Just admit you miss your boss!

Cyra and the rest arrived at their destination, unaware that someone was planning her demise.

“We’re here,” she announced to the crowd, and a wave of relief washed over them. Finally, they had arrived.

Their bottoms were numb from sitting too long, and as they stretched their limbs, their eyes scanned the wide clearing—low-hanging, dried-up trees swaying gently in the wind. Confusion and doubt coloured their faces.

“There’s nothing here,” someone muttered.

The murmur spread through the crowd of women. Even Viktor frowned, doubt flickering across his face.

The land looked no different from the desert. Given the journey, he’d expected something more.

“We’re in the West Oasis,” Cyra declared. “A safe place in the desolate lands… well, not completely safe,” she added as an afterthought, just in case someone grew too relaxed and ended up dead—then blamed her for it.

“Use this and set camp.” She pulled tents from her space and dropped them to the ground without another word.