She stepped forward.
Not back. Not away.
Forward, directly into their line of sight, into the space between the three men and the rest of the crowd.
All three of them froze.
Nyx's mind: ฅᨐฅ'What is she doing? She needs to get back, get to safety, why is she moving closer—'ฅᨐฅ
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'No. No no no. She's too exposed. If Darius tries anything, if the crowd panics, she'll be right in the middle of—'ฅᨐฅ
"Enough," Faelyn said, voice steadier than she felt. "I'm not going ANYWHERE with anyone until I understand what's actually happening here."
The crowd quieted slightly, confused by her sudden boldness.
Darius's eyes narrowed, but he looked more intrigued than angry now. "The little blessed one has a voice."
Faelyn ignored the condescension and looked him dead in the eye. "You want me to go with you? Fine. Explain why. What makes you think I'd choose you or this clan over any other?"
That clearly wasn't the response he'd expected.
His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Because," he finally said, recovering his arrogant smile, "you deserve to be with the strongest clan, blessed one. And I am the strongest warrior in the Sunpelt Leopards." His gaze slid mockingly to Roshan. "Not our... benevolent chief who prefers signing treaties to actually fighting for what's his."
A younger male near the front of the crowd spoke up, voice uncertain. "Elder Mira, isn't there a law about this? About unclaimed females?"
A commotion rippled through the crowd as people parted to let someone through.
A heavily pregnant woman appeared, waddling forward with obvious difficulty. She looked to be in her late twenties, with warm brown hair, golden leopard ears she obviously chose to keep visible, and a belly so swollen Faelyn wondered how she was even walking. Behind her trailed six small children, all clinging to her worn leather skirt.
Four girls, all with golden leopard ears and wide, curious eyes. The oldest looked maybe seven, the youngest barely three. And two boys, slightly older, with the same golden ears and mischievous expressions.
'Six kids. SIX. And she's pregnant with another one. Holy shit.'
The woman's expression when she looked at Faelyn wasn't exactly hostile, but it wasn't welcoming either. More like wary. Calculating. Like she was assessing competition.
'Oh. Oh no. She thinks I'm a threat. She thinks I'm going to take mates away from the clan. Away from other females who need them.'
Faelyn's stomach twisted uncomfortably.
'Is this why they're so desperate for females? Are they literally breeding them constantly to try to fix the ratio? This poor woman looks exhausted.'
The pregnant woman didn't say anything, just stood there with her children, watching with sharp, intelligent eyes.
Every head turned to the small, ancient healer standing near the front.
Mira stepped forward, and despite being half the size of every male present, her presence commanded immediate silence.
"There is," she said, voice carrying across the clearing with surprising strength. "Any unmated female has the right to choose her mate. Or mates, if she so wishes. No male, regardless of strength or status, can claim her without her consent."
Faelyn's chest loosened slightly. 'Okay. So I have a choice. That's good. That's—'
"HOWEVER," Mira continued, and Faelyn's relief died instantly. "If a female remains unclaimed for more than three moon cycles, any male of sufficient strength may challenge for the RIGHT to court her."
'Three moon cycles. Three MONTHS. I have three months before I become a prize in some barbaric fighting tournament?!'
The pregnant woman shifted, one hand going to her swollen belly, and Faelyn caught the way she looked at the gathered males. Not with fear, but with something like resignation. Like she'd been through this before. Like she knew exactly what it meant when a new female showed up.
'More competition for mates. More mouths to feed. More children to raise. No wonder she doesn't look thrilled to see me.'
[Yep!] Puffball chirped unhelpfully. [Better start deciding fast!]
Before Faelyn could process that nightmare, Roshan spoke, and his voice had completely shifted. Gone was the gentle, worried tone. This was Chief Mode, full authority, zero room for argument.
"Then there is no issue," he said coldly. "The female has just arrived. She has three moon cycles to choose. Until then, she is under MY protection as a guest of the Sunpelt Clan."
Darius's smirk returned. "YOUR protection, benevolent Chief? Or are you claiming her for yourself?"
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'Say yes. Just say yes. Claim her right here, right now, and end this. But she's scared. Confused. I can't force a bond on her just to win a political argument. I won't do that to her—'ฅᨐฅ
"I'm claiming the right to offer her safety and hospitality," Roshan said carefully, each word measured. "As is my duty as Chief to any guest in our territory."
Nyx, who still had Darius's wrist in a death grip, finally spoke. His voice was pure ice. "And as the Panther Chief who helped rescue her from a feral beast, I ALSO claim the right to offer protection."
The clearing exploded.
"He can't do that!"
"This is OUR village!"
"The Panther Chief has no authority here!"
"He's trying to STEAL our female!"
"This violates the truce!"
The pregnant woman pulled her children closer, as if shielding them from the chaos. One of the little girls started crying, and the woman bent down awkwardly to comfort her, belly making the movement clearly painful.
Faelyn watched her struggle and felt something twist in her chest.
'This is what they want from me. This is what "blessed by the gods" means. They don't see a person. They see a womb. A way to fix their population problem.'
The shouting escalated, males yelling over each other, some stepping forward aggressively, others trying to pull them back.
Faelyn's head spun with the noise and the chaos and the thoughts of both chiefs spiraling in her skull.
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'This is falling apart. I'm losing control of my own clan. If I don't establish authority now, Darius will use this to undermine everything I've built—'ฅᨐฅ
Nyx's mind: ฅᨐฅ'I don't care what they think. I don't care about their stupid territorial rules. She's not safe here. She's NOT safe with these—'ฅᨐฅ
'I need to stop this. Right now. Before someone actually gets hurt.'
And then, like a lightning bolt of terrible inspiration, an idea hit her.
A lie.
A big, stupid, desperate lie.
"What if I'm already claimed?!" Faelyn shouted over the chaos.
Dead silence.
Every single person in the clearing turned to stare at her.
Even the crying child stopped mid-sob.
Darius laughed, sharp and mocking. "You expect us to believe—"
"I was traveling with someone," Faelyn said, building the lie as fast as her brain could construct it. "Before I lost my memory. I don't remember who they were, or where we were going, but there could be a mate mark somewhere."
"Then show us your neck," Darius challenged. "Mate marks are always on the neck."
Faelyn's brain scrambled. "Are they? For someone blessed by the gods?" She gestured at her white hair. "I'm clearly different from everyone here. Who's to say the normal rules apply? The mark could be anywhere on my body." She crossed her arms. "And it's not like I'm going to undress for all of you to inspect me. I'll wait for my memory to return. If there's a mate out there, hopefully they'll come looking for me."
It was flimsy. Absolutely transparent.
But it bought her time.
The pregnant woman's expression shifted slightly. Not quite relief, but something close to it. Like maybe if Faelyn already had a mate, she wouldn't be competition after all.
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'She's lying. She has to be lying. There's no way she has a mate. The bond I feel toward her wouldn't be forming if there was someone else. I would feel it. Wouldn't I? Unless... could there actually be someone? No. No, that's impossible—'ฅᨐฅ
Nyx's mind: ฅᨐฅ'Clever. She's buying herself time. But if she really does have a mate somewhere... I wouldn't be feeling the way I'm feeling the moment I saw her. It doesn't work like that. She's lying. But why? To protect herself? Or because she doesn't want either of us?'ฅᨐฅ
Elder Mira studied Faelyn with those ancient, knowing eyes, and Faelyn could tell the healer saw straight through the lie.
But Mira didn't contradict her.
"If that's true," Mira said slowly, deliberately, "then the female must be given time to recover her memory. To search for her mate, if he exists."
Darius looked like he wanted to argue, jaw clenched so tight Faelyn thought his teeth might crack.
But he couldn't challenge the Elder without losing face in front of the entire clan.
"Fine," he spat, finally wrenching his wrist free from Nyx's grip. "Three moon cycles. But if no mate comes forward to claim you..." His gaze raked over Faelyn's body one last time, predatory and possessive. "Then you WILL choose. And I suggest you choose wisely, blessed one. Not all of us are as soft as our dear Chief."
He turned and stalked away, several males following in his wake, muttering amongst themselves.
The pregnant woman lingered a moment longer, her sharp eyes meeting Faelyn's. There was something in that gaze. A warning, maybe. Or just exhaustion from a life spent bearing children in a world that desperately needed more females.
Then she turned and herded her six children away, one hand protectively on her swollen belly.
The crowd slowly dispersed, shooting curious and suspicious glances at Faelyn as they went.
Roshan looked like he wanted to say something, mouth opening and closing, but nothing came out.
Roshan's mind: ฅᨐฅ'I should talk to her. Explain things. Make sure she's okay. But what do I even say? "Sorry my clan member threatened you and suggested you be shared like property"? Gods, this is a disaster—'ฅᨐฅ
Nyx was still standing there, red eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her want to squirm.
Nyx's mind: ฅᨐฅ'She's not safe here. I need to take her back to my village. But Roshan won't allow it. And forcing her would only make things worse. But leaving her HERE with Darius and who knows how many others thinking they have a right to—'ฅᨐฅ
"Come, child," Mira said, breaking the tension. She grabbed Faelyn's wrist with surprising strength. "You need rest. And we have much to discuss."
She started pulling Faelyn away from the clearing, away from both chiefs who looked like they wanted to follow but were held back by pride and politics and the weight of their positions.
Faelyn let herself be led, grateful for any excuse to escape the suffocating attention.
They walked in silence through the village, past curious stares and whispered conversations, until they reached a small dwelling built into the trunk of a massive tree. Herbs hung from every available surface, and the air smelled like medicine and earth.
Mira pulled her inside and shut the door firmly behind them.
The silence that followed was almost as oppressive as the chaos had been.
Faelyn stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, suddenly very aware that she was alone with someone who definitely knew she'd been lying.
"Sit," Mira commanded, pointing at a cushioned mat near the floor.
Faelyn sat.
Mira busied herself with preparing something that smelled vaguely like tea, her movements efficient and practiced.
"That was a dangerous gamble, child," she said without turning around.
"I know."
"And a lie, I suspect."
Faelyn didn't answer.
Mira sighed and turned, carrying two clay cups filled with steaming liquid. She handed one to Faelyn and settled onto a mat across from her.
"Three moon cycles won't be enough," Mira said quietly. "Not with what you are. Not with what's coming."
"What's coming?"