it a squeeze before she adds, “You’re doing a good thing. Your family will never be homeless now.”
She gives me a strained smile and releases my hand, then moves ahead of me as we continue walking through the tents in a single-file line.
I understand why the other Willow signed up now. She felt as if she had no choice. If marrying Paul would have guaranteed Isabella a better life, I would have done it.
Up ahead, I see the lack of tents and a large clearing in the trees. What sounds like hundreds of rough male voices reaches my ears. A sense of panic rolls through me, and as soon as I pass the next tent, I’m unable to stop myself from running.
I dart to my right between two tents and hear my so-called brothers swear as their footsteps pound behind me. I wish I had shoes on right now. I should have thought to look when I was in the tent. Pain shoots through my body, but I try to ignore it as I make my way through the tents.
I turn left, then right, weaving through the tents as I try to lose them. When I make the next left turn, I see I’ve somehow ended up behind the large group of men in the clearing. I stop so suddenly that I fall to my knees, hissing out in pain as they connect with the forest floor.
My entire body aches as I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath.
The men at the back of the group hear me and turn around to see what’s going on.
I glance up from where I’m still on the ground and see the looks of shock on their faces when they take me in.
Some of their noses wrinkle in distaste, probably from my disheveled appearance, and it makes me hang my head in shame.
Unsure what to do, I stare at the ground as my fingers dig into the dirt beneath me. My instinct to run has vanished, and in its place is the need to become invisible. My body decides that by staying still, they’ll all turn around and forget I’m here.
“Move,” a rough voice grunts out, and I glance up to see a few of the men being pushed aside by someone coming up behind them. The tip of a spear points upward and moves through the crowd, toward me.
I see the tops of three men’s heads come into view, clearly taller than all the other men around them. The men at the front, still looking at me with disgust, are suddenly shoved aside as the three biggest men I’ve ever seen step in front of the others.
They stop moving as we stare at each other.
They aren’t wearing shirts, just straps of leather across their chests that hold up primitive weapons and satchels on their backs and sides.
They have some sort of elaborate loincloth or wrapping around their hips, covering their privates, but most of their thighs are bare as well.
Primitive leather sandals wrap around their calves, and as my eyes make their way to the men’s faces, something inside me lurches forward, causing my fingers to dig into the dirt even more.
The first man, the one with the spear, has long, brown hair, tied back at the top of his head and shaved on one side.
A full beard covers his face, and his piercing hazel eyes are honed in on me.
He’s the smallest of the three, but that doesn’t say much, as he still towers over every other man here.
The blonde man beside him looks like a Viking with braids covering his head, a full, short beard, and two giant swords strapped to his back. His blue eyes are looking at me with an emotion I don’t know how to read.
The third man is the biggest, with shoulder-length black hair, a full beard covering his face, and an ax strapped to his back. His hands clench into fists as I stare at him. Looking back at his face, his green eyes burrow into mine and he takes a step toward me.
“Willow!” I snap my head around to see my brothers running up behind me. “Are you crazy? Come on,” one of them says as he grabs my upper arm and yanks me to my feet.
“Ow!” I cry out when he squeezes a bruise too hard.
“Let go of her!” the black-haired Viking behind me yells in anger, his deep voice rolling through me in a way I've never felt before. When I glance his way, he steps toward us, his eyes on my brother.
My brother shoves me behind him and puffs out his chest at the stranger. “You touch my sister, or me, and I’ll have you arrested.”
The man pauses, his eyes moving past my brother to look down at me as I rub my arm. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”
My eyebrows raise in shock. Did he just offer to kill my brother for me?
Said brother looks at me over his shoulder with a look of trepidation. I don’t want his death on my hands, so I shake my head as I glance back at the Viking.
A gong sounds behind them, and my brother, behind me, curses. “Shit, Willow, you’re late! Come on.” He grabs my hand and drags me behind him, away from the group of men.
I glance over my shoulder, and just before I’m pulled out of view, the Viking’s green eyes bore into me, and he gives me a single nod of his head and beats his fist against his chest.
I have no idea what that means, but as my brother drags me back through the tents to the clear path the other women took, I think about how different those three men looked to everyone else. Then Larissa’s warning about the cannibals from Redmere replays in my mind.
Oh my goodness, that was them! The Vikings are the cannibals!