Page 16 of Scars of His Wrath

To her far right, a herd of horses stood, tails swishing and feet stomping. She peered closer as one of them turned slightly. They weren’t horses. Their bodies were a similar shape, but slightly bulkier, and their hooves flared out wider with chunkier legs. Their tails were thin and tapered into a curling, tufty end, but it was their heads that set them apart. Ears about twice the length of her small hand stood erect on their heads and curved to a point at the top. They had no long, flowing manes, but short spikes of hair that stood erect along the back of their necks. Their faces were slightly longer than normal horses, and their snouts curved underneath them, making the lower half of their heads look like hooks.

Naya watched them for a moment, hardly believing what she was seeing. They chewed and stomped their wide feet like horses, but they were something else entirely. Next to them on the ground, bags, sacks, and boxes were stacked into a pile, and light-clothed people moved to and fro, grabbing an item and walking out of view.

Naya kept her eyes on them, twisting to look where they were going behind her.

A cluster of huge tan-colored tents sat on the sand, and people hurried between them, almost like a small sand camp. Naya exhaled, shock pushing breath out of her lungs. Where was she?

She carefully twisted on her bottom so she could face the camp, wincing at the slight tightening of the bands around her bruised back.

The tents were different sizes, but all of them loomed over her like they’d risen from the ground and were growing toward the sky. They were nothing like the tents she’d used when trekking across Ashens’ mountains. The style was unusual with patterns along the fabric where the roofs met the walls. They looked sturdy, like they’d been standing for a long time, their deep tan color making them seem like they’d been crafted from the golden sand they sat upon. The only tent that stood out was a huge white one, further back in the middle of the camp and mostly obscured by the others.

Naya tried to find the direction she’d come from. Surely she hadn’t just been in a tent? Inside had been dark, but the wall she’d been against had felt like stone—too solid and strong to be a fabric tent wall. But all she could see in front of her were rows of tents, most of them closed. She had to have come out of one of them.

She eyed the people moving about, trying to wrangle her unease that they hardly made a sound. The camp was busy, but there was an undercurrent of urgency in the way they moved. No one really spoke, it was as though they all knew what needed to be done. They were all dressed similarly—unusually designed tunics, but in shades of brown, tan, and white colors. Most had material wrapped around their heads and faces, but their skin colors ranged more than their clothing—from the darkest brown to the lightest ivory.

Some carried various items inside the tents, others worked on the tents themselves, others were squeezing material soaked with water over the strange horses.

With people moving about so quickly, she couldn’t tell how many there were, if they were warriors like the beast, or if they were all Alphas, but there had to be at least thirty by her estimation.

Something niggled in the back of her mind about the strangeness of it all. She couldn’t see what lay behind the tents, but in every other direction a vast desert landscape stretched far into the distance lit a bright, bold sun.

Her attention shifted to the fabric bands along her forearms, examining them now that she could see them clearly. Dark red wide strips, the ribbed texture stretched easily. They didn’t look like anything special. Other than the pressure they exerted when she moved away from what they pinned her to, they were comfortable.

She pulled at the edge of it with her fingers to see if she could pull it off over her hands, but it tugged on her skin, stuck fast like it had been glued rather than wrapped.

The man with the knobby plant had easily unwound it when he treated her, so it could be removed. She just had to figure out how to do it. If she tried to rip it off, it would probably take her skin and a good chunk of her arm with it.

Naya sent her awareness into the fabric. She sensed a moderate amount of magic in them, nothing she couldn’t easily disperse, but it had been woven strangely, closed-off, and not open to instruction. Multiple times she tried to grab hold of it, command it under her control, but it didn’t respond. It were as if it wasn’t there, even though she could feel and witness the effects of it. No magic she knew of behaved like this. It was as though this magic had a foreign language that didn’t respond to her own.

After trying repeatedly, she exhaled through gritted teeth and looked up, locking eyes with the beast. He stood a few feet from the horse-like creatures, his arms crossed and his hair tied back. She couldn’t see his face clearly from this distance but his size and stance made him instantly recognizable. No one else was watching her so overtly.

He was at least twice as big as her, possibly three times. He was definitely stronger and very likely skilled with a weapon. But he wasn’t quicker. It was doubtful he’d have been able to catch her if she’d had the space to really run back in the forest. It was possible he’d underestimated her ability to fight. He hadn’t planned on being stabbed or elbowed, and he’d probably protect himself better in the future. But it was good to know that there were at least some sensitive points on his body she could attack if she had the opportunity.

Although he’d worn dark clothes in the forest and when he’d sat hidden in the tent with her, he was now dressed similar to the people of the camp—a long light-colored tunic and loose pants, which contrasted his dark sand-colored complexion. The people of the camp moved around him like he wasn’t there. It wasn’t clear if he was the leader of the camp, or a second-in-command, or a mercenary, but she got the feeling he wasn’t insignificant.

The beast eyed her with the same unrelenting intensity that he had in the tent. He made no attempt to approach her and seemed content to let others work in this heat while he did nothing except try to intimidate her from afar.

Naya snorted and turned away.

The people were moving quicker now with urgency, but she couldn’t tell why. In this kind of flurry, she should be able to escape without being noticed but where could she escape to? She didn’t know what lay in any direction, and she’d have no way to hide with nothing to shield her across the sandy landscape that stretched out as far as she could see. Not ideal.

Suddenly she realized that almost everyone had disappeared inside a tent.

Naya straightened, taking stock of her surroundings again. What was happening? The only people outside were those leading the strange horses across the sand and into one of the huge tents where the cloth “door” had been hitched up. The horses seemed comfortable, and the action seemed practiced.

Once they were all in, the sides of the tents fell down, encasing all the horses within and obstructing her view. Across the camp all of the tents were closed, either from a curtain being pulled across or from the sides of the tent being loosened so it could fall back into place.

Only one tent remained open. The white one.

The beast stood in the opening, arms crossed, still watching her.

Naya shifted to her knees, panic rising in her throat as she looked around. Were they leaving her here to be eaten by some wild animal? Was she being sacrificed to another camp? It made no sense for so many people to disappear at the same time while leaving her out here secured to a rock.

No one and nothing appeared. It was almost deathly quiet, with a silent blurry haze coming over the horizon. But within a few moments, the rock she was leaning on began to burn. Naya yelped and tried to shuffle away from the heat, but the force of the bands kept her in place. Carefully, she fixed herself so her skin didn’t touch the rock, only the bands.

But that wasn’t the only problem.

The sun’s heat bore down increasing in intensity, scorching her skin. Sweat trickled down her face and gathered under her arms. The air got so thick, it felt as if she was suffocating, and the sand underneath her was almost unbearable to sit on.