Back in the caged prison, Sely sat in the same corner, her arms circling her knees, head resting against her thighs, her foot tapping restlessly against the floorboards.
"Thinkin' about yer lover boy, cursed Nyxari?" Freka asked from outside the bars, her voice rough with that barbarian lilt. She was sitting on a wooden stool, cleaning her dagger with steady strokes, the blade catching faint firelight inside the wooden house.
Sely lifted her gaze but didn't answer.
"If ye worry the boy'll be eaten by the Blood-Daughter, no need," Freka went on, eyes still on her dagger. "Blood-Daughter don't let an Aenvari ride with her."
Sely narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Freka smirked. "Everyone out there believes she drags Aenvari men into her chamber, rides 'em till they scream, then snaps their bones. Truth is—she never lets them touch her."
"That's a lie," Sely snapped. "I heard the three Aenvari men she took in her chamber were screaming all night with pleasure and pain. In the morning their naked corpses were carried out, bones broken."
"Oh, that part's true," Freka chuckled darkly. "That's why the fools think she's just a twisted woman—gettin' her fun before breaking her toys."
Her chuckle faded, eyes turning cold. "But those who know her… the real her… know she's far crueler than that."
"Then you're telling me she never fucked an Aenvari man? Then what the hell was she doing with them all night in her chamber—telling them bedtime stories?" Sely sneered.
Freka chuckled darkly. "You cursed Nyxari… let me tell you this. Not just Aenvari men…she's never ridden any man. If she could, she'd kill her own men the same way too."
"Then what does she do with them?" Sely pressed.
Freka's eyes turned cold, her smile thinning. "She plays a game. A game with her prey. Those who know her call it the Game of Truth."
Sely studied Freka's expression and said flatly, "You hate her."
"True," Freka admitted without hesitation, her voice low and edged with venom. "Not just me—most under her hate her rotten guts. She despises everyone: Aenvari, Nyxari, even her own kin. If she could, she'd carve up her own followers the same way she does the tribes she hates. The only thing stoppin' her is name and face. A leader who butchers her own doesn't last long. Her mother, the Matron o' the 2nd Great Faction, would snatch her power as soon as she slipped. Still, one mistake by her people, just one, and she'll torture ye or gut ye without blinkin'. Just like she did to my sister."
Freka let out a sharp breath, her shoulders sinking with a mix of frustration and helplessness. "But hate or not, we're bound. Already tied to her faction. Ye don't just walk away 'cause ye hate yer leader. Not so easy as the Aenvari, with their dumb rules and scattered loyalties."
Her gaze lingered on Sely, hard but almost pitying. "Ye'll end up dead soon… or dragged back to the Heartland as a slave…or worse, an experiment. Now that she's back in camp, yer time's short, Nyxari. Enjoy what little ye got left."
Freka stood, sheathing her dagger, and started for the wooden door. Before stepping out, she paused, turning back with a cruel smirk. "I wanted a taste of that rat—yer lover. But rules are rules. Maybe I'll settle for his corpse tomorrow. Kaka…" She left, the door slamming shut behind her.
Sely's eyes hardened, her chest rising and falling as tension gripped her. She muttered under her breath, voice sharp as steel. "Hurry up, Asher. We need to move tonight."
* * *
The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, and a chill hinted at approaching rain. From a cliff on the southern side of Helda's camp, a black-haired Aenvari man peered through a single lens spyglass, like something out of an old pirate tale—surveying the camp below.
An Aenvari woman stood beside him. "Most of the camp is mapped. We have a solid plan. It might just work."
"Work, my ass," a white-haired Aenvari, Gilbert, scoffed, sitting on a stone while studying a roughly drawn map. "Who thought letting Lady Selis get captured was a good idea? Now that beast Helda is back, an attack would be suicide."
The man with the spyglass, Asher, turned sharply. "And what do you suggest, Gilbert? Just leave her there? Do you know what they'd do to her if they knew who she is? Do you think any of us would survive if the Matriarch found out?"
Gilbert rose, pacing closer. "Oho, so now fighting Helda would somehow save us? It would only bring death. Lady Selis chose to get herself captured. Just because the Matriarch put us under her command doesn't mean I have to march to my grave for her." He jabbed a finger into Asher's chest.
Selene stood beside Asher, frowning. "Then why were you eager to attack when she first suggested it? You supported it fully back then. Why are you spineless now, Gilbert?"
"Yes, I was on board at first," he admitted, pointing toward the hooded girl leaning against a tree behind them. "But back then, her intel said Helda wouldn't return to the camp for at least a week. It's only the fourth day since Lady Selis was captured, and Helda is already back. We planned the attack for the fifth day—before her return. Do you really think Lady Selis would've just been captured and locked away if Helda had been here? That monster wouldn't care, even if Lady Selis used an artifact to shapeshift into a Nyxari."
The hooded girl, Leah, snorted from her spot against the tree. "Are you afraid, Gilbert? Then hand the necklace to Rai and get lost. Though let me guess—you'd be dead anyway for deserting your team and your leader."
Gilbert gave her a look like she'd just spoken nonsense. "Of course I'm afraid. I'm also the only sane one here. Actually…no, not sane. If I were, I wouldn't have been eager to join Lady Selis's team in the first place. I'd have been better off joining an idi—"
"Enough!" Asher's voice cracked like a whip, carrying across the cliffside. "Nothing is decided until we speak with Lady Selis herself. Attack or escape, it'll be her call. We move closer, get within range of the artifact, and signal her. If she abandons the plan, we abandon it too. Are we clear, Gilbert?"
Gilbert exhaled, defeated. "Sigh… whatever. Do I have a choice?" He turned back toward the forest, where more Aenvari warriors were suiting up around a small fire.
Asher turned to Selene. "Tell everyone to get ready. We move closer to the camp, within range for the artifact signals to reach Lady Selis."
Selene nodded, her eyes scanning the camp a little far below. It was eerily quiet, the only illumination coming from the massive central fire, glowing like a miniature sun.