Cool air, rushing into my lungs. A warm body above me. A mouth on mine.

My lungs burned. I choked. Large, strong hands eased me onto

my side. A man. I coughed up what felt like half the river.

I opened my eyes. Above me, the sky was a vibrant blue. Somehow, I was alive. But my rescuer could be a guard who had saved me just so the king could watch me burn.

The man who’d saved my life had a rugged face with deep brown skin and dark, slightly upturned eyes. His nose had been broken more than once, and his scowl told me clearly that he didn’t want to play savior, and he resented me for putting him in that position. It was an impressive scowl.

Not a guard. That didn’t mean I was safe. And yet…he’d saved me. “Ah, thank you. Who are you?”

“My name is Galon.” He touched my cheek, and my body was suddenly dry, my clothes crinkled from the river water but no longer soaked.

I jolted back, staring at him. To have that much power…

I turned at the clop-clop-clop of horses’ hooves. Guards? I scrambled in an attempt to get up, and one of those boat-sized hands pushed down on my

shoulder, easily holding me in place. A group of men broke through the forest. Dressed well, in fine leather boots and thick cloaks. Not guards but not necessarily safe either.

I counted five of them, including the man at my side.

My eyes grew heavy. I was dry now, but I was still freezing.

“You found a selkie,” one of the men said. He grinned at me, his teeth incredibly white against his dark skin. For a man who might be planning to kill me, he had a ridiculously compelling smile.

Galon shook his head. “A village girl. Drowning in the river, Lorian.”

Horses parted, and my mouth went dry as I took in the man Galon was speaking to.

This was the man who continually haunted my dreams. The one who’d snapped at me just yesterday in the village square.

My eyes drank him in. He was a huge man, with broad shoulders and muscles that rippled when he moved. Dark hair fell past his shoulders, a few small braids worked in to keep it off his face. His jaw looked like it could take a punch—and anyone unlucky enough to hit it would break their own bones.

He lifted his hand, shading his eyes. White stripes decorated his knuckles. Scars. He wore several knives and a sword. A mercenary, then. Likely a brutal one. The kind of man who would sell me to the guards the moment he learned they wanted me. Whether he was the type of man who would harm someone who presented no threat to him remained to be seen.

His features were masculine, as if carved from stone, although his high cheekbones gave him an almost feral beauty. He was sickeningly handsome, and I took a shaky breath.

Green eyes met mine, cool and indifferent. I was right. I knew those eyes. And I’d looked into them at the Gifting ceremony.

But how? Why?

We stared at each other for a long moment, and I waited for any glimmer of recognition. How was it possible that I’d dreamed about this man? Was it because he was destined to save my life?

But he was already glancing away. “Leave her, Galon. We don’t have time for this.”

My heart stumbled over its next beat. If they left me like this, I was dead. Not only would the guards be spreading out, searching the forest surrounding my village, but I had no clothes, no food…

“Please,” I croaked.

The beautiful man ignored me, turning his horse. I was so inconsequential that his expression had already turned thoughtful, his mind clearly elsewhere.

I memorized that harshly beautiful face.

My temper burned bright when provoked. But I’d never felt this ice- cold rage before. This need to see someone hurt the way I was hurting.

One day, some way, I’d make him pay. If I lived through this. I’d make him regret leaving me here.

Galon threw me his cloak. If he felt any guilt for leaving me, it wasn’t visible on his face. “Good luck,” he said. He turned and mounted his horse as I made it to my knees.

They rode away. And all I could do was watch them leave, my mind shutting down.

I wrapped the cloak around me, my eyes heavy once more. I had to get up. Had to keep moving.

My eyes drifted shut.

When I finally opened them again, the air had cooled further.

My body felt like one big bruise. I’d lost my thin slippers, and my feet were still bleeding from the many times they’d struck rock.

I hauled myself to my feet, biting back a whimper. The moon was bright, giving me enough visibility here next to the river. But beneath the cover of the forest, I was likely to get hopelessly lost. Panic unfurled in my chest. I couldn’t stay here.

A howl ripped through the night, and I shivered beneath the cloak. I never should have allowed myself to sleep. It was a miracle that I’d woken. That I hadn’t slipped off to a much more permanent sleep.

But I was alive.

And now I had a list of things to achieve.

Most importantly, I had to get away from here, before the guards found me. The fact that they hadn’t stumbled across my unconscious body was a miracle. Since I was sure the gods didn’t habitually provide mortals with such miracles—and since they’d never taken the time to help me before—I needed to take advantage of my good luck.

Tibris would find me. He wouldn’t care that it would put him in more danger. And as much as I wanted to shake him for it, I was swamped with relief at the thought of seeing him again. I couldn’t think of Mama. Of the

king’s guards. Maybe…maybe they hadn’t killed her. Maybe they’d taken her for questioning and Tibris would find a way to free her. We’d all get settled somewhere new.

I just had to get to the city. I’d find Vicer and arrange for notes to be sent to all of our planned meeting spots. While there, I’d research passage out of the city.

We’d find each other again. If there was one thing I knew, it was that my brother loved me.

Except, he wasn’t truly my brother.

My breath caught in my throat, instant denial coursing through my body. No. Tibris would always be my brother, even if we weren’t bound by blood. And he’d expect me to survive. He’d know my only hope was to go to the city, to try to board a ship leaving the continent. Before the king learned that I’d denied the gods what they were owed. Before I was burned as one of the corrupt. But if it became too dangerous, I would leave Tibris here if I had to. He was smart, and he’d be able to lay low. I would make sure he lived even if it meant I never saw him again.

I had a plan. I just had to start walking.

And one day, I’d find the man who’d ordered Galon to leave me for dead. I’d find him, and I’d make him pay.

“We could have helped that woman,” Cavis muttered. I slid him a look. The usually affable man was wearing a dark scowl. Children, women, animals… Cavis had always been obsessed with saving the innocent. And witnessing the Gifting ceremony in the last village we’d visited had put him in a dark mood.

“We did,” I said. “Galon saved her life.”

“And how long do you think she’ll continue to survive out here in the wild? It might’ve been kinder to let her drown.”

I didn’t bother pulling rank when we were traveling together. Those who were afraid to hear any criticism made for piss-poor leaders. Cavis’s pouting made me wish I’d taken a different approach.

“When you rescue half-drowned wildcats, you have to be prepared for them to slash you to ribbons,” I said. The last thing we needed was attention, and a woman who’d somehow ended up in the river would draw far too much of it. She was trouble. I’d known that the moment she’d stumbled into me in her village, almost drawing the assessor’s scrutiny.

A few days spent escorting her back to her village could be the difference between finding what we were seeking and losing it forever. The interest we’d receive from those villagers—and any guards in the area— would also jeopardize our plans once they began asking questions. And realized we were not where we should be.

I surveyed my men. Galon rolled his eyes. Marth grinned, while Rythos just shook his head.

“Pretty wee thing,” Marth said.

She was a pretty wee thing. While she’d been pale, her skin had enough color to tell me she enjoyed spending time in the sun. A wealth of curly white-blond hair had tumbled over her shoulders as she’d glared at me. Her eyes had burned into mine—a strange but not unattractive amber, more gold than brown. Her mouth was lush, with a pillowy bottom lip. That mouth had twisted, her sharp little chin jutting out when she’d realized we were leaving her.

Rythos snorted. “Sometimes it’s a damned shame you’re so cold, Lorian.”

I rolled my eyes. If my brother could hear my men sounding like a group of kindhearted old women, he would mock me ruthlessly.

“Was I the only one who saw through her helpless act?” Rythos gaped at me. Cavis frowned.

I just shook my head once more. The wildcat had been half drowned and clearly bewildered to find herself still alive. But she hadn’t been helpless at all. I’d caught the way she’d sized us up. She likely hadn’t even been aware she’d been doing it. But it had told me that she’d survive just fine on her own. Besides, we didn’t have time to linger on this trip.

Everything I’d worked so hard for was within reach, and I wouldn’t risk it because some village girl had been stupid enough to fall in the river.

A village girl who’d been wearing nothing but a wet white dress, which had clung to her like a second skin. Running my hand over my jaw, I shook my head. Clearly, so many days of traveling were taking a toll.

If I’d had any second thoughts about leaving the village girl, those had been quashed the moment I’d seen the cold retribution in her strange amber eyes.

“Those with nothing left to lose make the most dangerous enemies of all,” I said. I should know.

Rythos’s eyes turned to slits. Clearly, he was on Cavis’s side.

I glanced at my closest friend. “And do you agree with our softhearted friends, Galon?”

He merely frowned. “I liked that cloak.”

My lips trembled as I suppressed a chuckle. One glance at Rythos’s appalled expression and I ruthlessly firmed them. “We need to move faster if we’re going to cross the bridge before sunset. I want a hot meal and a deep sleep,” I said.

Rythos sniffed and faced forward, nudging his horse until he was no longer riding next to me. The man would sulk for days, and he was our best cook. Thanks to the village girl, whatever meat I ate next would either be charred black, raw in the middle, or both.

Heaving a sigh, I urged my own horse onward.