Betrayed.

"Hey there, precious little thing. You look like you're about to die of thirst."

A deep chuckle followed the mocking words, soon joined by the laughter of nearby soldiers. One of the werewolf warriors slowed his horse to match Sorayah's sluggish pace. Amusement danced in his golden eyes as he peered down at her, his sharp canines flashing in a cruel grin.

"Why don't you let me help you?" His voice oozed with false concern. "I'll share some water with you…" He leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "In return, perhaps you can spread those pretty little legs for me. I promise to put in a good word with Beta Dimitri. Depending, of course, on how well you perform."

Laughter erupted again from the soldiers nearby, their jeers ringing through the night air.

Sorayah, however, remained silent. She neither acknowledged the werewolf nor faltered in her steps.

Her indifference only seemed to entertain him further.

"What, no answer? That's a shame." The soldier sighed in mock disappointment. "Why do you insist on making things harder for yourself? Perhaps I should just take you right here and now and send you to the filthiest workhouse afterward."

With that, he raised his whip.

The leather cracked through the air, slicing toward Lily but Sorayah moved first.

Without hesitation, she threw herself over her unconscious friend. The lash struck her instead, tearing through the thin fabric of her dress and searing into the flesh of her back.

She barely made a sound.

The pain was sharp but fleeting, nothing compared to the agony she had already endured.

The werewolf sneered as laughter rang out once more. "Suit yourself," he scoffed, before clicking his tongue and kicking his horse forward. "We should reach camp by nightfall. Try not to die before then."

The soldiers rode ahead, their jeers fading into the distance.

Sorayah remained still for a moment, her breathing heavy, her back throbbing from the fresh wound. Slowly, she straightened, gripping the wheelbarrow's handles once more.

Her body was battered, her skin marred by bruises, her limbs trembling with exhaustion. Yet she pressed forward, every aching step burdened by the weight of the wheelbarrow.

Because she refused to abandon the girl inside it.

Lily.

Her childhood maid. Her best friend.

All along the road, human bodies lay discarded, left to rot under the unforgiving sun. More had collapsed during this march, some from hunger, others from sheer exhaustion. None were spared mercy.

But Sorayah had sworn that Lily would not be one of them.

She would not fall. She would not yield.

Not until the blood debt was paid in full.

A gruff voice soon rang out from the front lines. "We're here!"

At first, Sorayah barely registered the words, her focus still locked on the dust-covered ground beneath her aching feet. But as the realization settled in, she slowly lifted her head.

Rows of tents stretched out before her, their canopies swaying slightly in the evening breeze. The werewolf battle encampment loomed ahead, its presence almost surreal. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread, the rich aroma twisting her stomach into a knot of hunger.

A slow, exhausted smirk ghosted across her lips.

"I made it."

Even when her body had threatened to give out earlier, she had forced herself to move forward. Now, at last, she stood on enemy soil.

Sorayah took a slow, steadying breath before turning to one of the guards. Her voice, hoarse from thirst, barely made it past her cracked lips.

"Please… can I get some medicine for my friend? She's gravely injured."

Her long, arched eyebrows lifted in silent plea, her expression raw with desperation. But the werewolf soldier merely scoffed, his sharp eyes narrowing in amusement.

"Medicine? For a slave?" He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just let her die. It's not like it'll make a difference."

Sorayah clenched her fists.

No!

She refused to accept that.

Dropping to her knees, she pressed two fingers against Lily's wrist. The pulse beneath her fingertips was faint, too faint. Weaker than before.

If she didn't act soon, Lily wouldn't make it through the night.

Pleading with the werewolves was pointless. She knew that now. They didn't care whether she or any of the other captives lived or died.

She bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. If only she could get away, just for a moment, she could use her healing magic. But that was a risk she couldn't afford to take. Not here. Not when she was surrounded by enemies.

The werewolves were still searching for the missing prince of the human kingdom, the prince rumored to be born with seven divine gifts.

But what no one knew was that the prince had never existed.

It had been a princess in disguise all along.

If they saw her use her abilities, her secret would be exposed. They would either turn her into a pawn for their war or kill her outright. Death itself did not frighten Sorayah. But she had made a promise.

She would not rest. Not until every drop of blood spilled was avenged.

A soldier's voice cut through the camp, dragging her back to the present.

"Listen up! You'll all be taken into the tent in groups of seven to meet the general. He wants to inspect you before we leave for the palace. Who knows? Some of you might even end up warming his bed."

A few guards chuckled darkly at that.

"But be careful with your heads," the soldier added, his tone laced with cruel amusement.

Sorayah barely had time to process his words before rough hands grabbed her. She was shoved forward, along with six other women, their bodies thrown to the ground like discarded scraps.

Pain shot through her palms as they scraped against the dirt, but she barely reacted.

Around her, the other captives trembled, their gazes fixed downward, too afraid to even look at their captors.

"Go in!" the soldier barked.

The six women scrambled to their feet and rushed into the tent, driven by terror and instinct.

Sorayah, however, remained where she was, her gaze locked on Lily's still, unmoving form.

The soldier's eyes darkened. He took a step toward her, unsheathing his sword. "Are you deaf?" he growled.

She barely spared him a glance. She'll be fine… for now. The werewolves wouldn't waste their time killing an unconscious girl. Not when she was already on death's door.

Sorayah pressed her lips together, her jaw tightening in determination. I just need to hurry.

Even if she couldn't use her magic here, she would find another way. She would steal medicine. She would sneak out and gather healing herbs if she had to.

But she would not let Lily die.

Before the soldier could reach her, she pushed herself to her feet and dashed into the tent.