Gabe sat in a cramped, wooden transport carriage, pressed between the other vaisas, their bodies swaying with every jarring movement of the wheels over uneven terrain. They were being taken to the battlegrounds for soldier's pleasure.
The air inside was thick with sweat and unease, the scent of damp wood mingling with the stale odor of bodies that had been confined together for hours. No one spoke. The only sounds were the creaking of the carriage, the occasional grunt of the driver, and the distant hoots of elusive creatures lurking in the forests of Hestros.
The troop was going to war camp on the southern border where King Marcella's troops had joined forces with the Hestrosian army. The invasion had already begun, a slow, calculated march from the south, inching toward the norther to the Capital City, the kingdom now ruled by Victor and Robin.
The journey was grueling. The carriage bumped and jolted as it navigated through thick forests, winding dirt roads, and deserted villages that had been long abandoned due to the war. Shadows of ruined homes passed by, their skeletal remains lay as a reminder of the disaster that befell them.
By the time they reached the border, the sun had long set, casting the camp in an eerie glow of flickering torches and scattered bonfires. The wooden doors of the carriage were yanked open, the rusty hinges groaning in protest. Gabe and the others were shoved out onto the hardened ground, their weary legs barely holding them upright.
The first thing he noticed was the stench, sweat, blood, burning wood, and the rancid odor of unwashed bodies. The camp was a chaotic sprawl of tents, some large and elaborate, likely belonging to high-ranking officers, while others were smaller, simple shelters for the common soldiers.
Fires dotted the landscape, casting long, dancing shadows as men huddled around them. Some were sharpening their weapons, their blades glinting under the firelight; others sat on makeshift stools, eating from wooden bowls, their faces hardened from days of battle. A few simply lay on the ground, their exhaustion so deep they didn't even stir at the commotion.
The soldiers who had noticed their arrival turned toward them, their eyes dark with hunger, not the kind that food could satisfy, but a far more primal, twisted craving.
A broad-shouldered man, dressed in a uniform that marked him as one of the commanding officers, stepped forward. His voice was thick with authority as he announced, "This is your gift, soldiers! These vaisas will keep your spirits high." He grinned, his teeth flashing like a predator about to feast. "High-ranking officers get to choose first."
A roar of approval erupted from the gathered soldiers. Some whistled, others hollered, their excitement echoing into the night like a pack of hyenas circling fresh prey.
Gabe swallowed hard, his stomach twisting with nausea. He had known this would be his fate the moment he had been forced onto the transport, but now that he was here, standing in the middle of this barbaric spectacle, the reality of it hit him like a punch to the gut.
The raucous cheers and crude laughter of the soldiers were suddenly cut short by the sharp bite of a voice, hard, authoritative, and edged with irritation.
"What is going on here?"
A hush fell over the camp as heads turned toward the figure stepping through the flickering torchlight. Deroki's presence alone was enough to smother the excitement in an instant. His imposing frame, clad in dark, intricately woven armor, radiated command. His sharp eyes, illuminated by the fire's glow, swept over the gathering with an unreadable expression. Though his face remained a mask of neutrality, there was a coiled tension in his jaw, a flicker of displeasure in his gaze.
The soldiers scrambled to their feet, their drunken bravado evaporating as they straightened their spines. The commanding officer quickly stepped forward, bowing low before Deroki.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice suddenly subdued, "the vaisas have arrived. The men were merely expressing their approval."
Deroki's jaw tensed. He did not spare even a glance at the huddled group of vaisas, their thin, weary figures illuminated by the scattered firelight. His gaze remained locked on the officer, his voice even but taut with restraint.
"What are they doing here?"
The officer hesitated, glancing around as if hoping someone else would step in to answer for him. When no one did, he licked his lips nervously. "They have been sent to... entertain the soldiers, Your Majesty. To keep morale high."
Silence followed. A slow, suffocating kind of silence.
Gabe noticed Deroki's fingers twitch at his side. "Whose idea was this?" His voice had dropped a note, colder now, more dangerous.
The officer shifted uncomfortably, his throat bobbing as he struggled for an answer. "Uh... well, "
"It was my idea, Your Majesty."
A new voice entered the conversation, thick and gravelly with age yet carrying an unmistakable air of confidence. An older man with a thick, white beard stepped forward, his heavy cloak swaying as he moved. His dark, calculating eyes flickered with something unreadable, something unnervingly smug.
Deroki turned his gaze to the man, his expression remaining neutral but his posture tightening. "Your job is to make war strategies, not find cheap entertainment for my men," he said, his words clipped and precise, like the blade of a knife. Yet, despite the sharpness, there was no real fire behind them, only a carefully concealed anger.
The old man chuckled under his breath. "This, Your Majesty, is part of my war strategy."
Deroki's eyes narrowed.
"You entrusted me with ensuring our victory, and that is precisely what I am doing," the old man continued, stepping closer. His tone was unhurried, almost amused, as if he enjoyed explaining himself. "War is a grueling, bloody affair. If the soldiers have nothing to look forward to, their morale will wither, and their effectiveness on the battlefield will suffer. However..." He let his gaze drift lazily over the vaisas before turning back to Deroki. "If they are given... incentives, something to ease their tensions at the end of the day, they will fight harder. Moreover, sex is a powerful motivator, especially for Alphas. It keeps them sharp, focused. And having beautiful faces around the camp? It is soothing to the eye, don't you think, Your Majesty?"
Deroki's expression did not change, but his hands curled slightly at his sides. "They will be an unnecessary burden when we move our camps."
The strategist merely smiled, as if he had expected this response. "Leave that to me, Your Majesty. I will ensure their presence does not disrupt your plans. You will not even notice they exist."
Gabe, still among the vaisas, clenched his fists as he caught the flicker of mischief in the old man's eyes when he glanced his way. A knowing look, as if he was addressing him.
Deroki exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning. He lifted his chin slightly, his tone flat. "Whatever you say. But if I see the soldiers fighting over them or causing disorder, you send them back immediately."
The old man bowed deeply. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Deroki lingered for a moment, as if considering something, but then with a curt nod, he turned on his heel and strode away into the night, his presence dissipating like a storm passing overhead.
The moment Deroki disappeared into the shadows of the camp, the tight grip of tension eased slightly. Conversations resumed, and the soldiers, emboldened by their ruler's indifference, stepped forward toward the commander, voices eager and impatient.
"When do we get to pick?" one of them asked, his eyes already scanning the gathered vaisas.
"Yeah, when do we get to use their services?" another chimed in, his grin wide and predatory.
Gabe's stomach twisted at their words. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the growing chatter around him. He had no idea how this was supposed to unfold. When Marisel had told him to blend in with the vaisas heading to the war camp, he had agreed without hesitation. It had been the only way to get close to Deroki. But now that he was here, standing among the other vaisas like a piece of meat up for sale, he felt utterly lost.
Deroki hadn't even looked at him.
How was he supposed to reach him if the man refused to acknowledge his presence?
A sharp whistle cut through the air, pulling Gabe from his thoughts. The commander had stepped forward, his voice loud and commanding.
"Jackie, you're the highest-ranking officer here. You get first pick," he announced, turning to a broad-shouldered soldier with a jagged scar running down his cheek.
Jackie smirked, his eyes lazily drifting over the group of vaisas. "Not bad," he muttered, before pointing to a petite, soft faced omega near the back. "I'll take that one."
The commander nodded and jotted the name down. "The rest of you, put your names down and point to the vaisa you want. I'll write it down. When you return from the battlefield tomorrow, your chosen vaisa will be sent to your respective tents."
The moment those words left his mouth, the soldiers surged forward like hungry wolves, shoving and laughing as they marked their claims.
Gabe remained untouched, standing stiffly at the back. He should have been relieved, and yet the uncertainty gnawed at him. If no one chose him, it might mean being sent back. He had no plan beyond getting here. No idea how to maneuver his way closer to Deroki.
Then, just as he began to hope he would be overlooked, a deep voice rang out.
"I want that one."
The words sent a chill up his spine.
A tall figure stepped forward, looming over the others. He was an Alpha, one of the largest and most heavily built men in the camp, with thick arms corded with muscle and a square jaw that made him look more like a beast than a man. His piercing gaze locked onto Gabe with an unnerving intensity.
Gabe's breath hitched.
No.
He kept his expression blank, but his fingers curled into fists at his sides.
From the corner of his eye, he saw another soldier lean in close to the Alpha, whispering something urgent.
The Alpha stiffened before shoving the man away with a scoff. "I don't believe in that bullshit," he snapped.
Gabe knew exactly what had just happened. The other soldier had tried to warn him about Gabe's curse. About what happened to those who got too close.
In any other situation, Gabe might have appreciated the tall Alpha's attempt to deter other guy.
But right now, he wished the Alpha had been more superstitious.
The commander, completely unfazed, scratched down Gabe's name on his sheet. "He's yours for tomorrow night."
Gabe swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.
Tomorrow.
He had no idea what was going to happen and he left everything up to fate.