My muscles locked as four hunters filled the cave entrance. Rafi's hand slipped from my mouth, his voice cutting through tension.
"We're travelers—"
"Shut your mouth." The largest hunter's command cracked like a whip.
Four sets of eyes stripped me bare. The scarred one whistled low, tongue sliding across filed teeth.
"Beautiful as a goddess. Never seen her like in our territories."
"Where from?" A third man's knuckles flexed on his blade hilt, tendons rippling beneath weathered skin.
"Beyond the eastern peaks." Rafi's lie flowed smooth as water over stone. "I'm Nadir. She's Noura."
"Precious and Light." The fourth hunter's laugh rumbled deep enough to shake loose pebbles. "Rich blood running from something. Families will pay gold to retrieve you."
"Perfect." The leader's teeth gleamed like a predator's. "Winter hunting pays nothing. Your ransom buys us months of comfort."
Their laughter echoed off stone, multiplying until it felt like dozens of men surrounded us. The leader's gaze crawled over me like insects on skin.
"Wouldn't mind sampling the goddess first."
Rafi stepped forward. "She's my betrothed."
"Betrothed?" The scarred one settled against the cave wall, spreading his bedroll with deliberate leisure. "Runaways' engagements mean nothing. Parents didn't approve, did they?"
The others claimed their spaces, weapons within reach but hands relaxed—we posed no threat to four armed killers. The leader's decision fell like an axe stroke.
"Tomorrow you accompany us to Kharzai village."
Rafi's fingers twitched—our exact destination transformed into captivity. "Of course." He shifted his pack, maps disappearing deeper into leather folds.
"I'm Aritan, chief hunter." The introduction carried threat like a blade carries edge. "These three—Sarkan, Mazran, Khalden—my hand-trained brothers. We hunt as one. Kill as one."
The warning crystallized in cave air. Four men who moved with pack instinct, who'd gut us at a glance from their leader. Rafi nodded understanding while my teeth ground together.
"Smart boy." Aritan pulled dried meat from his pack, tearing strips with those filed teeth. "Most nobles try negotiating. Offering family wealth. We had one last spring—merchant's son. Kept talking about his father's connections until Sarkan opened his throat."
"Sprayed like a fountain," Sarkan added, demonstrating with his hands. "Amazing how much blood one body holds."
Night crawled on broken legs. Snores thundered while Rafi and I sat rigid, backs pressed to cold stone. His fingers found mine in darkness, spelling thoughts against my palm: Stay calm. Play along. Almost there.
Dawn brought a forced march through paths we'd planned to walk as free people. The hunters' conversation turned vile—arguing who'd claim me as Noura when their village leader rewarded winter service.
"Those hips were made for bearing sons," Mazran observed, his voice thick with intent. "The chief might give her to whoever brings the most game."
"Or whoever pays highest." Khalden's massive frame blocked sunlight when he turned. "I've saved three years of hunting wages."
"She's already claimed," Rafi said through clenched teeth.
"By a soft-handed boy who can't even carry his woman's weight?" Sarkan's laugh cut sharp. "Look at her limping. What kind of man lets his betrothed suffer?"
My knee buckled on cue, the morning's travel having aggravated yesterday's injury. I pitched forward. Rafi caught me, arms locking around my waist as my weight crashed into him.
"Her knee's torn." His words came out tight, controlled. "She needs rest."
"Rest?" Aritan spun, predator-quick despite his bulk. "We have eight miles before dark. No rest for runaway nobles."
"Then I'll carry her—"
"You?" Mazran shoved between us, forcing Rafi back. "You're already stumbling. Weak as watered wine."
"The woman slows us." Aritan's calculation took seconds. "Khalden. Carry her. We reach Kharzai by nightfall."
"No—" Rafi started forward.
Khalden's fist connected with Rafi's stomach. Not hard enough to cause real damage, just sufficient to fold him in half, gasping.
"Resist and we leave you bleeding." Khalden's voice rumbled against my ear as his arms enclosed me. "I'll take the woman anyway."
My body went rigid as he lifted me. His hands gripped too familiar—one at my thigh, another across my ribs, fingers spread wide. The stench of him filled my nose: old blood, unwashed skin, something rotten beneath.
Over his shoulder, I watched Rafi following, his hand never leaving his blade hilt. Blood trickled from where he'd bitten through his lip.
"Comfortable, goddess?" Khalden's breath burned hot against my neck. "Getting to know each other before the chief decides your fate."
"Put her down." Rafi's voice carried murder.
"Boy threatens like a kitten," Sarkan mocked. "All hiss, no claws."
"Test me." The words dropped between them like stones into still water.
Aritan's hand found his axe handle. "Problem, Nadir?"
The moment stretched taut. One wrong word would leave Rafi's blood painting snow. His jaw worked, muscle jumping beneath stubbled skin, before he forced his fingers from his blade.
"No problem."
"Smart choice." Aritan resumed walking. "Wouldn't want Noura watching you die. Women scream so ugly when their men bleed out."
Others laughed.
I swallowed the urge to answer, letting the men’s laughter rake past me like thorns.
Rafi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and fell in behind, jaw set, his eyes on my face. Snow muttered under our feet and swallowed our prints as fast as we made them.