2. CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
Katell
Y ou must learn to act like a wife.
Katell stood by the sheep pens, Elder Yorn’s words hammering inside her head. Close by, a few men tended to their flock, too busy to notice the burning sun crest over the distant hill and cast a fiery glow across the steppe.
Today, Katell would finally meet her future husband during the pre-marriage ceremony and apply everything she’d learned during her lessons with Elder Yorn. Then, come nightfall, if the suitors and elders had successfully agreed upon a price, eight girls from Camp Bessi would be clad in their wedding attires and married off.
Her hands tightened around the wooden plank of the fence, which groaned under the pressure of her grip. Katell was opposed to the whole affair, but despite her protests, the elders had been adamant. As the daughter of a councilman, she had to set an example and wed outside the camp. Any refusal could spell trouble for her family. Alena might even be matched with a suitor earlier. So, Katell had relented. At least the wedding came with gifts from her husband, which should support her family through the harsh winters.
Leaning against the sturdy wooden fence, she stretched her back. The strain of her muscles eased, and she exhaled a long breath, the sound of bleating sheep surrounding her like a soothing melody. On any other morning, she’d be venturing out on her horse across the sweeping steppe. Instead, she needed to get dressed and then head to the central square, yet her feet wouldn’t move.
You must learn to act like a wife.
Well-mannered, quiet, obedient.
Somehow, she would need to convince her future husband that she had all the qualities of a housewife.
“I knew you’d be here.” Leywani’s voice filtered through the chorus of bleating sheep, her soft footsteps treading along the well-worn dirt path. “You always come to the pens when you’re troubled.”
Katell glanced over her shoulder and smiled at her friend, who joined her at the fence. From Leywani’s dishevelled appearance, it seemed she’d rushed out of her tent to find her.
“I was afraid I’d miss you before the meetings began,” Leywani explained, straightening her thread-bare tunic and cinching her belt. She then rested her head on Katell’s shoulder, and the two girls watched the sunrise paint the wild grasses with hues of red and gold. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“I know. I hate this,” Katell admitted with a heavy heart. “I never imagined leaving Camp Bessi. I always thought…” She trailed off, unable to voice her deepest desires.
“That you’d become a huntress? Perhaps marry Scylas?”
Katell’s silence confirmed Leywani’s astute guess, though she and Scylas hadn’t discussed their changed circumstances after the first suitor’s arrival. Each one of their conversations since had been fraught with tension.
They might have shared a kiss, but Scylas had never expressed his feelings for her, let alone mentioned marriage. And even if there had been an agreement between them, the elders would never have allowed it.
After a moment, Leywani pulled away, posing the question Katell had been avoiding asking herself. “Kat, are you sure you can do this?”
A sound escaped Katell’s lips, something caught between anger and sorrow, encapsulating the emotions stirring within her. “No. But as Elder Ignatius kindly reminded me, all the other daughters of councilmen have dutifully married. Only Alena and I are left, and if I don’t follow tradition, I’m afraid they’ll go after Alena instead.”
“Elder Ignatius is a cold-hearted snake,” Leywani said viciously.
Katell hummed in agreement. She’d often wondered how Scylas had grown into such a caring and steadfast friend given his grandfather’s ruthless nature.
They both fell silent again, entranced by the tender sight of the spring-born lambs nursing from their mothers within the pens.
“Father heard my intended husband is from a camp farther east, not Camp Lukim,” Katell finally admitted.
Leywani blew out a long breath. “By the Moon… Have you told Alena yet?”
She linked arms with her in a comforting gesture and a sudden tightness formed in Katell’s gut. She shook her head. Her sister would be devastated once she found out. Hopefully, Alena and their father could visit before winter, otherwise they might not meet again until the following year.
“We always knew this day would come,” Leywani continued, staring ahead. Already, her braid was becoming undone, strands of dark hair falling across her face. She must have been desperate to see Katell before she left for the ceremony, and the thought warmed Katell’s heart. “But I’d always hoped it wouldn’t come so soon. That we’d have more time together.”
“Maybe next year when it’s your turn, you’ll end up in a camp close to me.”
They both knew there was little chance of it happening and fell silent again. Katell clutched her friend’s thin arm, grateful they had this final moment together. Leywani had been a constant in Katell’s life, a friend who knew her better than anyone else, and imagining life without her left a hollow pit in Katell’s stomach.
“Will you take care of them for me?” Katell asked, her voice a soft whisper. “Once I’m married off, could you look after Alena? I worry about her interest in the Old Lands and their gods. If the elders find out that she reads any scroll she can get her hands on, or if she starts asking the wrong questions—”
Leywani met her gaze with a watery smile. The morning breeze blew strands of dark glossy hair across her face. “I’ll watch out for her. I promise you, Kat. And when it’s my turn next year to marry, I’m sure Scylas will take care of your family then.”
Katell nodded, unable to say another word past the lump forming in her throat. At her side, Leywani sniffled softly and hummed a Freefolk song from the Moon festival—Katell’s favourite.
Arm in arm, they watched the sunrise until it bathed them in shades of red.
“It’s time.” Damocles, their father, reached for his boots by the entrance of their home. He’d dressed in his finest fur-trimmed blue tunic and had tidied up his beard for the occasion, revealing the thin white scar etched along his jawline, a remnant from his past. The scar bore the resemblance of a sword injury, but who could have attacked her father? He’d never been in a fight, as far as Katell knew.
Deep furrows marking his brow, he yanked the tent flaps aside, ready to depart. When Katell remained rooted to the spot, he turned to her in surprise, and his expression softened. Leaving the flaps to drop once more, he reached out to hold her shoulders. “Are you ready?”
Katell’s words got stuck in her throat. Alena, hovering beside them, clutched the folds of her skirt with white-knuckled hands and gave her a wan smile.
Katell answered with a reassuring nod and reminded herself of the events to come. She would spend the rest of the day getting to know her future husband under the elders’ watchful eye and then the wedding ceremony would take place at sunset, followed by a spectacular feast. Depending on her husband’s mood, she’d have a day or two after that to pack her belongings and say goodbye to her family before departing for her new home.
But she couldn’t think about leaving her friends and family behind yet. For now, she needed to focus on the meeting.
“You look beautiful, I’m so proud of you.” Her father drew her close against his broad chest. “We still have a few days together,” he murmured in her ear, “and before you leave, I’d like us to talk. There are some things that I need to tell you.”
Katell’s cheeks warmed. Surely her father wasn’t going to go over what happened between a wife and her husband? Leywani’s mother had once explained to both her daughter and Katell the duties expected of a wife in bed and Leywani had taken great pleasure since then recounting all the details she’d wheedled out of the married women at camp.
Her father pulled away from the embrace and held the tent flap open for her. “Come. Let us not be late.”
Katell turned to her sister and the delicate beads of her bridal dress tinkled with every movement. “I’ll see you at the feast tonight, little star.”
She pressed a tender kiss on Alena’s forehead, and her sister stared back at her with wide eyes, her face unusually pale in the morning light.
Alena squeezed Katell’s hand in her cold one. “Good luck.”
With a final nod, Katell left and took hold of her father’s arm. They walked in silence as he guided her through the maze of tents towards the elder’s pavilion. The small crowd of brides and their families came into view, and her pulse quickened. Each bride waited for an elder to usher them into a tent, while some of the councilmen stood to one side, overseeing the proceedings.
Elder Ignatius approached, his tall frame casting a shadow over them. His long white hair had been meticulously braided for the occasion. “Councilman Damocles. Katell. This way, please.”
Her father lowered his head in respect while Katell remained impassive. Ignatius’ voice was neither soft nor kind, and his face was perpetually set into a stern frown as if he disapproved of everyone and everything around him.
They followed him to one of the smaller tents where Elder Moskon, a stout old man with a warm smile, greeted them. “Your suitor is waiting.”
Her father clasped her shoulder and squeezed before stepping back. Taking a deep breath, Katell hiked her dress up—enough so she could walk without tripping on the beaded fabric— and ducked through the flaps.
Inside, the tent was dimly lit. A dozen candles were scattered on a low ceremonial table, which also held a tea set and a delicious spread of cakes.
In the centre, a modest fire crackled within a ring of arranged stones. Her intended husband, a burly man with dark features and a crooked nose, sat perched on his knees next to it. When she approached, his beefy hands, clasping his leather-clad thighs, flexed with tension.
He neither spoke nor acknowledged her as she sat across from him. Only the soft rustle of her dress and Elder Moskon’s robes filled the stifling silence. The old man settled down by the entrance to supervise the meeting.
“About time,” her suitor uttered, his voice deep and gruff. “Get on with it.”
Katell’s attention turned to the tea set laid out on the table and her heart raced. Elder Yorn’s teachings became a jumbled mess in her mind. Weren’t they supposed to exchange names first and make small talk before she made tea?
Perhaps her groom hadn’t been informed.
She raised her gaze to look upon the man who would become her husband and offer him some guidance, but was met with the cold, predatory stare of a hunter.
Her stomach dropped.
Her suitor wasn’t ignorant. From the hard expression on his face, she could tell that he simply couldn’t care less about traditions and ceremonies.
“What are you waiting for?” One of his fists clenched, imbuing his words with an underlying threat. She narrowed her eyes. Her intended husband expected obedience and if she didn’t comply, there would be consequences.
Unsure what to make of the situation, Katell nodded, then shifted a few inches towards the low table. She cast a subtle glance at Elder Moskon. The old man didn’t seem concerned in the slightest and gave her a reassuring smile.
You must learn to act like a wife.
Exhaling a breath, she grasped the teapot and began preparing the leaves as she’d been taught. Her palms were unusually clammy and sweat beaded down her back. The dim candlelight, supposed to create an intimate atmosphere, became suffocating.
Her mind whirled. The elders must have made a mistake. Her suitor should be attentive to her during the ceremony. Make conversation with her and offer her gifts… Yes, the payment had already been agreed upon by the elders, but the meeting was a chance for the groom to prove himself to the bride and soothe her fears before the wedding took place.
The small silver spoon used to stir the leaves hit the sides of the pot with more force than necessary. Drops of hot water spilled across the table and Katell almost let out a curse. She had no patience for tasks that required a delicate touch. Give her a bow and arrow and she would score a dozen rabbits or squirrels within a day, but faced with a pot and cup, she turned into a complete fool.
Her groom remained seated by the fire. His dark eyes, peering out from beneath heavy brows, watched her. Her skin crawled in response. He didn’t say a word or offer her a compliment as she finished making the tea and then plated two round cheesecakes made from goat’s milk. Although they were her favourites, food was the last thing on her mind.
Once she’d served him, her suitor took one sip of the tea and grimaced. “They told me you hunt.”
His words caught her off guard. It wasn’t a question and yet she answered, “Yes.”
“That’s good. We don’t have a large flock out east—not enough pasture.”
Katell nodded, unsure what to say. Camp Bessi relied on their flock of sheep and goats to get through the winter as well as hunting out in the woods past Camp Lukim towards the Deep River. She couldn’t imagine having to survive winter without milk or cheese to supplement the meat.
Without warning, the tent flap was pulled aside and a stream of sunlight flooded the tight space. Relief spread through Katell until Elder Ignatius’ stern face appeared. Ignoring her, he whispered a few words to Elder Moskon, who swiftly got to his feet.
“I’ll be right back.” He left before Katell could stop him.
Her insides grew cold. The elders were supposed to stay put and chaperone the couples. Something must have happened for Elder Moskon to be pulled away. She pushed to her feet, intending to follow him out.
“Sit.” Her suitor’s sharp word sliced through her like a knife. It was a demand, not a request.
Katell stilled. Why had Elder Moskon left them alone? Why had the elders even chosen such a brute for her in the first place?
After a moment’s hesitation, she knelt again and poured herself another cup of tea, desperate to occupy her shaking hands.
“Leave it, and take off your clothes.”
Her hands froze, the words echoing in her mind.
Take off your clothes.
Take off your clothes.
Surely, she’d misheard him.
“Don’t make me wait, girl.” His gruff voice came out forceful and more like a threat than ever. “I paid a fortune to get the prettiest girl with half a brain.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. Is that what had happened? She’d been matched with him because he’d offered more goods? Had he also paid the elders to leave them alone inside the tent, so he could sample what he’d bought?
Katell met his gaze once more. Soulless dark eyes glared back at her, as cold as a winter’s night, without a shred of sympathy or kindness.
Something in her gut urged her to flee from the man. “I’m leaving.”
She stood, and despite his muscular build, he sprang to his feet faster than she’d expected. He snatched her arm. “You will sit back down and do as I say.”
Panic rose within her, but she refused to give in to it. “Let me go or you’ll regret it.” She tugged her arm, but his grip was too strong.
His lips curled back into a sneer. “I see you have some fire in you. You’ll need it where we’re going.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She tugged again, her beaded dress rattling with urgency, but he didn’t budge.
“Keep fighting me and you’ll find out my patience runs thin, girl.” He lifted his huge hand to her face and trailed a finger down her cheek. “I always liked breaking pretty things.”
Katell’s temper flared, hot and violent. The elders, driven by their greed, had clearly lost their minds if they saw fit to offer her as a bride to such a man. She’d rather face their wrath than be married to him.
She batted her suitor’s hand away then leaned forward, twisting her arm out of his grip. In the next moment, she kicked him as hard as she could in the shin, like her father had taught her.
The man howled, his dark features twisted in pain, and he released his hold. She hurried away, her pulse racing in her ears.
Once outside, the sudden sunlight flooding the camp brought her instant relief and comfort after the smothering darkness of the tent. Heart hammering inside her chest, she grappled with the folds of her dress but pressed forward, putting more distance between the brute and herself. Her ankle-length dress impeded her movements, the heavy fabric ensnaring her legs, and she had half a mind to tear it off altogether. Peeking over her shoulder to make sure her suitor wasn’t following her, she bumped straight into her father.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, his features a mask of alarm. “Katell, what are you doing out here?”
The urgency in his voice pierced through the chaos of her thoughts, yet she struggled to find the right words. The anger that had surged within her so quickly in the tent was gone. Instead, her breath came in short bursts, and tears stung the backs of her eyes. Although she tried to hide them, her father’s stricken face told her he’d seen them.
He glanced between her and the tent she’d escaped from, then steered her away towards the elders’ pavilion where a crowd of families, councilmen and elders remained gathered.
“Tell me what happened.” Her father’s broad frame shielded her from the dozens of pairs of eyes that turned her way.
She swallowed hard. “Elder Moskon left me alone, and—”
His brow shot up. “He what?!”
Before she could explain, her suitor came charging out of the tent, a murderous look on his face. “That girl attacked me!”
Gasps echoed through the gathered crowd, and disapproving stares shifted towards Katell. Given her reputation as a fighter, they readily believed her suitor’s accusation.
He made a beeline for the elders. “I come here as a guest, pay you with the finest furs of my camp, and this is how I’m rewarded?”
At once, Demetrius and Scylas’ father went to appease him, but Damocles remained at her side. Running a hand through his hair, he watched her with a slight furrow in his brow. “Kat, is it true? Did you attack him?”
His words held a subtle hint of disapproval, and Katell’s throat ran dry. She felt like a child again, being scolded for her violent tendencies.
“No.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “He asked me to take off my clothes, and when I refused, he grabbed me.”
Her father’s face darkened at once.
Inevitably drawn by the commotion, Elder Ignatius stormed out of the pavilion entrance, his features taut with displeasure. “What is the meaning of this?”
He took one look around and hurried towards her suitor, who was in a heated discussion with Demetrius.
“Kat!” a voice called out behind her.
She turned to find Scylas’s tall frame approaching, his sandy-coloured hair tousled from the wind, suggesting he had just returned from a ride. A wave of relief swept through her at the sight of him. “Are you all right? What happened?”
His keen eyes roved over her, lingering on her hands clenching the beaded folds of her dress. He moved closer, as if to hold them, but halted upon noticing his father nearby.
“Scylas, could you please take Kat home?” Damocles asked, his hard gaze fixed on her intended groom. “I need to have a word with the elders.”
“Of course.” Scylas wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a reassuring strength that soothed her nerves.
Still, Katell hesitated to leave. If her suitor was angry with her, it could cause trouble for not only her but her family as well. The elders could punish them for it, or even come after Alena…
Her heart lurched. “Father—”
“Go.” Damocles tilted his head. “I’ll take care of it. You won’t be seeing that man again, not if I have anything to say about it.”
He marched off, and she let Scylas lead her away from the crowd, ignoring the scathing looks. She might have broken the Freefolk rule of treating guests with respect and dignity, but her suitor had deserved it. She hoped the elders would recognise him as the brute he’d proved to be, undeserving of a bride, but if he’d truly arrived bearing numerous valuable gifts, they might hesitate to turn him away.
Discernible worry touched Scylas’ face. “What happened?”
She shook her head, too shaken to give him an answer. Only the soft rustle of her dress accompanied their hurried pace through the camp.
When they reached her home and slipped through the flaps, Alena was cooking by the fire. She shot to her feet, not expecting their sudden arrival. With one glance at Katell, she signalled Scylas to sit her down on the bed and wrapped a shawl around Katell’s shoulders before giving them some privacy.
They sat side by side in silence, at first. Enveloped by the familiar comforting scents of her home, Katell soon found her troubled thoughts appeased.
After a moment, Scylas laid his hand over hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “I’ve been ignoring you and I shouldn’t have done that.”
She took comfort from the way his thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. “I understand. With my upcoming wedding, it was easier to keep our distance.”
For days, she’d buried her emotions, focusing on the remaining time with her family instead. However, she couldn’t keep lying to herself. The memory of their shared kiss lingered in her thoughts, especially in the quiet of the night.
Scylas’ fingers touched the side of her face, drawing her to him. When she met his golden brown eyes, the raw vulnerability within them made her pulse quicken.
“I didn’t know how to say goodbye,” he murmured.
Her heart stuttered. “Perhaps you won’t have to.”
Without warning, Alena returned and halted at their intimate proximity, her face flushing as red as her hair.
Scylas pulled away, clearing his throat. “I’d better go. Father will be waiting for me. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Katell gave him a small smile. “Could you find Ley for me?”
He nodded and squeezed her hand in reassurance before leaving.
Alena turned to her with big, green eyes, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. “Octavia saw the suitors and said yours scared her.”
Remembering the awful encounter, Katell’s chest tightened. “He scared me, too.”
Sniffling, Alena sank onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace.
“I’m fine, little star.” But Katell’s voice shook, and her hands trembled once more in her lap. “Father—Father will take care of it.”
Scylas never came back, but since he’d been in charge of the feast preparations with the other men of the camp, Katell wasn’t surprised. When their father eventually returned in the evening, Alena was already fast asleep. Muffled sounds of revelry and music from the central square filtered through the air.
Katell greeted her father and took his stitched hemp cloak from his hands. “Am I in trouble?”
Although he looked exhausted and burdened by the day’s events, he still smiled at her and cupped her cheek. Her father’s hand was warm and comforting, nothing like that of her suitor.
“No,” he said at last, tucking a few rebel strands of hair back into her braid. “The elders tried to insist, but the man rejected you and I never would have let a brute such as him have my daughter. I don’t know what the elders were thinking. They’re not happy with us and camp gossip will follow you for some time, but at least the marriage was called off.”
Relief flooded Katell’s veins. Stars be praised! She’d had half a mind to grab Alena and run away as she’d suggested if the elders had insisted that the marriage go forth.
“What about the suitor?”
Her father went to sit by the fire and picked up the bowl of soup Katell had left out for him with some bread. “He was a vile man, hurling insults around, but Elder Ignatius managed to appease his anger.”
She scowled. “How?”
If anyone could negotiate with a heartless brute, it was Elder Ignatius, but she didn’t trust Scylas’ grandfather one bit. She was sure he would have forced her to marry the suitor if the man hadn’t already rejected her.
“Apparently, they found him another bride. Demetrius told me during the feast.” Her father swallowed a few spoonfuls of soup and exhaled a breath. “Poor girl.”
Katell sank to the rug before the fire and hugged her knees to her chest. She’d never thought refusing her suitor would condemn another girl to be married to him. The man’s gifts must have been enough to entice one of the other families of Camp Bessi—no doubt one of the poorer ones.
“Do you know who it is?”
Damocles shook his head. “No. We’ll find out tomorrow, I suppose.” When his eyes met hers, he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Don’t worry yourself about it now. What’s done is done. Go to sleep and whatever happens, we’ll handle it in the morning.”
Katell did as she was told and slipped under the furs beside her sister with a heavy feeling in her heart. Though she might not have been familiar with all the girls of Camp Bessi, guilt racked her mind. Her selfishness had cost another girl’s happiness.
The next morning, it was Scylas who broke the news to them.
Katell was outside the tent, having just trekked back from the stream with two buckets of water when Scylas’ sandy-coloured mop of hair appeared.
“Kat!”
The panic in his voice jolted her. She swirled towards him, wiping her wet hands on her riding leathers.
Alena and their father, no doubt alerted by the shout, emerged from their tent.
“Scylas, what’s wr—?”
“Come quickly!” The anguish etched across his face held a gravity she’d never witnessed before. “It’s Ley.”
A sense of foreboding swept through Katell, sending a chill down her spine. “What do you mean?”
In a single, rushed breath, Scylas said, “Her parents agreed to your suitor’s proposal and the elders married them yesterday. She’s at the main square now, saying her goodbyes.”
Katell stared at him, her mind struggling to grasp the weight of his words. Then, they hit her all at once, dropping into her stomach and filling her with a horrid, sinking sensation.
“If you want to see her, we need to go. Now!” Scylas grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.
Behind her, her father cursed under his breath. “Alena, stay in the tent.”
And suddenly, Katell was running. One moment, she was following Scylas through the maze of tents, and the next, she overtook him, her lungs and legs burning until she spotted the elders’ pavilion ahead. She stopped short at the crowd assembled before the tallest tent in the camp.
Soft cries resonated through the quiet morning air. The departure of newlyweds was usually a joyous occasion filled with singing and a final exchange of gifts such as honey or salted meat, but the gathered families remained solemn.
Katell’s suitor, the brute, was securing a chest to his cart with Leywani’s father’s help. Leywani stood apart with her mother and Elder Yorn, the kind woman who’d taught Katell everything she’d needed to know about the pre-marriage ceremony.
Katell elbowed her way through the crowd. “Ley!”
When she finally caught sight of her friend, a gasp escaped her lips.
“You shouldn’t be here, child,” Elder Yorn said in hushed tones, trying to usher Katell away. “It is disrespectful to our guest for you to show your face again.”
Elder Yorn’s worried expression faded to the background as Katell focused on the myriad of bruises tainting Leywani’s otherwise smooth brown skin.
“Kat,” Leywani whispered.
She donned a beaded dress that Katell had never seen before, paired with a cloak trimmed with thick rabbit fur that was undoubtedly a gift from her new husband. The intricate braiding of her beautiful dark hair hinted at her recent wedding, yet Katell’s gaze remained fixed on the single tear slipping down Leywani’s swollen cheek.
“Ley… By the Moon, what happened?”
Leywani cast a fearful glance at her husband. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have…” Her voice shook. “I shouldn’t have fought back.”
I always liked breaking pretty things.
Katell’s heart stopped, and the next thing she knew, her arms were around Leywani’s lithe frame, embracing her tight, as if to shield her from further harm. Leywani’s wince of pain didn’t escape her notice.
“Ley…” It was all Katell’s fault, yet she couldn’t find the words to even begin to say sorry.
“It’s for the best,” Leywani whispered against her ear. “The pile of furs and other gifts are enough to feed my parents for months to come, and we both know you were always meant to be more than a wife.”
Katell shook her head. Tears burned the back of her throat. “No, you can’t leave with that man.”
“He’s my husband now.” Despite Leywani’s attempt to mask her emotions, her chin trembled.
Her mother stepped in, her face gaunt as she put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Leywani, it’s time. He is waiting for you.”
“No!” Katell reached for her friend, but a firm grip stopped her.
“Kat, it’s too late.” Damocles pulled her back. From the sweat on his brow, he must have hurried after her. “She’s married now.”
Behind him, most of those gathered stared back at her with anger and grief in their eyes.
Katell couldn’t even blame them. Leywani was beloved by all. She couldn’t leave. And certainly not with him .
So why wasn’t anyone else speaking up?
It was wrong—all wrong.
Leywani liked to sing and dance. She laughed more than anyone and loved to joke around. She couldn’t leave with a man who would stomp it all out of her. She couldn’t leave to the Moon knew where and never return.
But Katell was powerless to stop it, and her father’s grip was unrelenting.
Katell locked eyes with Leywani, and the sharp ache in her chest deepened at the sight of her friend’s tear-strewn, battered face.
Don’t do this. Don’t go.
But the words were lodged in Katell’s throat, escaping only as a guttural cry. “Ley!”
Hesitation flickered across Leywani’s face until her husband strode towards her. “It’s time to go, wife.” He grabbed her by the arm, barely giving her time to say goodbye to her own mother. When his cold eyes met Katell’s in the crowd, he smirked and wrenched Leywani against him.
A dark tide of violence surged within Katell. “Ley!”
“Kat, stop!” Her father held her by the waist, his grip unyielding. “Don’t make it worse than it has to be. You have to let her go now.”
Leywani hopped onto the back of the cart, her head bent down.
Katell hurled herself forward. “No, take me!” Her anguished scream filled the air. “I’ll go in her place! Ley! LEY! ”
Her words vanished into the heavy silence that engulfed the crowd. Leywani didn’t look up and her husband didn’t stop as he sat at the front of the cart and grabbed the reins.
The newly married couple set off, fading from sight through the rows of tents as they headed east. With a strangled sob, Katell sank to her knees, vaguely aware of her father’s comforting whispers behind her.
But nothing— nothing —he said could ever make it right again.
Leywani was gone.
She was gone .
“Kat!”
Alena’s voice caught her attention. A moment later, the crowd of onlookers parted, revealing Alena and the raw pain etched on her sister’s face shattered something deep with Katell. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and she clutched at her mouth, failing to suppress her rising sobs.
Alena flung herself at her, embracing her tight, and Katell clung to her with equal fervour. While Damocles watched over them, a single thought ran through Katell’s head on repeat.
The elders and the Freefolk be damned, she would never let anyone take Alena away like they’d taken Leywani.
She would find a way to stay in Camp Bessi and protect her.
Always.
Alena and Katell’s story continues in WHEN GODS FALL, available now: https://books2read.com/u/bW6OVz
When a fateful event leaves them with no other choice but to leave Camp Bessi, Alena and Katell are thrust into the Old Lands and all the dangers they represent. Will the journey bring the sisters together, or tear them apart?