And he appeared bored.

That was all I saw before frenzied Korwahk girls, calling out in their strange language, closed in front of me, jumping up and down like they were at their favorite boy band concert.

“He doesn’t intend to take a wife this Hunt, thank the Gods,”

Narinda breathed at my side and her relief was so great, it communicated itself to me. I relaxed and she moved us forward hurriedly but I could tell she was trying to make it not look hurried.

Then I did something stupid. I don’t know why I did, but I did.

When we were passed the dais and the girls started to circle me again to deflect the attention the warriors were giving me, I looked back at the savage Korwahk king.

And when I did, I looked right into his dark, painted eyes.

Oh fuck!

I twisted back around swiftly and sucked in breath.

“Circe?” Narinda called, hearing my breath even over the drums.

“He saw me,” I whispered.

“What?” she asked.

“He saw me!” I cried. “The Dax!”

Her eyes got big and she cried in return, “Oh no!”

I shut my eyes tight.

“All right, all right, my lovely, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he –” she tried, clutching my arm.

“He did,” I whispered as we moved beyond the avenue of warriors into another sea of onlookers.

She gripped my arm. “Maybe he didn’t.”

I nodded. “Maybe he didn’t,” I said softly.

But he did.

Chapter Two

The Claiming

One warrior slashed out with his enormous sword cutting open the warrior who had chained himself to my necklace, the warm spurt of blood splashed across my front, I screamed and jumped away as the warrior attached to me dropped, lifeless, to the ground.

Narinda had not told me about the Hunt. She had not told me that the warriors would fight each other for their brides. You could hear the grunts of men everywhere, the clash of steel, the howls of pain, the roars of victory.

You could also hear the cries of women, most were in surprise, some fear, some distress, some were in ecstasy mingled with the groans of men finding sexual release.

All of it coming at me from all directions in the dark night.

It was a nightmare. It was a nightmare’s nightmare.

This was the third time I’d been caught, tackled to the hard ground by a warrior who threw himself off a horse to do it. He then took the end of the chain around his waist and hooked it to my necklace and then he started wrestling me, fights I knew I’d lose because all of them were inhumanly strong and stinking men, I might add, so already stronger than me. Then they’d be challenged by another warrior (once two). Then they’d battle, sword against sword, knife against knife, fists against flesh and the only thing I had to be thankful for was that the chain was long and every warrior who hooked it to me shoved me well out of the fray.

The others had given up, though, by batting the victorious warrior on the head seeming not all that bothered then they unchained my chain, remounted their steed and took off into the night.

This warrior had killed the man chained to me.

I backed up, trying to drag the massive, inert warrior I was attached to with me as the new warrior stalked toward me, his eyes intense, his body scarred more than most, his face, even only lit by

the moonlight and the faraway torchlight of the Daxshee, ferocious and mean. I knew instantly, as I panted and yanked at my chain, dragging the motionless warrior with me as the new one prowled toward me, that although I didn’t want any of them, this one I really didn’t want.

Then he tossed his sword to the side and rushed me. Before I could get my feet to turn my body, his heavy weight was flying through the air. It hit me and I went down to my back, the wind knocked out of me, his weight now on top of me.

I struggled for breath and thrashed beneath him as he unhooked the chain at my neck and hooked his own, completely immune to my flailing.

Once he had his chain connected to me, his head turned to me. I stilled a second at the cruelty easily read in his eyes, his hand went between us, he shoved one of my legs aside and I shrieked in his face, bucked with everything I had, by some miracle he went up and I pushed him over, scuttled from under the rest of his body, made it to my feet, my hands going to the chain at my neck to try and unhook it and I ran.

I got four steps before my chain was yanked viciously. I flew back and landed hard and painfully, ass to stone.

Whipping around on my behind, one of my hands going to the hook at my necklace and fumbling with it, the other going to the chain to hold on and give myself some slack as he yanked it again, pain piercing through my neck where the necklace dug in and my bottom was dragged across the rock toward him.

God, he was reeling me in like an animal.

What the fuck did I do to get transported to this hellhole?

“No! ” I shrieked, tugging hard at the chain and then we both heard hoof beats.

My head turned, my heart clenched, my stomach dropped and I stared at the Dax astride a huge, dark-colored horse bearing down on us.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

The warrior chained to me roared in fury, pulled out both knives from the sheathes at his waist, took a battle stance but the horse kept coming, it came fast, so very, flipping fast and the rider clearly wasn’t going to dismount.

He didn’t.

At the last instant, his muscular arm came up, he tore the sword out of the scabbard across his back and with a almighty downward strike, the second his horse jumped the chain connecting me to the warrior, with a spark and hiss of steel against steel, the chain was severed and I flew back, again, on my fucking ass.

The other warrior again roared his fury, this time, if it was possible, it was clear his fury was seriously furious as the Dax instantly rounded his horse in a tight circle and charged the standing warrior.

Oh shit.

Forget this crap. I was out of there.

I got to my feet and I freaking ran.

I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea what was out there. And I didn’t care.