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Xander reined up next to him. “We’re an hour away from the meeting spot, but there’s a complication.”

Lodan tensed, and Stone’s ears twitched. The Dorians had finally responded to his request for a meeting while Lodan lay with Kassandra during her heat. Their instructions were to proceed into the mountains to a meadow northeast of Argos, then follow a footpath to one of their villages. It was a parallel route to the one he’d taken while chasing Kassandra and one leading directly into the heart of the Dorian mountains.

They had been on the road for a day and a half, and Kassandra had slept the entire journey in the Omega caravan. He knew she needed sleep after their time together in the tent, but he needed to talk to her.

And tell her what?

Despite having thought of nothing else but trying to find the right words, he still didn’t know what to say. He didn’t hold her responsible for her brother’s actions, and he didn’t see a Sardi when he looked at her. But how did he see her? How did he see their future together?

If he took her as his mate, she’d always be the Sardi princess. Would his men accept her? Xander may have grown less suspicious of her, but he hadn’t accepted her.

One thing Lodan knew for sure, though. He never wanted her crying in his arms like that again. He’d spend his entire life making sure she was never sad like that again. “What’s the complication?”

Xander’s gaze drifted to the Omega caravan next to them. “They said they’ll only meet with you if Kassandra comes, too.”

Lodan jerked upright, and Stone shied to the right. “What?”

Xander nodded. “Yeah. She has to come. If she doesn’t, they won’t meet with us. Ever.”

“Did they say why?”

“Nope.”

The Dorians had already demanded the meeting to be on foot inside their forest. Their territory. This was too much. This was Kassandra. “The Dorians told the Sardi they’d only meet with them if they brought Kassandra, too. What is this?”

“It’s strange,” Xander agreed. “When has a city-state demanded an Omega be present?”

“I don’t like it.”

Xander pointed towards the front of the procession. “The Dorian messenger is still here. Do you want me to cancel? We can turn west and pursue the Sardi.”

He thought for a long moment. “If the Dorians are this serious about meeting her, I doubt they want to do her harm.” Most likely they had other interests in mind. He growled deep in his throat. If they thought one of their males would be allowed to lay so much as a finger on her, they had another thing coming.

“I’ve heard rumors the Dorians don’t have many Omegas.”

It seemed Xander’s thoughts were running parallel to his own. “But they know her by name, and that concerns me. How’s that possible?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Lodan nodded. “I’ll ask her. If she wants to go, we go.”

After he’d woken her up, she told him she wanted to go. Now, they stood side by side at the edge of their new camp in the wide mountain meadow the Dorians had selected for the meeting place. Sometimes, after their first battle, young soldiers would go into a kind of shock where they struggled to process all the death they’d seen. He always sat with them and asked them to speak of home. Of whom they fought for. Usually, if he could get them talking, they would get better. Kassandra had the same look to her, her eyes blank and hollow looking.

Often when he closed his eyes to sleep, he saw the end of his family. He would never have wished for her to see it. Never. Not even when he cursed her stubbornness, clinging to Sardi lies and refusing to see the truth.

Reaching out, he said, “Take my hand.” After a moment, she slid her hand slowly in his. His fingers tightened around hers.

Better.

“Look at the men in camp.”

She bit her lip but did as he asked. Thoas waved at her, and Jason gave her a curt nod. “They think of you as the camp member who saved Thoas and his team. And the healer who helped Greta. You’re no longer a Sardi here.”

Her expression smoothed. “You really think so?”

He scowled down at her. “Am I the leader here or not? I don’t think anything. I know.” And he did. He’d watched his men all day and considered what they’d think if he took Kassandra as his own. While Xander might still be a hold out, everyone else seemed to like her. Even Jason.

He halted and closed the distance between them. Bending to her ear, he lowered his voice. “Maybe they’re wishing they were lucky enough to have an Omega like you. One who screamed her Alpha’s name with pleasure.” He shifted, searching for the right words. The kind of words that didn’t come easily to him.

He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. Yes she had the fine golden hair of Sardi royalty, but how had he not noticed that her hands were rough from work? How she walked around in cast-off clothes without a care or complaint because she didn’t care about fancy dresses. “They see an Omega who wanted them to have better-tasting food. An Omega who plays the lute like an angel. Who chose, out of all the songs in Anatolia, a song about courage and battle. An Omega who has not once backed down against any enemy she’s faced, not even me.”

He tilted her chin up. “They see you, Kassandra.”

“Is that how you see me?” Her eyes searched his, and she seemed vulnerable for the first time since he’d known her. As if he could crush her with one word. And he probably could, but he wouldn’t. He smiled, and the muscles of his cheeks twitched, unfamiliar with the motion. “Yes.”

Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “You don’t smile.”

“No. And I don’t laugh either, yet I’ve done both with you in the past few days.” He jerked his head toward Xander and the band of warriors going with him into Dorian territory. “Now hold my hand and walk at my side. You belong here. With me.”

Her hand squeezed his tight, and she nodded. She’d asked him, What do you want from me? At this moment, he knew he wanted her at his side.

He studied the dark forest ahead of them. Myrdinia was a land of open fields and lush river valleys. The forests there were nothing like these trees lurching high into the sky. “When we get into the Dorian forest, if I tell you to do something, you do it. Instantly. I don’t know what to expect.”

Her brow furrowed. “The Dorians have never attacked Anatolia.”

“True.”

“I’m good with a bow,” she said. “A small bow, one you’d probably give to young Alphas in training. Your larger bows are too hard for me to draw. If you have one, I can help.”

While he had a few archers in his army, they rarely fought with bows. Myrdinians preferred swords. “I’ll find you one later.” He squeezed her hand gently. “Even though I know you might decide to shoot an arrow at me instead.”

He was gifted with a small smile.

“Today though, with the Dorians, I need you to listen to me for once.”

She squeezed his hand back. “I’ll consider it.”

His lips curled for the second time that day.

Keeping her hand in his as they entered the forest, his other was ready to grab his sword off his back and strike.

A narrow path, barely wide enough for one horse, led from the main road into the trees. It resembled a game trail and nothing more. They wouldn’t have noticed it if the Dorians hadn’t pointed it out as the road they needed to take.

The mountain forest was thick, and the trees a green so dark they almost seemed black. The air up here smelled different, too. It didn’t have the warm, mineral smell of Myrdinia or the tang of the ocean from the land near Sarda City. This was pine mixed with the fresh scent of the earth after it rained.

Xander caught his eye and motioned with his hand—signaling he hadn’t seen anything alarming yet. They were ready for an ambush in case the Dorians had chosen to join with the Sardi and this was a trick.

He scanned the trees. Nothing. He mimicked the signal back to Xander.

They rounded a bend, and two male Dorians stood beside the path. One light-haired and the other dark. The one on the left, his blond hair a bit long and—was it styled? —stared at Kassandra as if he’d never seen a female before. Both were big, well-muscled Alphas, but neither wore armor.

The tension in Lodan’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. No one came to a battle without wearing armor.

The dark-haired one said, “When we approach the village, you’ll remove all weapons.” The Dorian lifted his arms, revealing no sword at his belt, although he could have blades hidden under his tunic. “Then you’ll meet with our leader.”

Lodan’s men were all brawlers. When they first became an army, they hadn’t had many swords, so they’d trained with pitchforks fastened into spears, and with their fists. No other army, not even the mysterious Dorians, would have trained like that. If his men had to fight without their weapons, they would win. Except, he didn’t think the Dorians were going to attack. He didn’t get the sense of an ambush.

However, something still wasn’t right. Why was Kassandra here?

The Dorian male staring at her dropped his gaze to where Lodan held Kassandra’s hand, and he frowned. He muttered something to his companion, whose gaze flitted from Lodan to Kassandra. The dark-haired Dorian’s expression hardened.

“We’ll come, but the Omega doesn’t need to join us,” Lodan said.

“She joins, or there’s no talk between us,” the dark-haired Dorian replied, addressing Xander as he stood in the command position at the front. They’d played this role many times. Xander acted as the leader, giving Lodan the chance to observe. It didn’t always work because sometimes those they encountered already knew about the Warlord and recognized his armor, but usually it did.

Xander raised a brow at him, a tiny motion few would notice.

Lodan tapped his index finger twice on his belt—the sign to proceed.

Xander nodded, and the group resumed walking into the forest. The farther they went, the more Lodan’s free hand twitched toward his sword. The sensation of being watched prickled at the back of his neck.

He caught a slight glimpse of motion above him and scanned the boughs. The trees in this part of the mountain were massive, with walkways built in their upper canopy. Unarmed sentries watched the procession below.

Xander fell back into step with him. “I think there are a lot more Dorians than we considered.”

Lodan nodded.

Like Kassandra had said, the Dorians had never attacked Anatolia. There had been skirmishes over the years, but only when the Dorians thought the rest of Anatolia infringed on their mountains. Even though Dorian territory was part of Anatolia, they were a kingdom unto themselves.

What was really known of them? They were fierce, had strange customs few people had witnessed, and didn’t allow strangers to enter their lands. At least, not until now.

His hand twitched again.

The path widened, revealing a town built into the mountain itself. Rock stairsteps laced up the side of the mountain face, leading to ornate doors of wood, each with a large, yellow knob in the center. It was impossible to guess the number of people living here. Those doors could be for a single home, or a passage into the mountain.

Homes built from wood surrounded a central square. He studied them out of the corner of his eye. The joists were like nothing he’d ever seen, each one interwoven as if braided. He didn’t have much time for woodworking, but he still studied techniques, applying a few of them at camp when he could, and he’d never seen homes structured like this. In other circumstances, he’d ask how they did it.

“Weapons off here,” the dark-haired Dorian said.

It took five minutes for him to remove all the blades strapped to him.

“You all right?” he asked Kassandra as they waited.

Her eyes were wide as she scanned the clearing. “This village is nice. Cozy.” While he still didn’t like the demand that she join them, he did like the change in her expression. She looked more like herself. And that made him feel better.

He rubbed his chest. They weren’t bonded, yet she was entwined with him in a way he didn’t understand.

Keeping Kassandra tucked against him, they followed the Dorians through the village. The main street appeared deserted, but when Lodan looked up, more Dorian women and children stood among the leaves in the huts built high up in the trees. It was the spying of the curious, not the bloodthirsty.

Inside a large, high-roofed building, a great hall stretched to a tall chair near a roaring fireplace. The chair was empty, but Lodan expected this was where the Dorian leader met with his people. A large, older man stood before the chair, built like a barrel with close-cropped dark hair and arms almost as large as Xander’s. Behind him was a tall, older woman, her dark hair worn in a long braid down her back. Her cool gaze lingered on Kassandra.

The large man nodded at them. “I’m Manix.” He gestured toward the blond escort. “This is Davos my eldest son.” He turned to the dark-haired male. “This is Ision, my youngest.” He stepped back and waved his hand at the woman. “This is Clara.”

Xander took the lead in introducing their group. No one reacted when he introduced Lodan. It wasn’t clear if they recognized him or not.

“As you can see, we wear no armor and carry no weapons,” Manix said. “Today is a day for talk.”

“Do you know why we sought council with you?” Xander asked.

Lodan studied the Dorians as Xander led the discussion and found Clara studying him back, her eyes narrowed. She wore a green dress with ornate stitching that hugged her figure and came up in a high collar that framed her face. She had the same far-seeing gaze his most battle-worn Myrdinians had—the eyes of a warrior.

Other than his sons, Manix hadn’t explained who the other Dorians in the room were, and he’d assumed she was Manix’s mate, but now … he wasn’t so sure.

“We aren’t interested in engaging in the battles of the downlanders,” Manix said.

“Good,” Xander replied. “Then this meeting isn’t needed. We aren’t asking for your aid. All we ask is that you don’t aid others, either.”

Clara leaned over and whispered in Manix’s ear. Lodan shifted. The sense of something being wrong pressed on him like a blanket.

He bent his head close to Kassandra’s. So far, she’d said nothing, only watched what was going on around her.

He whispered, “I’m not an expert on clothes, but it looks to me like Clara’s dress is finer than what Manix is wearing. Do you think the same?” Manix wore nicer linen than the battle-tested clothing Lodan and his men wore, but it wasn’t court garb, at least, not compared to the other city-state courts he’d visited, while Clara’s clothing would be appropriate at any court event in any city-state.

Kassandra nodded and turned her head, her lips only a few inches from his. “And she wears a large sigil ring on her middle finger. Some of the leaders I met in Sarda wore those.”

He hadn’t noticed, but the gleam from the fire caught the large ruby in the center of what must have been the seal of the Dorians.

He almost smiled. Apparently, the Dorians played the same trick he did, hiding their true leader.

“The Sardi came here for our aid, and we said the same to them,” Clara said. “We don’t aid downlanders. But the Sardi did tell us something interesting, and we do aid our own.” She turned to Lodan. “I’ll meet with the Warlord and Kassandra privately now.” She waved her hand at Manix. “Offer the others food and drink.”

Our own. What did she mean by that? He didn’t like the sound of this.

Xander stepped forward, continuing to pretend he was the Warlord, and Clara shot him a severe look. “Don’t play us for fools any longer.” She turned to Lodan. “I know who the Warlord is.”

“And you’re also the leader here,” Lodan said. “Give us your real titles.”

Clara’s gaze was hard as she continued staring at him as if angry. “I’m Clara the Fleet-Footed. The Leader of the Northern Tribe of the Dorians. Manix is my companion and Tribe Commander. Ision and Davos are our sons.” She sniffed. “Alphas tend not to believe an Omega can be a leader.”

“Sardi Alphas, perhaps.”

Clara studied him for a long moment. “Perhaps.” She waved her hand toward a door to her left. “Let’s sit and talk.”

He nodded at Xander.

Xander’s lips thinned into a straight line, a sign he didn’t agree, but he remained behind with the rest of the men. Lodan and Kassandra followed Clara into a small sitting room, richly outfitted with tapestries on the walls and wide windows showing the trees outside. Some of the trunks were so large, they might provide enough wood to build an entire house from one tree.

A table covered with a deep green runner sat in the middle of the room, and Clara led them to it. As she sat, she asked, “Wine? Water? Our water here is from the mountain, so it’s pure and fresh.”

He and Kassandra both declined.

Lodan leaned forward. “State your purpose.”

“Typical Alpha politeness.” Clara turned to Kassandra, “How are you? Are you all right? Have they treated you well?”

Kassandra shot him a quick glance. “It could be worse.”

Clara nodded as if she’d expected that answer. “The Sardi told us that you were a prisoner of the Myrdinians, and we saw what they did to you in Argos.” There was no disguising the disgust on her face when she turned back to Lodan. “At least she isn’t bound in ropes today.”

He sat back in his chair. Out of everything he’d expected to discuss today, Kassandra being led through the village of Argos hadn’t been one of them.

Clara continued, “My offer is simple. We will accept your request not to aid the Sardi, and you may enter our forests to attack if the Sardi take refuge in them. In return, Kassandra stays here. With her people.”

It felt like being punched hard in the stomach. “No.”

“My people?” Kassandra asked.

For the first time, Clara’s expression softened. “Your mother was my younger sister. I told her no good would come of taking the Sardi king as her lover, but she did it anyway. He cut off all contact with us after she left. He was probably afraid she’d return home after she learned the true ways of the downlanders.” She practically snarled the words. “I didn’t know about her death for years. And I didn’t know about you at all.”

Lodan barely heard what she said. All he could focus on was that this leader wanted Kassandra to stay here. Forever.

“My brother always called me an outsider, but he never told me my mother was a Dorian,” Kassandra said. “He must have known, though, if he told you about me.”

Clara nodded. “He did. And I sent scouts to watch the Myrdinian army to confirm you were with them.” She smiled and the hard gaze of the warrior vanished entirely. “Other than your hair color, you look exactly like her.”

Lodan gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. “Half Dorian or not, Kassandra is with me.”

Clara ignored him. “Did he bond you to him?”

Kassandra shook her head. “An Omega must start the bond. I haven’t offered.”

She’d never offered her bond. Not even when his Alpha side took over, and without him being aware of his actions, he’d nuzzled at her neck, nibbling and biting, courting her to offer the bond.

It hadn’t worked.

Clara nodded. “It’s like that for us, too, but I wasn’t sure about downlanders. Thank the heavens. You can be clear of him without impact.”

It felt like he was a step behind, clutching to hold onto the conversation. Lodan growled. “No, she won’t be clear of me. She’s mine.”

“Because she’s a possession, isn’t she? A nice toy for you to play with.” Clara’s smile was cold. “We heard your Commander’s words in Argos. You’re using Kassandra, this perfect, powerful Omega, as fodder for your aim to be king of Anatolia. Too bad, Warlord . She’s safe here. She’s free here. And she’ll stay here.”

His grip tightened so hard the table cracked. “Or what?”

Kassandra interrupted. “You want me to live here? With the Dorians?”

Clara smiled. “Yes. No one will tell you what to do. Or who to bond with. Here, Omegas invite Alpha attention only when they want them. And we only bond if we find a bondmate.” A glimpse of what seemed like sadness crossed her face. “It happens less often than we’d like. We have few Omegas.” She straightened and waved her hand toward the door they’d come through. “Manix is my bondmate, but I chose our bonding. No one else.”

Lodan’s hands fisted. “No. She doesn’t belong here.”

Clara snarled, looking like she was about to swing a sword at his head. “Then we will help the Sardi crush you. Their king promised Kassandra was free to live here.”

He went white hot with pure rage. “So much for not interfering with downlanders.”

“Like I said, we’re willing to fight for our own.” Clara slammed her fist on the table. “I lost my sister. I won’t lose my niece.”

Lodan jerked to his feet, his chair tipping backward and crashing to the floor. “Then we are at war.”

Kassandra reached out and put her hand on his arm. Her eyes had the same haunted look from this morning. “Focus on defeating my brother and find the peace you seek. As long as I’m with you, I’ll remind you of what you hate.”

He knew he breathed, but he felt like he was drowning. He turned to Clara. “Kassandra and I will speak privately now.”

At first, he thought the Dorian leader would refuse, but she stood slowly. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

It seemed like a lifetime for her to leave them together.

Kassandra stood. “Lodan.” She swallowed hard. “ Vasick … there’s no future for us. Don’t shed your blood, or those of your army, for me. You asked me what I want, and I told you. I want to live a simple life, pursuing simple pleasures. A family. An Alpha who loves me.” Her eyes suddenly seemed too large for her face, and bone-achingly sad. It made his chest hurt. It demanded he give her whatever she wanted to make it go way. “You can’t give me that.”

He heard her words, knew the truth of them, but shook his head anyway. Their time together had been too short, and he wanted more. “You might be pregnant.”

She turned and gazed out the windows. “I took an herb Greta gave me to stop conception. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

He rubbed his face and stepped back. Every time he’d knotted her, he’d thought about how he might be getting her with child, and something warm had blossomed in his chest. Having a baby, their baby, had stopped being an abstract idea.

“Pregnant or not, you have a home with me. With the Myrdinians. We’ll keep you safe.” For the past ten years, he’d fought to free Anatolia, and to free those oppressed by the Sardi. He’d stopped seeing Kassandra as the enemy and recognized her as someone he needed to protect. Needed to help. He fought for her, too.

She’d been abused and imprisoned by the Sardi, and not one single day in her entire life had she ever been free. She’d never had a choice about her life, at least, not until he offered his camp as her refuge, not her prison.

“What about the prophecy?” she asked.

“What about it?”

She sucked in a breath. “Gain everything you want in battle. It’s the only real choice.”

The prophecy.

Die in everlasting glory at the gates of his greatest enemy. Or live a long life, his name unknown to all but those who love him.

He remembered how he’d mocked the idea of love. A long life. He didn’t feel like mocking it any longer.

“Avenging my family has been my one goal.” It was finally within his reach, right at his fingertips. And it wasn’t just his family. Those who followed him and fought with him, who’d lost their own families, deserved to be avenged.

Kassandra wrapped her arms around herself, still staring out at the trees. “I hope your life isn’t short. I hope the prophecy is wrong about that. But you must avenge your family. Leave me here with the Dorians. Finish your war.”

“This is really what you want? To stay here?”

She nodded. “Please.”

Please. She’d said she’d never beg.

“I would have fought every last Dorian to keep you at my side,” he said softly in the voice he used when they were in bed together, the one that was almost a purr. “I would have fought the grasping hand of death for one more day, one more hour, at your side.” What he said wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough, but he couldn’t find the words. She deserved an Alpha who would love her. Who would stop seeing her as a link to the worst moments in his life.

What do you want from me?

“I know what I want from you,” he said. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be free. I want you to be able to choose what you want.”

Her lips trembled. “I want to stay here.”

Moving closer, he took one of her hands in both of his. Something feral inside clawed and raged like a wounded animal, but he didn’t let it show. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. It was something his father had always done with his mother. “Goodbye, Kassandra.”