The forest parted on the third day of the march.
The great expanse of ancient trees lay behind them now, giving way to rolling steppe where the wind road freely and the horizon blurred into a shimring haze. Here, on the border between the lands of the Forest Clan and the khanate, the air carried a different scent—wormwood, dry grass, and sothing uneasy that kept the beastfolk on edge.
The column stretched out in a long line. Three hundred warriors—wolves, lynxes, bears, badgers—moved in near silence, without unnecessary noise. Björn rode at the head with a dozen of his best fighters, blazing the trail. In the center, protected by the main force, ca the supply wagons and the wounded.
Amanda rode beside Mia.
It had beco her place by default. Every morning the she-wolf appeared next to her, took her hand, flashed that smile that turned Amanda’s insides upside down, and simply didn’t let go. She never asked if the Reaper (Amanda) wanted her company. She just claid what she considered hers.
“You’re quiet today,” Mia said, leaning closer. Her tail swayed and brushed against Amanda’s leg—a gesture that had beco familiar over the past three days. “Even quieter than usual.”
“I need to think.”
“About what?”
“About what awaits us in Kara-Shahar.”
“There will be war,” Mia replied simply. “And we’ll be in it. You, , Father, the whole clan. Kaelan is waiting for us.”
“You know Kaelan?”
“No one really knows him,” Mia shrugged. “He ca out of nowhere. They say he was a slave in the stone quarries. They say he escaped when the mine collapsed. They say he found sothing there that made him… different.”
“Different?”
“Strong,” she looked at her. “Very strong. Our clan isn’t marching to him because we believe in his cause. We’re going because he promised us land. A ho. A place where we won’t be hunted like wild beasts.”
She spoke calmly, but Amanda heard steel in her voice.
“And if he’s lying?”
“Then we’ll leave,” Mia smirked. “Or we’ll stay and take his land for ourselves. We’re strong enough.”
She said it so casually, as if talking about a trip to the market. Amanda looked at her—at that smile, at the tail swaying in ti with the horse’s steps—and once again thought: What have I done?
“Torglin,” she whispered.
“I’m here, girl.”
“You heard? About Kaelan.”
“I heard,” the dwarf’s voice was tense. “I don’t like it. ‘Found sothing in the quarries.’ Sounds like a fairy tale for fools.”
“Or it could be true,” Amanda countered. “There are things in this world I don’t understand. Maybe he really did find sothing.”
“Then we need to be careful,” the dwarf said. “If he has power, and that power has driven him mad, we’re at a disadvantage.”
“I know.”
She fell silent, staring down the road. Sowhere beyond the horizon waited a man who might be her brother. Or soone else entirely.
By evening they reached the dried-up riverbed where Björn decided to make camp. The beastfolk set up their tents, lit fires, and soon the sll of roasting at spread through the area.
Amanda sat apart from the others on a stone at the edge of the camp, gazing into the darkness. The red lenses of her helt didn’t blink, making her look like a statue silently watching over the steppe.
“Alone again?” Mia’s voice ca from right beside her.
Amanda didn’t turn. She had already gotten used to the she-wolf appearing wherever she wasn’t expected.
“I like the quiet.”
“You’re lying,” Mia said, settling down on the stone next to her. She crossed her ankles, her tail curling neatly over her lap. “You just don’t like it when people stare at you. But everyone does. You’re the Reaper. You defeated Thor. You’re my husband. Of course they stare.”
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know,” she smiled. “That’s why I like you.”
She reached out and touched his pauldron. Lightly. Without asking.
Amanda didn’t pull away. She had already realized it was pointless. Mia took what she wanted and never asked for permission.
“Are you always like this?” Mia asked. “Closed off. Wary. Like the whole world is against you.”
“The world is against .”
“Nonsense,” she smirked. “The world doesn’t care about you. You’re the one against the world.”
Amanda turned her head. The red lenses of her helt fixed on the silver she-wolf sitting so close that her shoulder nearly brushed against the black armor.
“Are you always this sure of yourself?”
“Always,” Mia didn’t look away. “I’m the chieftain’s daughter. I’m a warrior. I chose my own husband. What do I have to fear?”
“That I’m not who I seem to be.”
Mia tilted her head. Her ears twitched.
“Then who are you?”
Amanda fell silent. The words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t tell the truth. Not now. Not here. Not to this girl who looked at her like she was the center of the universe.
“I don’t know,” she said at last.
Mia watched her for a long mont. Then she smiled and took her hand.
“Then we’ll find out together,” she said. “I’m in no hurry.”
She squeezed Amanda’s fingers, and Amanda felt sothing warm bloom in her chest. Sothing she refused to na. Sothing that was never supposed to appear.
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“Shit,” she whispered once Mia had left for the campfire.
“Exactly, girl,” Torglin added, still invisible.
“She’s going to kill .”
“She won’t kill you,” the dwarf’s voice sounded strange. “She loves you, girl. For real. I haven’t seen eyes like that since…” He trailed off.
“Since what?”
“Since the heir looked at you,” the dwarf said quietly. “The sa longing. The sa certainty. Only this she-wolf… she won’t wait. She’ll take what she wants.”
“I know,” Amanda said, watching Mia laugh by the fire with the warriors. “And that’s what scares .”
That night, what Amanda feared most finally happened.
She was sleeping — for the first ti in many days she had allowed herself to close her eyes, sensing that Torglin and Leo were sowhere nearby. She slept in her armor, as always, leaning her back against a tree.
And she woke to the feeling of soone removing her helt.
“Don’t move,” Mia’s voice was quiet, but it rang with steel.
Amanda grabbed her wrist. The she-wolf’s fingers were already under the edge of the helt, lifting it slightly.
“What are you doing?” Amanda’s voice ca out hoarse with fear.
“I want to see your face,” Mia answered simply. “I’m your wife. I have the right to know who’s under all this iron.”
“I made a vow.”
“A vow?” Mia smirked. “What kind? Not to show your face until you’ve killed a hundred enemies? You’re almost there already.”
“This isn’t a joke, Mia.”
“I’m not joking either,” she didn’t let go of the helt. Her fingers were strong and confident. “You’re my husband. I want to see your eyes. I want to know who you are. I have that right.”
They stared at each other in the darkness. Red lenses against amber eyes glowing in the night. Neither backed down.
“If you remove the helt,” Amanda said, her voice growing quiet, almost pleading, “you won’t accept .”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
Mia looked at her for a long ti. A very long ti. Then, slowly, she withdrew her hand.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll wait. But not forever.”
She sat down beside him, pressing her back against his shoulder. Her tail wrapped around his arm like a chain.
“You’re strange, Reaper,” she said. “You’re stronger than any warrior I’ve ever seen. You saved . You saved my people. You defeated Thor. And yet you’re afraid to show your face.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Liar,” she yawned, making herself more comfortable. “You are afraid. Not of death. You’re afraid of being seen. Soone hurt you, didn’t they? Soone you showed your face to… and then sothing happened.”
Amanda remained silent.
“Am I right?” Mia asked.
“Go to sleep, Mia.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“And I won’t.”
She smirked and closed her eyes.
“Alright, Reaper. Don’t answer. But rember this: when you’re ready to show your face — I’ll be right here. And no matter what it is, I won’t turn away.”
She fell asleep within a minute. Her breathing grew steady, and her tail relaxed. Amanda sat motionless, feeling the warmth of the she-wolf pressed against her shoulder, and wondered how she was going to escape this trap.
But she didn’t know how.
On the sixth day of the march, they reached the river.
It was a rare stroke of luck in these lands — wide, slow-moving, with water so clear it sparkled in the sunlight like molten glass. The beastfolk, worn out by the steppe’s heat and dryness, rushed toward the water with joy. So watered their horses, others waded in themselves, laughing and shoving one another.
Björn announced a halt for several hours — the road ahead lay through open steppe, and this was the last water before Kara-Shahar.
Amanda stood apart, watching the commotion. Her horse, also exhausted by the heat, strained toward the water, but she held him back, unwilling to move closer. Too many people. Too many eyes.
“Aren’t you going to drink?” Mia’s voice ca from behind her.
Amanda turned. The she-wolf stood a few steps away, her silver hair damp — she had already taken a dip. Droplets of water traced down her neck and collarbones, disappearing beneath the collar of her leather jacket. Her tail, wet and heavy, swayed lazily. For a second, Amanda’s heart stuttered — or was it the male mind trapped in her female body?
“I’ll drink later,” Amanda said uncertainly.
“Liar,” Mia smirked. “You haven’t drunk since morning. I’ve been watching.”
She stepped closer and took the horse’s reins.
“Go on,” she said, nodding toward the river. “I’ll stand guard and water the horse myself.”
“Mia…”
“Reaper,” her voice grew firr. “You’ve been in that armor for six days. You barely sleep. You hardly eat. Have you even taken that helt off once during this ti?”
Amanda stayed silent.
“Thought so,” Mia sighed. “Take it off. Drink. No one will see. I’ll cover for you.”
“You said you wanted to see my face.”
“I do,” she smiled. “But not like this. Not when you’re dying of thirst. Take it off. I’ll turn away.”
She turned her back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her tail went still, her ears pricked forward — she really wasn’t looking.
Amanda hesitated. Everything inside her scread that this was a bad idea. But her throat was parched, her lips cracked, and even the mithril armor felt like a blazing furnace right now.
“Torglin,” she whispered.
“I’m here, girl.”
“Watch her. If she turns…”
“Got it.”
Amanda chose a spot where the bank was overgrown with tall reeds, hiding her from the camp. Then, very slowly, she raised her hands to the helt. The tal shifted. She removed it.
The air hit her face — warm, humid, carrying the scent of the river and grass. Amanda closed her eyes for a mont, feeling the wind brush against her skin, her hair, her neck. The wig — black, coarse, made of horsehair — sat tightly, concealing her real hair. She took a sip, then another, and another. The water was cold, almost icy, and she drank greedily, without stopping.
“You’re beautiful,” a voice sounded behind her.
Amanda froze. The waterskin she had been filling slipped from her hands.
She spun around.
Mia stood three steps away. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but her eyes… her eyes were fixed on the Reaper’s face, and there was no mockery in them. No triumph. There was sothing else. Sothing that made Amanda’s breath catch.
“I told you to turn away,” Amanda breathed out. In her real voice. Female. Genuine. Imdiately terrified that Mia would recognize the voice and realize she was a woman despite the male wig.
Mia paid no attention to the voice. She was looking at the face.
The black hair of the wig framing high cheekbones. Delicate, almost aristocratic features. Eyes — large, red, frozen in horror. Lips, cracked and slightly parted in shock.
“I knew it,” Mia whispered. “I knew you were beautiful. But I didn’t think… it would be this much.”
She took a step forward. Amanda backed away until her spine pressed against the horse.
“Mia, wait…”
“You took off the helt,” Mia continued, approaching slowly like a predator in no hurry. “You showed your face. Do you know what that ans?”
“I didn’t… I just wanted to drink…”
“You showed your face,” Mia repeated, stopping just one step away. “You are my husband. And a husband does not hide his face from his wife.”
She reached out. Her fingers touched Amanda’s cheek — softly, almost weightlessly. Amanda shuddered but didn’t pull away. She couldn’t.
“You’re trembling,” Mia said, tracing her fingers along the cheekbone, the edge of the wig, down to the neck. “Afraid?”
“I…”
“Don’t be afraid,” Mia whispered.
And she kissed her.
It wasn’t the light kiss against the helt she had allowed herself before. This was sothing else entirely. Her lips pressed against Amanda’s with demanding, hungry force. Her hand slid to the back of Amanda’s head, fingers gripping the wig and pulling her closer. With her other arm, she wrapped around Amanda’s waist, pressing their bodies together.
Amanda tried to push her away. She really did. She planted her hands on Mia’s shoulders, attempting to create distance, but the she-wolf was much stronger. Years of battle had turned her muscles into steel beneath her clothes.
Mia didn’t let go. She deepened the kiss, and Amanda felt her lips part under the pressure, felt the she-wolf’s tongue slip inside, tasting, exploring, claiming.
Amanda couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her arms went weak, her fingers loosened, and she hung helplessly in Mia’s embrace, like a doll.
Mia pulled her even closer. Her tail wrapped around Amanda’s leg, her fingers pressed into the nape of her neck, her lips refusing to release.
When she finally pulled back, Amanda could barely stand. Her face was burning, her breathing ragged, her lips swollen. Tears stood in her eyes — from shock, from lack of air, from sothing else she refused to na.
Mia looked at her. Her amber eyes burned with fire, her tail swaying slowly and victoriously.
“Now you’re truly mine,” she said, running her thumb across Amanda’s lower lip. “Rember that. You’re mine. And no one will take you from .”
She smiled, picked up the fallen helt from the ground, and held it out to Amanda.
“Put it on, Reaper,” she said. “I don’t want anyone else seeing your face. It’s only for .”
Amanda took the helt with trembling hands. Her fingers wouldn’t obey, and she dropped it twice before finally managing to put it on.
Mia watched her, and in her eyes was love. Real, hungry, possessive love.
“Torglin, you son of a bitch,” Amanda whispered when Mia turned away to call the others.
“Sorry, girl. I was drinking beer from my flask and didn’t notice her sneaking up,” the dwarf’s voice sounded strange. Strained.
“You saw?”
“I saw,” he coughed. “We both saw. Leo’s in the bushes right now, red as a beet.”
“She… she kissed .”
“I noticed.”
“I couldn’t push her away. She’s stronger.”
“She can wrestle a bear to the ground, girl,” Torglin remarked philosophically. “What chance did you have?”
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