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Lodan walked into the camp for dinner. Night settled heavily with no moon to add any light, but the rain had cleared, leaving a cool breeze in its wake. A few of his other top commanders, including Thoas and Caspian, sat at the same table with Xander, reporting on the day’s activities.

A small stage squatted near the largest fire, dining tables ringed tightly around it. A couple of empty wine casks filled with cut branches added some decoration. Definitely an Omega touch. Earlier, he told Jason to put out more wine than normal, and a relaxed mood filled the space. It almost felt like he was back in Myrdinia at one of the harvest feasts.

He took the empty seat at Xander’s table.

“Any change with Greta?” Xander asked.

He shook his head.

Xander gave him a long look. “Have you decided how long we’ll camp here?”

“The scouts reported the Sardi reached the edge of the Dorian woods yesterday. At this point, if the Dorian choose to take a meeting with them, we can’t stop it.” He could have taken a smaller band of men and ridden hard, most likely reaching the Dorians first. However, the Sardi hadn’t stopped in Argos on their way to the mountains, which meant he had a chance to get to Argos first and prevent them from rallying to the Sardi side. He’d chosen to aim for Argos because Argos had always worked closely with the Sardi, and it was much more likely the Argosians would join the king, than the Dorians. Hopefully, the Dorians would remain neutral and ignore the king’s pleas. “We’re certain the king bypassed Argos?”

Caspian nodded. “They didn’t stop in the city, but they did camp nearby, so allies in Argos could have visited them. Most likely they received provisions. Maybe arms.”

Lodan nodded. It seemed like the Argosians weren’t going to rally to the king’s banner right away, but it could be they didn’t want to reveal where their loyalties lay yet. The Argosians always worked hand in hand with the Sardi, but they were also known to be opportunistic. Most likely, they were waiting to see which way Anatolia would finally fall, then they’d burst forward, pretending to be loyal followers.

The Argos people were slippery like snakes and had earned the nickname the asp people. “We’ll stay here another day, then we go to Argos. We can get supplies and have a little chat with their leader.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’d like to see how he acts when he must receive me.”

Xander’s lips turned downward a fraction, indicating his displeasure, but he didn’t say anything. Lodan knew Xander wanted to continue to pursue the Sardi, feeling any delay was another day where they might bring Dorian warriors to their cause.

Lodan didn’t need to explain himself further but added, “We’ve lost the race to get to the Dorians first. If Argos refuses to help the king, then the Dorians are the king’s last chance, and they’ve never been friendly to any in the lower peninsula. He’s desperate, and he’s scrambling. We make sure Argos is cut off, and then we don’t have to fight on two fronts. We can focus completely on the north.” He reached and took the wineglass in front of him. “A few weeks and the war is ours.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Caspian said, raising his glass.

They all took a deep drink from their wine.

Thoas leaned forward. “Is it true the Sardi sees the future?”

Lodan glared at Xander—the only person he’d told about Kassandra seeing the battle in the woods. “Who mentioned that?”

Thoas shrugged. “It’s all over camp that you came to the woods because the Sardi told you we were in danger.”

He held Xander’s gaze. “All over camp.”

Xander leaned back and rubbed his mouth. “Eh … it got winkled out of me.” His gaze swept past Lodan to where Cian stood talking to the female Omega by the stage.

What had she said her name was? Bristle? “Really?”

“I was stuck. It was the first thing that popped into my head to talk about. You know, not war related.”

“Not the weather? Or horses? Or maybe how you make swords in your spare time? None of these things came up?”

Xander rubbed his face. “Not so much, no.”

“It’s true then? She saved us.”

He didn’t like the way Thoas looked when he spoke of Kassandra. He certainly didn’t seem to mind that she saw the future.

He glowered at him, and Thoas scrambled off his seat. He snatched his glass, wine sloshing over the rim. “I’m getting low, better trot off and nab some more.” Giving Lodan a brief nod, he left.

The cook’s assistant brought them more wine and Lodan took a long drink. The slight scent of orange blossom drifted over him, and he turned, searching the camp. But he already knew what that scent meant.

Kassandra was here.

On the other side of the eating area, she stood with her two guards flanking her. The entire camp seemed to draw breath, the din quieting momentarily, and heads turning her way.

Without realizing what he was doing, he strode toward her.

Her hair had slipped from the bundle she’d put it in at the back of her head, and a few strands framed her face. She crossed her arms, and her gaze flicked past him over the camp where most of the warriors gathered for dinner. Her eyes widened. Shifting her weight, she wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, as if trying to make herself smaller, and she sidled sideways a step, putting him between her and the view of the men sitting at their tables.

With a nod, he dismissed her guards.

“I came to tell you Greta woke up. It was only for a moment, but she drank a little water, and she knew who I was. That’s promising. I thought you’d like to know.”

“Good.” That was welcome news. He took a step closer to her, leaving them only inches apart. A small charge thrummed through him. “You’re learning how to please your Alpha.”

Her eyes blazed. “I was being considerate because I know you care about her, not to please you. This is the last time I do that.” She spun on her heel, and started to march away.

He snagged her hand and pulled her back. “You’ll join me for dinner. Here.”

Her lips tightened. “I’m not interested.” Those lips were driving him crazy. Later, he would whisper his thumb across them and watch how she parted them for him.

“You think it’s an invitation?” He threaded her fingers in his. “Come.”

She grimaced but didn’t argue for once as he led her toward the tables. Walking back through the crowd, she shrank against him, brushing along his side. Her head was down, and she didn’t look around at anyone.

He didn’t return to his original table; he took a more private one near a smaller cooking fire. Two oxen thigh bones lay near the coals, and he murmured a brief salute to the gods and tossed the bones into the flames. When a Beta brought over wine, he poured the first glass onto the ground and repeated his prayer. He may not believe in the gods any longer, but it didn’t stop him from asking for the god’s blessings for his men.

He lifted a brow at Kassandra. “You’re the priestess, do you have anything to add?”

“No. The gods favor you enough.”

He bit back a smile.

A Beta delivered two plates laden with food. “I’ll give you a choice. You can kneel here, in front of everyone, and feed me. Or you can undress me in the tent. All of me. Slowly. And you fix the bed.”

“Even if I fix it, it will still have you in it.”

He reached out and cupped her cheek. His thumb skated across her lips. Apparently, he couldn’t control himself enough to wait until later to touch them. “That’s right, and you like it that way.” He changed his mind—she wouldn’t be sleeping in Greta’s tent tonight. He wanted her with him.

She picked up one of the plates and stood, her cheeks flushed scarlet. “I’d rather kneel here and feed you.”

Shit.

He stood. “You took too long to decide, and my offer is rescinded. Sit by my side. You will undress me later.”

“You’re such a lout. No gentleman?—”

“You don’t want a gentleman.” His hand slid to her hair, and he tilted her face up to his. Her lips parted the way he’d pictured. Her perfect, pink lips. Biting back a groan, he ignored them, and dipped to her neck. He bit her and she squeaked, her hands flying up to his chest, but she didn’t push him away. When he sucked, she let out a soft sigh that had his cock go so hard he thought it would break out of his trousers. “You need more of my marks,” he murmured against her neck. “I know how much you hate them on you.”

She clawed his shoulders and pulled him closer. “Yes. I hate it.”

Music swelled across the camp, and he lifted his head. Kassandra drew back, her pupils too large and her chest heaving. She took a long, shaky breath and picked up her plate. “It’s time to eat.”

She refused to look at him.

She could battle him all she wanted, but tonight, in his tent, he’d have her shattering in pleasure. Tonight, she would finally give in.

His blood heated. He couldn’t wait. With a jolt, he frowned. He was eager to spend more time with her. Eager for a Sardi.

He turned to his plate. A hunk of bread sat next to a square of cheese, and he picked it up. Tearing off a small bite, he brought it to her lips.

Her eyes widened. “You told me you wouldn’t feed me.”

He froze. Yes, he’d said that. Because an Alpha feeding an Omega was a signal he was courting her. “I want you to eat so you have plenty of strength for later.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but to his surprise, she allowed him to feed her without another word.

“Putting honey in the bread was a good idea. It’s become popular.”

Her face reddened further, and she looked down. A Sardi uncomfortable with praise?

Soft music rolled through the camp.

A few warriors sat on the stage playing one of the old melodies on lyres and an aulos. The female Omega stepped up onto the stage to join them. Tossing her hair back, she sang.

He recognized the song, but it had been a long time since he’d heard the words. The Omega glanced toward him as she sang, and when she did, she caressed her throat, or lay her hand on her chest.

He ignored her invitation.

He and Kassandra ate in silence as one song slipped into the next. The Omega on stage fingered her throat again and pointedly stared at him. Next to him, Kassandra let out a hiss. “If you want to flirt with Briseis, let me return to the tent.”

His brows shot up, and he turned to her. Her hands gripped her plate so hard her knuckles were white.

She refused to look at him. “If you want another Omega, you don’t need me, do you? Let me go.”

“What are you going on about?”

She jerked her chin toward the stage. “You and Briseis.”

He almost laughed. She thought he wanted the singing Omega? “Am I your Alpha?”

A furrow deepened between her brows. “I’m your prisoner and you have a duty by me . You can’t break plans with your prisoner to go dally with another.”

He couldn’t stop it—he smiled. “You don’t want me near other Omegas because you’re possessive of me. Admit it.”

“No!” She spluttered, her mouth opening and closing a few times. “I don’t want you if you’re bedding others.”

“Because you want me for yourself.”

She pushed her plate away. “Cian told me how all you Alphas are.”

He frowned. “What did Cian say?”

She waved her hand toward the stage. “He told me that Alphas will pursue any willing Omega, and Briseis is clearly very willing tonight.”

He studied her a long moment. “What Cian said can be true for single Alphas.” He raised a brow. “ And for single Omegas. In Myrdinia, both enjoyed having fun before settling down.”

She looked at the ground. “He said even bonded Alphas act that way. He said he coupled with many bonded Alphas.”

He scoffed. “Sardi don’t understand true Alpha and Omega pairings. They put partners together like they do breeding stock in their barnyards. The bondings across Anatolia have become feeble. Weak. Untrue.”

He cupped her chin and tilted her face to his. “In Myrdinia, we only bond when we find our bondmate. When that happens, none walk Anatolia more loyal than a Myrdinian Alpha. He will willingly give his life for his mate. He would walk to the ends of the earth simply to hear her laugh. And he never looks at anyone but her because, for him, she is the fairest.”

She studied him. “That’s not what Cian said.”

He stroked his thumb along her jaw. “Cian hasn’t ever been with a Myrdinian, and neither have you.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I’ve never seen the kind of bond you describe.”

“My mother and father were bondmates, so I saw it every day. One of the things I fight for, is the freedom for all to have that.”

Her expression clouded. “If you carry out your plan with me, neither of us will have that. You and I aren’t bondmates.”

A roaring filled his ears, and something inside clawed against her words. But she spoke the truth. His true bondmate wouldn’t be a Sardi.

He locked his gaze on hers. “We may not be bondmates, but I’m your Alpha. I need you on my cock as much as you need to be there. Only you.”

The camp faded away around him until it was just the two of them, inches apart.

“Considering you know poetry by heart, I would think you’d come up with something a little more lyrical than you need me on your cock.” She smiled slightly. The first time she’d ever smiled at him. It hit him as hard as her pretty mouth saying the word cock did.

“Do you want me to recite poetry to you?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but the table creaked as someone flopped down to join them. Lodan drew back.

It was Cian, holding a lute. He gestured with it at Kassandra. “I told you. It’s your turn.” Cian nodded at the stage. “Go ahead.”

Color drained from her face. “I’m rusty. And no one wants to hear me. Or see me.” She pointed at the stage. “I’m sure Briseis has more songs.”

From behind Cian, a soft voice said. “Yes, I have plenty. Perhaps I could sing one of the tunes for Liberalia. I think our leader would particularly enjoy one of those.” Liberalia was a festival celebrating drinking and fertility. Processions featuring a phallus swept through the streets, and all the songs and dances were extremely sexual.

Kassandra put her hand on Lodan’s arm. Other than when she healed him or thought him asleep, it was the first time she’d voluntarily touched him. “Maybe you should sing the song for the Tonan festival,” she told Briseis.

Briseis stepped out from behind Cian, her face flushed red.

Cian clapped his hands. “Oh! A challenge.”

“Why is that a challenge?” Lodan asked. Music hadn’t been a part of his life for a long time. The Tonan festival was a special celebration of the arts performed every four years—he didn’t remember anything particular about a song.

“The Tonan songs are impossible,” Cian said. “Only the most accomplished lute players can play fast enough and get the fingering right. Most singers can’t hit the highest notes.”

Briseis tossed her head. “If I practiced, I could sing it easily.”

Cian snorted.

She glared at him, then pointed at Kassandra. “It’s not like you can play it.”

Kassandra shrank back. “I can play it, but I don’t like playing in front of people.”

Briseis sniffed. “We’re supposed to believe you can play that song, but you choose not to?” She sneered. “You’re a Sardi, if you could really play it, you’d want the admiration.”

Lodan snarled, and both Kassandra and Briseis jumped. Briseis turned to him, her brows shooting up. “Are you upset with me for speaking the truth? The Sardi always want us to look up at them from our lowly positions.”

He’d said similar things to Kassandra, but no one else would speak to her that way. “She’s choosing not to play. End of conversation.”

Briseis smoothed her hand down her hip, then ducked her head slightly, arching her neck in silent Omega invitation. “You’d rather spend time with a liar and an enemy when you have much better options?”

Kassandra let out a sound somewhere between a hiss and a snarl, launching to her feet. “Get out of here.”

Briseis’s head snapped up. “I live within the camp freely. I can do what I choose. No Sardi tells me what to do anymore, especially not one who has fits.” Her eyes narrowed. “No wonder you were locked away in a temple.”

Lodan stood. “Enough. She told you to leave. Leave.” He spoke quietly, but the entire camp fell silent, sensing the rage wafting from him.

The Omega seemed to realize she’d said too much. Her mouth snapped shut, and she took a step back. Giving him a stiff bob of a bow, she marched away.

Pale-faced, Cian picked the lute back up off the table. “I apologize for my rude companion.” He leaned toward Kassandra. “Do you really not want to play?” He glanced at Lodan. “Or is he forbidding it and making you go cook food and smell like charcoal again?” His nose wrinkled.

Another Omega who wasn’t scared of him and didn’t feel he had to hold his tongue around him either. Apparently, he and Xander had similar tastes. “Everyone helps in camp.” Lodan raised a brow. “Don’t you have chores assigned?”

“Pah, they’re more suggestions, really.” He snapped his fingers. “But I did help hold a horse earlier today so Xander could unload it.”

“You must be exhausted.”

Cian grinned. His gaze flicked from Kassandra to Lodan, then down to where Kassandra still had her hand on Lodan’s arm. He put the lute back on the table, saying quietly, “Play for him. He should see you play.” He shot Kassandra a knowing look that Lodan didn’t understand.

“Why?” Lodan asked.

But Cian walked away.

“What is he talking about?” he asked Kassandra.

She picked up the lute. “I haven’t played in a long time.” She tuned it, the notes thrumming as the tables around them quieted, the men turning to listen. Her fingers were deft on the strings, and she tilted her head slightly as if she needed to hear each note better.

“Do you know the Tonan song?” she asked, not stopping her strumming.

“I remember going to the Tonan festival when I was twelve, but I don’t remember the music.” He’d paid more attention to the tables of food.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the lute. “The Tonan song is about the time when humans fought the gods for Anatolia and prevailed because of the cleverness of a young warrior.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Kassandra drew in a deep breath. “It’s been a while, but I’ll try it. As long as it’s for you and not in front of camp.”

He didn’t call her attention to the fact that half the camp had already turned to watch her.

She rolled her shoulders and settled the lute more firmly in her lap. With a small inhale, she began.

The music started slow, a quiet murmur, but rapidly gained speed. Her fingers flew over the strings, the notes bold and gaining strength as the song progressed. Lodan couldn’t look away. The firelight cast her features in a warm glow, and her hair curled down her neck. She plucked each note with surety, faster and faster.

She may not be on stage, but the entire camp listened to her. Not a single man moved.

The song rose and fell in waves, as if describing the phase of battle. A great push, a retreat, another surge. Faster and faster.

Kassandra never faltered.

A dreamy quality washed over him, transporting him far away. He remembered walking through Myrdinia, the sun warm on his back as music played through the streets. People laughing. Dancing.

All the years of fighting were to restore the sense of real home across Anatolia, but he’d long forgotten what that even looked like.

Lodan glanced around. Many of his men stared at Kassandra like they’d never seen an Omega before. A few stood, the glasses in their hands forgotten, their wine dripping onto the ground.

As Kassandra strummed her last note, her head finally rose, and she locked gazes with Lodan. Desire punched through him so strongly he couldn’t catch his breath.

She was magnificent, and he had to have her.