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me. The future both my parents wish for me to have.

“I’m pleased you have no intention of choosing one of these weak human females,” my father says. “Malis will be a good mate.”

I don’t want Malis. I long for the tiny, mouthy female who survived against all odds. The female with bright-blue eyes who challenges me at every turn.

I glance at my father, noting his eyes are on my face, searching for any hint of weakness.

I ensure my face is carefully blank. “We’ve spoken about this, Father. I have no intention of mating with anyone right now.”

He narrows his eyes at me, and my stomach churns. Beneath our every interaction is an unyielding thread of obligation. I owe my father more than I can ever repay. I owe him everything.

He nods at whatever he sees on my face and then points at Nevada. “Human females were not created to breed with us,” he says quietly. “Rakiz hovers around his queen because he knows the truth. The likelihood of her dying in childbirth is high. I know you would not want to sentence a female to the same fate, Tagiz.”

He slaps me on the shoulder, turning to walk away, and I stare at Nevada. At the large mound of her stomach.

A vision intrudes before I can stop it. Zoey, her face twisted in pain. But this time, instead of coughing, she is writhing, attempting to birth a Braxian baby that is far too big for her tiny body to handle.

I see her eyes fluttering shut for the last time. Because of my selfishness.

Jozet approaches from my left, a few steps away. From the look on his face, he was listening to every word my father said.

“Do you think that’s true?” he asks. “Do you believe the queen will die attempting to bring the baby into the world?”

I’m silent, and he blows out a breath as we both return our attention to the arena.

Nevada winces, stroking her hand over her stomach, and Rakiz breaks off his conversation, immediately stalking to her. She smiles up at him, brushing a hand over his jaw, but now I can see the terror in his eyes.

And I understand it.

Chapter Three

Zoey

I hand my first aid kit to Hewex, waiting while he attaches it to the mishua’s saddle, and then I give him my bag. I haven’t packed much—just a change of clothes in case we need to make camp. Vivian has the broken piece of the thruster, while Sarissa has a sketch and a list of instructions from Alexis.

Jozet helps Sarissa onto his mishua, and I take a moment to smile up at the green sky. Other than my constant trips to the forest, this is my first time leaving the camp since I was brought here, unconscious and barely breathing.

Unlike almost everyone else, I’ve never seen any of the other tribes. I was taken by the Voildi, carried to Sebe, and shoved into a cage.

But today, I’m going on a Braxian boat, across the lake or sea they call the Colossal Water, and I’m even going to see the mysterious king everyone talks about in hushed whispers. According to Vivian, he lives in an actual castle.

If this weren’t such an important trip, I’d probably be doing a little victory dance.

“Take that, you purple bastards. You couldn’t hold me down.”

“What was that?” Sarissa asks from her spot on Jozet’s mishua.

“Nothing.”

She pushes her hair out of her eyes, then turns her head, facing into the wind as she pulls it up into a ponytail. I raise my eyebrow at her elastic hair band, and she notices me looking. “I had it around my wrist when I was taken.”

“Guard it like gold,” I advise her, and she laughs.

“There are like forty women here and approximately ten hair bands between us. Blaire’s snapped the other day, and I thought she was going to cry.”

I grin. Blaire is tough as nails. She’s small and fine-boned, which according to her, comes from her Japanese mother. But I’ve never seen her look anything other than coolly amused.

I glance at Hewex. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

He sends me a shit-eating grin, and the expression is so out of place on his craggy face that I blink at him.

“We’re waiting for one more person,” he says. Then he glances over my shoulder, and that grin widens.

I close my eyes. I don’t need to guess who is standing behind me.

“Laugh it up,” I mutter as Hewex chuckles. “You’re on my shit list now. It’s not a good place to be.”

I open my eyes as he has the nerve to pat me on the head.

“That’s it,” I say. “That thing we talked about? It’s happening now. You owe me.”

“What thing?” a deep voice rumbles behind me.

I ignore that, and Tagiz steps into my space as Hewex helps Vivian onto his mishua.

I turn, taking a step back. I don’t need to be close enough to smell the heady leather-and-male scent of the man who drives me crazy.

“None of your business. What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question.”

He grins at me, and I roll my eyes.

All amusement leaves his expression as he runs his gaze over my body. Unfortunately, it’s not a sexy look. Instead, I can almost hear him wondering if I’m healthy enough to travel.

I turn away. “I’m not riding with him,” I announce.

I yelp as the world turns upside down, and I smack him on the chest as he stalks to his mishua with me in his arms.

“Ooh, you are in big trouble, mister. Huge.” I’m clenching my teeth, but the jerk doesn’t seem at all worried. He ignores me, climbing up onto his mishua with me still in his arms. He helps me turn until I can throw my other leg over the side of the mishua, and I attempt to block out just how good his arm feels as he wraps it around my waist.

For the second time in three days, I’m sitting between

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