Chapter 1
[Ocshenja]
By the time the sanctuary bound my wrists, I had already broken Wiljon's nose and left deep scratches across Jenkins' arm. Wiljon had reached for me from behind, his rough fingers clamping down on my shoulder like iron talons, and I spun without thinking, driving my elbow upward with the full weight of my body. The sickening crunch echoed through the stone corridor, followed by his choked gasp as blood sprayed across my knuckles. When Jenkins tried to restrain me, I'd twisted in his grip, sinking my teeth into his forearm until he howled in pain.
I remembered Pierre trying to force my mouth open during the last feeding. I had caught his jaw and twisted until it dislocated. He'd screamed, and the others had kept their distance for days afterward. The memory steadied me.
"Restrain her! Now!" The captain's voice cracked like a whip, his face contorted with fury as he clutched his bleeding comrade. "You idiots can't even handle one human woman?"
A raw snarl ripped from my throat as the other guards advanced. I kicked out blindly, catching one in the shin before they finally overwhelmed me. They forced me to my knees, the cold metal of the shackles biting into my skin as I thrashed against their hold.
"Feral bitch," Jenkins muttered, wiping blood from his cheek where my nails had scored his flesh.
They dragged me from what had once been a beautiful room, now reduced to chaos. Heavy mahogany furniture lay splintered, the delicate porcelain shards crunching beneath their boots as they hauled me across the floor. My fingers left trails in the dust that coated the once-polished surfaces of overturned tables and chairs. The silk curtains—once a soft cream—were torn and stained, their remains clinging desperately to the broken curtain rod.
"Get up! Move!" Wiljon shoved me forward, his breath hot against my ear. I stumbled but refused to fall, forcing my legs to carry me through the wreckage of what was supposed to have been my life. A growl vibrated in my chest as I struggled against their grip.
Through the doorway, I caught a final glimpse of the room's destruction: shattered mirrors reflecting my defiant face back at me a dozen times, each image distorted by the spiderweb cracks across the glass. My long dark hair had escaped its bun, tendrils clinging to the sweat on my neck as they yanked me into the corridor.
The captain stepped in front of me, his face inches from mine. "You'll learn obedience, human. One way or another." His breath smelled of stale coffee.
I met his gaze without flinching, my turquoise eyes—which had marked me as unnatural from birth—burning with all the hatred I could muster. I remained silent, as I had for weeks, letting my defiance speak for me.
When I tried to bite again, Pierre forced a rough gag into my mouth, cutting off my snarls and turning them into muffled protests. They shoved me forward again, my shackled wrists scraping against the stone walls as they dragged me toward whatever new hell awaited me. Each step was a battle, each breath a small victory in a war I refused to lose.
"Bind her to the griffin," the captain ordered, his voice cutting through the air like shattered glass. "We can't have her falling off and breaking her neck before we deliver her, even though it is a tempting thought."
They hauled me across the courtyard, my bare feet scraping against rough stone. My legs refused to move as they wanted them to, dragging uselessly behind me like dead weights. I refused to walk, refused to eat, refused to speak—my silence was the only weapon they hadn't stripped from me.
The griffin shifted beneath me, its powerful muscles rippling beneath golden feathers as it sensed my resistance. Its warm breath puffed against my cheek, carrying the sharp scents of feathers, leather, and raw meat.
The captain leaned close, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper that slithered against my ear. "Pray that the Lord of Silverestate takes you in." His breath was hot, foul. "It's your last chance before we leave you at the border to fend for yourself."
I didn't react. Let them threaten. Let them bind me to this creature. They would never break what mattered.
[Dyrfon]
The afternoon's familiar rhythm shattered at the estate's entrance. Two griffins circled once before landing with heavy thuds that vibrated through the training yard fence posts. From my study window, I watched, fingers tightening around the breeding ledger I'd been reviewing. Something about the appearance of our guests was wrong. A jarring combination of crimson and gold that made my eyes ache, though I couldn't quite place why it seemed so out of place here.
Heon burst through my study door moments later, breathless despite his prosthetic leg. His rounded fossa ears were pinned tight against his hair, and his face—usually grim but composed—was flushed with anger. The last time I'd seen him this enraged was during the war, after we'd found those villagers in the mountains.
"Lord Dyrfon," he panted, bracing against the doorframe. His prosthetic leg creaked with the strain, a sound I'd grown accustomed to over the years. "The sanctuary brought someone. It's... complicated." His eyes flicked toward the courtyard where the crimson-cloaked figures were securing their griffins. "They've brought a problem."
I slammed the breeding ledger onto my desk, the leather-bound book thudding against the polished oak. Papers scattered from the impact, but I didn't bother to retrieve them. "Let me guess," I snarled, turning to face my steward, "they've come to demand another one of my finest breeding females for some noble's who wants a pretty pet? Or perhaps they expect me to train some handlers for free again?" The muscles in my jaw clenched as I gestured toward the window where the riders were dismounting.
"This is my estate, not some cheap pet shop." My cougar ears flattened against my scalp, a clear sign of my irritation that Heon would recognize instantly. My tail lashed behind me, thumping softly against the back of my chair.
I moved past him, my boots striking hard against the stone floors. My cougar tail lashed once before I forced it still. The great plaza was already gathering curious onlookers—grooms, trainers, several of my other veterans—all drawn by the unusual arrival. The two riders had dismounted. The ermine, a thin man with perpetually nervous eyes, fussed with the harnesses while the rabbit beastman scanned the crowd, his long ears twitching.
"Lord Dyrfon, I am Beihon, and this is Leoro," the ermine called out, his voice too high and thin for my taste. "We apologize for the intrusion, but..."
Before he could finish, both riders moved toward the griffins, working to unstrap what I now realized was a human figure bound to one of the creatures. The sight sent a horrified ripple through the gathered crowd.
The moment they began to loosen the straps, the woman exploded into motion despite her restraints. Her bound legs kicked out wildly, catching the ermine in the thigh with enough force to make him stumble backward. The rabbit beastman grabbed her arms, but she twisted violently, her muffled screams vibrating through the gag as she fought with all her strength. The leather bindings cut into her skin as she thrashed, her body arching away from their touch.
"Careful!" the rabbit shouted, dodging a kick aimed at his face. "She's stronger than she looks!"
It took both of them several minutes to finally free her from the harness, their movements growing increasingly frustrated as she continued to struggle. When the last strap came loose, they shoved her rather than helping her down. She landed hard on the stone courtyard, her knees cracking against the unforgiving surface. Even then, she fought, trying to crawl away until the rabbit beastman planted a foot firmly on her back, pinning her to the ground.
She went still then, though I could see the tension coiled in every muscle of her body. Pinned there on the cold stones, bound and blindfolded—she looked like a sacrifice being offered to some ancient god. The air grew heavy with unspoken questions.
"What is the meaning of this?" My voice carried across the courtyard, cutting through the murmurs of my staff. "You bring a prisoner to my estate?"
The rabbit beastman stepped forward, his long ears twitching nervously. "My lord, this woman is not a prisoner; she's just... difficult." His foot remained pressed against her back as he spoke. "The human sanctuary of Onglu has exhausted all options to integrate her. We were instructed to either find someone willing to take responsibility for her, or..."
"Or abandon her at the border," the ermine finished, his voice trembling as he adjusted his crimson cloak. "We don't want to, of course, but the orders were clear."
I circled the bound figure slowly, my gaze sweeping over her form. Her dark brown hair had come loose from its bun, strands clinging to her neck despite the blindfold that covered half her face. Even with her features obscured, I could see the tension in her jaw, the slight tremor in her bound hands as she fought to keep still. My cougar ears caught the faint sound of her breathing—shallow, controlled, like someone trying to conserve strength for another escape attempt.
"Difficult?" I halted before the bound figure, my tail striking the courtyard stones. "You bring a human woman to my estate bound like a criminal, and your explanation is difficult? I breed griffins. I don't manage broken humans."
"She has attacked every employee at the sanctuary and counselor assigned to her," the rabbit said. "She refuses food, refuses every placement interview, and has not spoken in weeks. We can no longer restrain her without injuries."
I crouched near her. I could not smell her fear or anger, but I heard the shallow control in every breath and saw the tension in her bound hands. She was conserving strength, not surrendering.
“Humans are supposed to be precious,” I said. The entire purpose of places like Onglu was to house human women while arranging introductions with approved beastmen, not to manufacture obedience. “The sanctuary charges fortunes merely to arrange introductions. Why discard one because she bites?”
