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“I’m sure.” That penetrative gaze shifted to her, and Arianna curled in on herself. “You were instructed to bring them back alive.”

The other male, who carried a deep scar above his upper lip, spit blood from his mouth. “There’s a few.”

“There are five,” the dark-skinned male roared. “What are we supposed to accomplish with five? Perhaps you’d like to explain to our general why you slaughtered dozens of perfectly good slaves.”

The other male’s face paled, but he gritted his teeth. “It’s not like he’d care. Maybe he should think twice before keeping us cooped up in that camp of his. I was trained for war, not guarding a damned post.”

The new male tilted his head and smirked. “Very well. I’ll arrange a meeting. You can directly voice your displeasure with him.” He sheathed his sword and turned to face her fully.

The male with the scar, now visibly shaking, stepped forward. “W-Wait, there’s no need for all that.”

He didn’t look away from Arianna. “No?”

“Of course not.” The male let out a nervous laugh. “The blood was just getting to my head. That’s all.”

“I see.” He turned from her, and Arianna released her breath. “In that case, I expect you to get this,” he paused to consider, “group back to camp. You’ll then scout for another caravan, and if you fail, you’ll personally be explaining our lack in labor.” Those dark eyes locked onto her again. “And double-check their shackles.”

The male scoffed. “They’re just half-breeds.”

“That line of thinking is exactly why you’re stationed at a post. We don’t underestimate our enemies. Slaves included.”

The male gave her a final look, then stalked off, leaving the five slaves to stare after him and his company. Brónach warriors surrounded them, but something in her wanted to reach out.Come back,she wanted to beg, but he was from Brónach and no one from Brónach would ever help a slave.

ARIANNA DIDN’T struggle when they connected her chain to the four remaining slaves, then fastened one end to a wagon full of supplies. She watched the male who’d previously bitten the youngest female caress the muzzle of a horse.

So barbaric and yet so caring. Did he have a lover back in Brónach or children to protect? Didn’t he understand half-breeds and humans possessed the same things?

The wagon lurched forward, and that same male turned his dark, hateful gaze upon them. She supposed not.

Arianna fought to keep her eyes forward as she passed the dozens of bodies on the ground. It seemed as though the eyes of the dead followed her, their ghosts envious of her every breath. She couldn’t explain how she’d survived. Again. Maybe it was instinct, or the years of training Talon had instilled in her. Or maybe she was just cursed to continue living while everyone around her perished.

A whip snapped and Arianna straightened, her head twisting around to locate the source. No one cried out, thankfully, but the male holding the contraption was the same who’d glared earlier. He gave them all a wicked smile, the scar at the corner of his mouth curling with the movement.

Brónach. She never imagined she’d find herself at their mercy. Or what little mercy they carried. Nor did she think she’d ever find herself this far from home.

Arianna tilted her head toward the heavens and let the icy rain beat upon her face. What had led to so much destruction and chaos? What was worth a decade of stolen lives?

Her gaze settled upon the snow-capped mountains in the distance, then traveled over the pass that led into enemy territory. She shuddered, and the whip snapped again, this time hitting the female to their front. She cried out and the back of her shirt split open, revealing a line of red across her already marred flesh.

Arianna knew now. Knew that no matter how much she hoped, no matter how much she hit her knees in prayer, she’d never see home again.

Chapter Two

Arianna

The slavers pushed them for three days with little rest and no food. The rain never let up and their captors didn’t seem to care what happened to those who trudged behind the wagon full of stolen goods.

They’d split off from the primary group, leaving three males to provide escort while the rest likely scouted for other slavers.

Night after night the males built themselves a shelter, erecting a canopy made of worn leather and wooden posts that kept them dry while the slaves suffered. Arianna would have given anything to warm herself by their small fire, to taste the stale bread they’d stolen from her previous owners, or to wrap herself in their warm furs and chase away the icy chill in her bones.

But she wouldn’t get that here.

Her gaze drifted to the other slaves, and a familiar ache pressed against her chest again. She was the oldest of the lot. They were practically children, likely kidnapped and traded without remorse from those who thought they were of higher status because of the blood in their veins.

Tears pricked her eyes as she took in their dismal, defeated expressions. How long had they gone without happiness? How long had they suffered?

Compared to them, Arianna had everything. She knew her little sister was safely tucked away at the royal estate and that her father would keep leading their people as he’d done for centuries. She knew those she treasured most slept in warm beds with full stomachs and clean clothes.