Arilee

ARILEE

I stumbled through the desert, my mantra echoing in my head with each agonizing step. "Freedom or death." The words tasted like sand on my parched tongue.

My swollen ankle screamed in protest. Fire blazed in my lungs. Blurry shapes danced at the edge of my vision. Every muscle begged for mercy.

But I couldn't stop. Not now. Not ever.

"Freedom or death."

The night crawled with unseen terrors. Bloodthirsty beasts? Rokan closing in? Or just the wind playing tricks? It didn't matter. Each sound jolted me forward, fear lending strength to my battered body.

Moonlight painted the landscape in shades of silver and shadow. The temperature plummeted. I had to find shelter soon, or face a grim fate.

A gust of wind erased my tracks. Good. Let the Vinduthi work for his prize.

How much was I worth to Gorin? Enough to set a relentless hunter on my trail, clearly.

Maybe this was all for nothing. Maybe Rokan would drag me back to face Gorin's escalating cruelty. But at least I'd tried.

A painful smile cracked my lips. Whatever the future held, I'd rattled Gorin's cage. That felt like a victory, no matter how small.

The thought of what awaited me if caught chilled my blood. No privacy, no mercy, no hope. But I'd shown Gorin he wasn't invincible. That knowledge would sustain me.

Still, I wasn't about to give up. Rokan would have to earn every credit of that bounty.

Heat flushed my cheeks as I pictured the Vinduthi again. Those piercing golden eyes, that imposing figure. The strange, pulsing markings beneath his skin. If only I'd had more time to work on him, to make him see reason. Hell, I'd have offered myself to him if it meant freedom.

I choked off a bitter laugh, banishing the pointless fantasies. There was only one path forward now.

Freedom or death.

"I'd have fucked him twice," I muttered to myself. Maybe even three times if he'd offered to take me home for a lavish dinner.

My mind, desperate for any distraction from my current predicament, conjured images of his potential living situation. A modest shack on the outskirts of the city? Or perhaps a luxurious apartment with a massive bed and gleaming kitchen appliances?

I indulged in the fantasy of a massive bathtub with heated jets, imagining how it would soothe my aching muscles.

I wondered, half-delirious, if this Vinduthi man – whose life I was inventing in my head – might be in the market for a steady girlfriend.

Reality crashed back as I pressed my lips together and exhaled with a heavy sigh. He probably had a wife already. If there was one thing I knew about Vinduthi, it was their fierce devotion to their mates. I'd once overheard a group of Krelaxian soldiers boasting about how they'd planned to target mated Vinduthi women to destroy the soldiers' morale.

It had backfired horribly, but still the Krelaxians thought the Vinduthi were weak.

And yet this man was willing to work for a Krelaxian? He must have been truly desperate to do so.

That realization stayed with me. A man driven to such desperation wouldn't give up easily. He certainly wouldn't let me go just for a tumble between the sheets.

Hell, he might accept such an offer and still turn me in afterward.

"Bastard," I hissed, my curse swallowed by the silence of the night. Darkness crept over the land as the sun vanished, and an icy chill burrowed into my bones. I clutched the shredded remains of my pilfered coat tighter, a futile attempt to cling to what little warmth remained.

My path led back into treacherous rocky terrain. Each step sent jolts of pain through my battered feet, and my skin prickled at the thought of encountering dangerous creatures in this unforgiving landscape.

I paused for the first time since my escape, mustering the courage to glance over my shoulder. If he'd been there, looming behind me, I might have crumbled entirely.

But the hulking Vinduthi bounty hunter was nowhere in sight. I let myself slow my frantic pace, just a little. If I tried to keep up that speed, I'd never make it out alive.

With measured steps, I took in my surroundings. Tiny rodents darted about, free from the predatory birds that ruled the daytime sky. Their frenzied movements betrayed the presence of nocturnal hunters lurking in the shadows.

I trailed the tiny creatures to a modest pool of water. My parched throat ached. Finally.

I reached for my canteen, only to find empty space. A wave of despair washed over me.

"Dammit!" The curse escaped louder than intended. The canteen must have snagged on that cursed tree during my tumble.

No choice remained. I had to drink now, uncertain when I'd find water again.

I knelt, acutely aware of precious seconds ticking away, and gulped down handfuls of foul liquid. I pushed away thoughts of what might have used this pond as a latrine.

Or worse.

As I reached for another palmful, a sound froze me in place.

Low and quiet, but unmistakable. Every hair on my body stood on end. The growl came from behind, far too large to belong to one of the scurrying rodents.

I turned slowly, careful not to make sudden moves. My gaze traveled upward, and there it was – a Steazel.

My body quaked at the sight. I knew these beasts all too well from Gorin's hunting obsession. He'd proudly display their corpses as trophies, conveniently forgetting the guides who tranquilized and restrained the creatures for his ego.

Ruthless predators, always hungry.

With trembling hands, I retrieved my last ration bar. As desperately as I needed those calories, it was my only hope of survival.

I held out the bar, letting the Steazel catch its scent, then tossed it behind the beast. I prayed it would take the bait, giving me a chance to flee.

I was terribly, horribly wrong.

The Steazel's hackles rose, viscous drool dripping from razor-sharp fangs. It advanced, menacing.

I ran.

I didn't make it far. Of course not. The beast pounced, its weight slamming me into jagged sand and rock. Teeth latched onto my jacket. In desperation, I wriggled free of the garment and clawed forward.

I managed a few pitiful feet before it caught up, having abandoned my shredded coat.

For the first time since slicing through my tracking collar, my resolve shattered. The metallic scent of blood on its fangs and the rumble of its growl crushed what little strength I had left.

I couldn't die like this. Not like this.

"Rokan!" I screamed, knowing he had to be out there somewhere. If anyone could save me now, it was him.

A man with a vested interest in finding me alive and intact was my only chance to avoid becoming a Steazel's midnight snack. "Rokan, please!"

I curled into a tight ball as the beast's jaws descended toward my exposed shoulder, only to hear the sharp yelp of a creature under attack.

I couldn't bring myself to look. In my terror-stricken mind, the Steazel had just fallen prey to something far larger and more terrifying. A sand bear, perhaps. Or even a dreaded lyvern.

Whatever it was, it could surely smell my blood. And once it finished with the Steazel, I'd be next on the menu.