His long white tail dragged behind him, streaked with mud and dark water. His hair was loose over his shoulders. There were cuts along his arms and one across his chest, but none of them looked black or rotten. No infected bite. No dead sickness.

And behind him lay the red-horn marsh bull.

It was enormous.

Bigger than Swanly expected.

Bigger than reasonable.

Its red horns curved forward like blood-stained branches. Its heavy body was covered in thick wet fur, and its legs looked strong enough to kick down a tree. Several Riverbone males stood around it in shock, whispering like they could not believe what they were seeing.

A fresh red-horn marsh bull.

Fresh meat.

In a time when most hunters were too scared to go far from the tribe.

Swanly looked at the animal.

Then at Soren.

Then at the animal.

Then at Soren.

Then at the animal again.

No.

Absolutely not.

He was supposed to struggle.

Maybe be humbled.

Maybe come back empty-handed.

Maybe get chased into a swamp by angry bull relatives.

Soren lifted his eyes to her.

A cold smirk touched his mouth.

He slithered closer.

Swanly stepped back without meaning to.

The air around him felt colder than the night.

"What?" he asked softly. "Did you think I would not survive, little female?"

Swanly’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Kael’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

The movement pulled at his still-healing ribs and sent fresh pain lancing through his chest, but he welcomed it. It kept him from doing something stupid like lunging at the white snake right now.

Soren had done exactly what Swanly asked. He had succeeded where Kael, still half-broken, could not. And the worst part was the tiny flicker of something in Swanly’s eyes when she looked at the massive kill.

Not lust. Not yet.

But interest. Surprise. Respect.

Kael hated that Soren had put it there.

He hated the way Soren looked at her. He hated the way the snake had brought back exactly what she asked for. He hated that Soren was strong enough to do it while he could barely stand.

Most of all, he hated the small flicker of shock in Swanly’s eyes.

Soren’s tail moved around Swanly’s ankle without warning. The scales were cool and smooth, almost silky, but the grip was firm. It slid higher, curling behind her knees and gently tugging her one step closer to him.

The movement was slow, deliberate, almost intimate — like he was testing how much he could take before she or Kael snapped.

Swanly stiffened, heat rushing up her neck.

Kael growled immediately, low and vicious, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. His ears flattened. His tail lashed once behind him. Every instinct in him screamed to rip that white tail off her body.

Soren didn’t even glance at him. His silver eyes stayed locked on Swanly’s face, watching the way her lips parted, the way her breathing changed.

His tail flexed once more, the tip brushing the back of her thigh through her hide clothing in a slow, deliberate stroke.

"Stop wrapping around me like I’m food," Swanly snapped, jerking against the hold.

Soren’s gaze dropped to her mouth again, colder and hungrier.

"You are not food," he murmured, voice soft enough that only she and Kael could hear. "Though I wonder how you would taste if I decided to find out."

Kael took a half-step forward despite the pain in his ribs. Blood was already seeping through the fresh bandages on his chest from the movement.

"You—" Swanly immediately heated up from embarrassment. She could not believe men in this era could be this shameless in public!

She twisted free and stepped back quickly, pressing herself against Kael’s side like she belonged there. Her hand found his without thinking, fingers curling around his wrist.

Kael’s free arm came around her waist at once, pulling her flush against him. He didn’t care that Soren was watching. He didn’t care that half the tribe could see. His mate was in his arms again and that was all that mattered.

His hand splayed possessively over her hip, claws pricking lightly through the hide as he glared over her head at Soren.

Soren’s cold smirk deepened, but he let her go. For now.

The Riverbone people were still staring at the meat.

Swanly looked around.

That was when she really saw them.

The hollow cheeks.

The hungry cubs.

The females holding babies too tightly.

The males pretending they were not staring at the bull like starving wolves.

She could keep the meat.

Technically.

She could put most of it in her space. It would not spoil there. It could feed her, Kael, and the cubs for weeks.

But then she saw a little cub licking its own fingers because it had nothing else.

Her stomach tightened.

Damn it.

She hated having a conscience.

Swanly lifted her voice. "I want a portion for me, my mate, and my cubs. The rest can be shared."

The crowd went quiet.

Soren looked at her.

Raku, standing near the bull with his bone club, looked at her too.

A few females whispered.

"She is giving it away?"

"That much meat?"

"Her mate is injured."

"She has cubs."

Kael looked down at her. Even through the pain still radiating through his ribs, pride burned hot in his chest. His female. His mate. She had every right to hoard the meat for their den, yet she was giving most of it away because she saw hungry cubs.

He shifted closer and let his tail brush against the back of her leg in silent approval. When she glanced up at him, he met her eyes and gave the smallest nod.

She didn’t smile, but her shoulders relaxed against him. That was enough.

Soren had expected many things from her.

Fear.

Greed.

A demand to keep the whole kill.

Maybe the cleverness to dry the meat and save it, because a female with cubs should think of her own den first.

But she looked at hungry strangers and gave away most of the prey she had asked for.

Strange female.

Soft in foolish ways.

Dangerous in others.

Useful in too many.

Soren turned away.

"Raku. Divide it. Her portion first."

The crocodile beastman grunted and started giving orders.

Swanly watched people move toward the meat with disbelief and hunger in their eyes. Something in her chest eased and hurt at the same time.

Then a soft voice came from her side.

"Snow fox female?"

Swanly turned.

A young woman stood a little distance away, holding a small cub against her chest. She was pretty in a tired, gentle way, with soft brown hair, nervous eyes, and small rounded ears that trembled each time someone shouted near the meat.

The cub in her arms looked sick.

Too small.

Too quiet.

That got Swanly immediately.

Because her own cubs were small too.

And if one of them ever looked like that, she would burn a forest down.

The young female lowered her head. "I am Tilla. I wanted to thank you. My cub has not eaten well since we came. My mate died before we reached Riverbone. I have no hunter now."

Her voice broke a little, but she swallowed it.

Swanly’s heart sank.

The cub’s tiny hand clutched weakly at Tilla’s hide top.

Swanly stepped closer. "What is wrong with him?"

Tilla looked down. "Hungry first. Then fever. He cries at night, but now he is too tired."

Swanly felt all the softness in her turn painful.

"I have something that may help."

Tilla’s eyes widened. "Medicine?"

Swanly nodded. "Wait here."

She went back into the cave quickly.

Kael watched her with quiet pride.

He knew that look now. Swanly was about to pull something impossible out of the air and pretend everyone should accept it.

The cubs followed her like three little shadows.

Soren stood inside the cave when she entered.

Of course he had returned silently.

Because apparently snakes also enjoyed appearing where they were not invited.

Swanly ignored him and reached into her space.

Soren’s eyes sharpened.

This time, he saw it clearly.

Her hand disappeared into nothing.

Then came back with a small smooth container.

His body went still.

He had seen the memory. He knew she had another place hidden somewhere around her, but seeing it in front of him made his mind reject it for a breath.

There was no pouch.

No basket.

No den hole.

Nothing.