By the time Raika pushed the fur flap of the tent open, her legs felt like they were carrying stone weights.
Five hours.
That's how long she'd wasted in the tavern, nursing mead after mead like it was supposed to do something other than leave her with a sour belly and a head full of fog. The Ice Rain was still falling hard against the world above, making the wind sound like screaming iron as it whistled through the tight cracks of the village's underground caverns.
And despite the thick furs she'd wrapped herself in, her bones still ached with cold as she stepped inside.
It was quiet here. No moans from the tents she'd passed. No drunken laughter. Just the faint crackle of a fire pit in the middle of the tent's floor.
Veyn was sitting beside it, bare-chested, his arms crossed loosely over his knees. His skin caught the low amber light, all sharp lines and lean muscle that made her chest tighten just a little more than she liked.
His hair was tied back, neat and perfect as always, and the only thing that seemed to be out of place was the faint cut that still marked his cheekbone from earlier.
But his eyes… they found her the moment she stepped inside, watching her in that way that made it seem like she hadn't even left for hours. Like he knew exactly where she'd be.
"Welcome back. You were gone a while."
She huffed and threw her fur coat off her shoulders, kicking her boots away as she slumped down on the thick furs laid out near the fire. The warmth seeped into her legs quickly, but it didn't make her feel any lighter.
"You still cooking?"
She muttered, nodding at the slab of meat turning over the coals. The scent hit her nose a second later.
It was a rich, smoky wild boar, seared clean through and basted in something sharp and herbal. Her stomach gave a traitorous growl that made her scowl.
Veyn chuckled softly, "I made boar. Thought you'd be hungry after drinking all that mead."
"How do you know I was drinking mead?"
He tilted his head a little, the faintest hint of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Because you always drink mead after you're mad at me."
"Tch," she scoffed, flopping down on her side and resting on her elbow. "You're assuming a lot."
"You just confirmed it."
She groaned and covered her face with one hand. "You're the worst."
"You say that every time," Veyn said, unbothered. He flipped the boar slab one more time, then pulled it off the spit, laying it neatly on a wooden plank. Another piece followed. And another. There were six in total, enough to feed three Krepsuna men. But Raika was already staring at them, eyes brightening despite herself.
"You're lucky I'm hungry," she grumbled as he slid a plate toward her.
"I made extra," he replied, settling beside her without fanfare. He cut himself a smaller portion, deliberately handing her the biggest. "Eat."
She didn't argue. The moment she had the thick cut of meat in her hands, her teeth sank into it, and the juices ran hot down her throat. Her growl of satisfaction was nearly animalistic and he chuckled again.
"You always eat like this," he said, watching her demolish the second piece before he'd even finished his first. "Mouth full, no manners."
She scowled at him through a mouthful of meat.
"Don't care."
"I know."
"You know too much."
She made a noise low in her throat, something between frustration and resignation. But she didn't stop eating.
The quiet stretched for a while, filled with the sounds of chewing and the low crackle of the fire. He didn't rush her. He never did. He just sat there, eating at his own slow pace, glancing at her now and again as if making sure she wasn't going to bolt.
When she was halfway through her third slab, she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry," Raika muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. She didn't look at him. "For earlier."
"You don't have to be."
"I do." She exhaled slowly, dragging her hand through her hair to tie them back properly again. "I wasn't angry because you want to go. I was angry because… I'm sad."
He didn't interrupt. He didn't soften it. He let her say it.
"I'm sad you're leaving the Northern Tribes. Sad you're leaving me. And even though I get it—your aunt, the woodworking, the Central Tribe offering something better—I still hate it."
Her voice cracked just a little, but she swallowed it down with a bite of meat, chewing hard to cover the shake.
"You don't have to protect me anymore," Veyn said quietly. "That's what you said earlier."
She grimaced. "Yeah. I did."
"It's true."
"Maybe I don't have to. But I want to."
Veyn smiled faintly. "I know."
That made her scowl again, but she shoved another piece of meat in her mouth to avoid saying anything too dangerous. She chewed fiercely.
He watched her in that steady, unreadable way of his. Then he reached out and ruffled her hair, tugging one of her braids loose just to be a bastard.
"Eat," he said, his voice softer now. "You'll need strength for tomorrow."
"For what?" she asked through her mouthful.
"You'll be carrying all my tools to the Central Tribe, won't you?" His grin widened when she nearly choked. "What, you think I'd make it out alone? Sure I'm fast too but I'm not strong enough to defend myself right?"
Raika coughed, glared, and kicked him under the table.
"You bastard..."
But she kept eating. And for now, that was enough.
°°°°°°°
The room was thick with heat.
Soft, golden lamplight flickered from the carved niches in the stone walls, casting shifting shadows that danced over the curves of bodies entangled in the sprawling mass of furs.
The ceiling arched high above them, smoke curling lazily toward the vents cut into the dark wood beams, mingling with the faint scent of burning resin and spiced oils.
It was a room built for royalty, filled with the kind of primal luxury that marked Chieftain Zarvana's private chambers.
The bed was massive, like a dais wrapped in woven leather, fur and velvet, big enough to fit five, though tonight there were only three; Zarvana and her favored men.
Her dark hands dragged through the thick braids of one, her nails pressing into his scalp as he buried his face between her thighs. The other trailed kisses up her stomach, his mouth moving with devotion. She was a queen in this place, her breath ragged but her gaze still sharp, still predatory, even in pleasure.
Their bodies moved around her like worshippers at a shrine. The men she chose always understood their place. Always respected her power.
The sounds of skin against skin, the faint growl from deep in her throat as she leaned her head back, closing her eyes... this was a kind of peace only she knew.
Until it wasn't.
Her breath hitched, but not from the hands on her. A sudden prickle ran down her spine,. Like someone had opened the door to the outside winds but it hadn't moved.
"Stop."
Her voice was cold. It sliced through the heated room like a spear of ice.
Both men obeyed immediately. No hesitation. They pulled back from her body, heads lowered, not daring to meet her gaze as they slipped away from the bed. They were trained well as they collected their clothes and left through the heavy tent flap without a single word. She didn't watch them go.
Zarvana pushed herself upright, her breath steadying as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there a moment, her dark, muscled arms resting on her knees, beads of sweat still clinging to her bronze skin. She didn't bother covering herself. Modesty was for weaker things.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared into the darker corner of the room.
"If you're here to ruin my good time," she growled, "this better be important."
The shadows shifted.
From them, the hooded woman stepped forward, her staff cradled loosely in one hand. No sound of boots on stone. No rustle of her cloak. She moved like smoke on water, existing between footsteps.
"You really do enjoy yourself, don't you, Chieftain Zarvana. Not that I'm complaining. It was quite the show."
Zarvana's fingers flexed, her nails clicking softly against the iron rings she wore.
"I don't recall inviting you to watch."
"I wasn't watching," the woman replied lightly. "I was observing."
The distinction wasn't lost on Zarvana. Her lip curled faintly as she leaned back on her palms, letting the golden light spill over her bare skin without a care for the woman's gaze.
"And what exactly were you observing, ghost?"
The hooded woman tilted her head as she stepped closer. She was still mostly in shadow, despite the firelight.
"A Chieftain in her glory. A reverse harem carefully selected to fulfill your every need. Strong, obedient, and beautiful. But I wonder…" Her voice lowered slightly. "Is it satisfaction you're after? Or distraction?"
"Careful," she said, her tone dangerous now. "You're in my bedchamber. On my land. And you're asking questions that make me want to break that pretty staff of yours."
The woman chuckled, "You wouldn't be the first to try."
There was a long silence after that. Zarvana's dark eyes studied the figure before her, weighing the risk. Weighing her patience.
Finally, she sighed and leaned forward again, her arms resting over her knees.
"My men are mine because they choose to be," she said. "They serve me because I offer them power, protection, and… pleasure. And I take them because I can."
The hooded woman's fingers tightened slightly on her staff, but she said nothing.
Zarvana's gaze narrowed further. "But you're not asking about them, are you?"
There was something like approval in the shadowed face of the hooded woman.
"I'm trying to understand," she said quietly, "how a woman with so much power still finds herself chained to a past she pretends isn't there."
"You're stepping into dangerous territory."
"And yet," the hooded woman replied softly, "here I am."
They stared at each other for a long moment. One bare, muscled, glowing in the firelight, every inch the ruler of her people. The other cloaked and silent, carrying secrets and causing panic.
"I like my harem," Zarvana said finally, her tone flat. "I like my power. I like my freedom. And if you think you're going to dig deeper than that tonight, you're wrong."
"I never dig deeper unless I know the roots can handle it."
Zarvana snorted, lazily rising from the bed with. She walked over to the wash basin, pouring cold water over her wrists, her neck, her breasts, the water running down her skin in thin rivulets.
"You came for something. Out with it."
"I did," the woman said, stepping closer now. "But I wanted to see what I was working with first."
"And?" Zarvana asked, wiping her face dry, not bothering to look back.
"You're exactly what I expected," the woman murmured. "Now then, I'm sure you know about the general meeting that all Chieftains of the Five Tribes of the Fallen Bridge go to. Right?"
"What about it?"
"I'd like you to take Raika and Veyn with you to that meeting alongside your subordinates."
"And why should I?"
"If you don't, my master will kill everyone in that meeting. And since I've grown fond of this tribe, I wouldn't want you to lose your life so easily."