stronger force. She’d been like that once. Now, there was only one male whose commands she willingly followed.
She pushed herself up to get a better view of where she was.
To her right were the pens crowded with the Other females. Twelve in all. The same number as when she’d brought them here. It drew a flare of relief. At least all were still alive, including Melody and Hope’s mother. She sent a prayer of thanks to the Ancients.
They were draped in anazis like hers. Hidden, because Talg likely hated the sight of them. They’d pressed their covered faces to the bars as they sobbed and shrieked, their gazes locked on Cam lying still and silent in the dirt.
The Other females’ behavior was in stark contrast to the quiet solemnity of the pack. Females and children had gathered in a semicircle on the border of the fire rocks, their worried faces digging just as big a pit in Nayla’s stomach as the Other females’ cries.
Her pack looked hungrier than before, their faces gaunt. With her gone, there would have been no more food deliveries and Talg was so focused on his war and weapons, he was not taking the proper time to get the food they needed. Her people were even closer to starvation than before.
War would only make things worse.
“What is this?” The familiar pack voice stole her breath, her brain translating it easily to Grif’s New English and back to her own familiar language.
Ramm. She was blocked by the legs of the guards, but she caught a glimpse of the hunter as he jogged forward to speak with the guards surrounding her.
After so much time with the Others, it was strange to hear her native dialect spoken by so many as the guards explained their version of what had happened.
It was even stranger to look at Ramm without the slits of her anazi to distort her vision.
He was still a handsome pack male. His rectangular jaw, huge tusks, sharp upper fangs, and the abundant kill records carved into his flesh all testament to his worth as a good hunter. He’d be an excellent provider to any pack-mate. Except he struck her as not nearly ferocious enough now. And oddly hairless, without the dark intensity and beautiful green eyes of the male she now craved above all others.
When she thought of what she had once sought so desperately, to be the mate of someone like Ramm and live her life in dutiful acceptance, grateful to just be on the margins, she wanted to be sick.
To think she had almost never known what it was to be free. To recognize her worth. Most of all, to be loved fiercely and wildly and ruthlessly by someone as amazing as Grif.
No matter what happened next, she would always have that.
“Ramm!” She lifted her head, letting her tangle of hair fall away from her face.
The hunter stumbled back, his golden eyes flaring bright. “G-Gazi?” Whispers spread through the pack like a wildfire. “We thought you were dead.” His skin flared red, the sign of strong emotion.
“I am alive and well.” She took advantage of the guards’ surprise to push to her feet. “If you want to remain that way yourselves, the pack needs to let me and the Other females go.”
More shocked whispers.
Ramm’s gaze narrowed. “Watch yourself.” He had always been kinder to her than most, but he was still pack. Gazi did not speak unless spoken to. They never met pack gazes head-on. They also certainly never made demands.
Except she was done playing by Talg’s rules.
“Naja!” she snarled. It felt good. “You have killed an Other. There will be a cost. But you can still save yourselves if you let the females and me go now.”
“They have done something to you.” Ramm’s gaze traveled Nayla’s body, a mix of displeasure, concern—and lust. How had she not noticed before? She had been so lost in her own sense of unworthiness, she’d failed to realize someone could feel something for her besides pity or contempt. Until Grif.
“They have,” she agreed. “But it is not what you might expect. They have freed me.”
Surprised murmurs. A few cries to the Ancients. The pack villagers crowded closer, drawn by curiosity and fear.
“Y-you are not her.” Ramm’s gaze was dark with suspicion. “You are not Gazi. She does not behave in this way. You are something else.”
“Also true.” She’d lived so long in their shadows, scavenging for approval, shelter, and food, soaking up whatever crumbs she could—but no longer.