Page 28 of X'nath

A niggling of fear rose up in me as I watched Erin, so small and delicate. She had a soft, trusting way about her, and I couldn’t help but worry—what if Greag’s flirtations were just a show? He was so much bigger than her, so much stronger. What if, in a moment of frustration or anger, he took out his emotions on her? Who would protect her then? The thought gnawed at me, and though I tried to shake it off, I couldn’t quiet the concern in my mind. Erin might be growing fond of him, but I wasn’t sure if she realized the danger that sometimes lurked beneath that rugged charm of all these men.

"You’re making a mistake," I said, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. "We know what they want from us, Sophie. Meeting their tribe only confirmed my thoughts. They don’t have enough women, so they brought us here. But we can’t just blindly trust them. It’s not that simple. What happens if we can’t give them what they need? What will they do with us then?"

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I knew deep down that some of the fear I felt was my own insecurity projecting onto the situation. It was inevitable that one by one,each woman here would slowly integrate in this new life, among these people. And that meant creating relationships, nurturing them, and having families.

They all had young wombs that would probably repopulate this clan. And me? I ground my teeth together, not wanting my mind to go there.

Sophie lifted her chin, her expression determined. "It’syouwho’s making a mistake by not trusting them, Gracie. We’ve been through enough. It’s time we accept this new life, or we’re going to drive ourselves mad with suspicion. We’ve got to move on." She stood up, her voice rising. "I’m not going to let fear dictate my life anymore. I’m done with it."

Her words stung, cutting through the air like a blade. For the first time, she looked at me with accusation, and I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t expected Sophie to be the one to stand up to me, but there it was. And while part of me was angry, another part couldn’t help but understand. She was tired. We were all tired of living without purpose.

Salma and Kelly exchanged uncertain glances, and I felt the weight of their silence. They weren’t ready to speak out, but I knew they were thinking about it. Sophie was the first to voice what the others were probably feeling deep down: a yearning for normalcy, for connection, even if it meant risking the unknown.

I sighed, the bitterness rising in my throat, thick and heavy. The words I wanted to say seemed to hang in the air, caught between my chest and my tongue, unwilling to leave.

"I’m just trying to protect us," I muttered, but even to my own ears, the words felt hollow. Empty.

Sophie didn’t look at me. She just turned her gaze to the open doorway of our communal home, where the cool air of the evening brushed past us, carrying with it the scent of what we now come to associate with Savage Claw Clan. There was a quiet finality in her stance, her shoulders set.

"You’re protecting us by keeping us stuck, Gracie," Sophie said, her voice calm, but there was an edge to it. "You can’t stop us from living. It’s not that we’re not grateful for the strength you’ve given us. We are. We would have never survived the swamps without your quick thinking. But…" She paused, her fingers brushing against the doorframe, almost as if trying to steady herself before what she was about to say. "It’s time, you know?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and a heavy weight settled in my chest. She was right, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. I refused to, at least not out loud. Part of me was still clinging to the denial of our situation, pretending that by holding onto the fear, I was keeping us safe, keeping us together. I’d been using that fear to justify everything—the way I tried to control our fate, the way I kept them from moving forward. It wasn’t fair to them, and slowly, the guilt started to eat at me, eating away at whatever certainty I had left.

I felt my throat tighten, and the weight of my own thoughts pressed harder against me. "I don’t want to see you all hurt," I whispered, the vulnerability in my voice feeling like it echoed in the stillness between us. "You guys are all I have."

Sophie was silent for a moment, her gaze still fixed on the open door, but I could see the way her shoulders slumped slightly—like a small release of pressure. "We understand, Gracie," she said, her words soft, but firm. "All of us. But staying trapped in that fear, pretending it’s the only thing keeping us safe—it’s not living. We can’t let the past control us anymore. We have to move forward. We all need to find our place here, and I think—" She paused and looked over at me, her eyes softening. "I think we can. But you have to let go of that control, Gracie. You have to trust us to make our own choices, even if that means things won’t be as safe or certain as you want them to be."

Her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, I just stood there, paralyzed by the weight of it all. I wanted to protect them. I wanted to keep them safe, keep them from harm, but perhaps in doing so, keeping myself safe from having to face what I knew was going to be my fate here.

I didn’t have the answers. I couldn’t see what the future held. But as I looked at Sophie, and then at the others, it became clear to me that nothing I said now would change anything. Nothing I did could alter the fact that I might not be welcome here much longer. Would the tribe cast me out over something so simple? The fear of the unknown settled deep within me, gnawing at my thoughts. It wasn’t just the uncertainty—it was the weight of not knowing where I stood anymore.

With a deep breath, I nodded, though the uncertainty still lingered in my chest. "I… I get it, Sophie. Just, be careful…" I trailed off, not knowing how to finish. But Sophie didn’t need more words. She simply gave me a small, understanding nod before turning back to the door.

"I think it will be okay," she said again, her voice softer this time, but the words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. She didn’t need me to agree. She didn't need my reassurance. But something about her certainty unsettled me—like she already knew something I didn’t.

And that, more than anything, made me wonder if I had been wrong all along.

17

The Stirring of Doubt

GRACIE

The days bled into one another, and with them, a quiet shift began to take place. I watched as the other women, one by one, started to ease into the life we were building here. It was subtle at first—small smiles, lingering glances—but it didn’t take long for them to fall into the rhythm of this strange, half-formed existence.

Kelly was the first to break after Sophie’s speech. Her interactions with Vakgar had started as cautious exchanges, but I could see it—how her walls came down piece by piece, how the smile she gave him was no longer polite, but warm, sincere. They seemed so different—he was rough, broad, and imposing, while Kelly, though towering over us, was small next to him, with a soft voice and a quiet laugh. But in the moments I caught them together, there was an undeniable tenderness. I almost wanted to look away, but part of me couldn’t stop watching, wondering if this would be one more thing that would slip beyond my grasp.

Then there was Erin who was the most obvious in her response to Karg’s flirtations. Karg was young compared to the others, a bit goofy. So it was no surprise that he had somehowmade her laugh and she’d started to return his advances, slowly but surely. I tried to suppress the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at me each time she gave him that playful smile of hers. What did I care? She was happy. But every time I saw her laugh at something he said, something deep inside me stirred uneasily.

Even Salma, who had been so quiet throughout our journey, began to find a place for herself here. I noticed her one afternoon, speaking with Korrin. The stoic, battle-worn orc who rarely spoke, a man whose eyes held the weight of too many battles. Korrin was rough around the edges, even more reserved than most, yet there was something that seemed to pull Salma in. She wasn’t as easily drawn to the bold flirtations of the others, but when Korrin caught her gaze, she didn’t look away. They had a silent understanding, a quiet connection that none of us could quite understand, but it seemed to work for them.

And then there was me.

I stood on the outside, watching as the others began to pair off, some slowly, some with little hesitation. I could see them falling into this new life, weaving themselves into the fabric of the tribe. It was a slow process, but it was happening. I wasn’t blind to it. I had been here for over a month now, and still, I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for. What had I expected, anyway? The same thing that happened every time women like us came into debt? Stuck in this cycle of survival, only to end up on another ship, shackled and sold like cattle?

A cold shiver ran down my spine at the thought. I consciously reminded myself that we weren’t in that position anymore. There were no ships here. From what I had observed about this tribe, they didn’t engage in the flesh trade.

While I had done my best to hold us all together, something inside me was unraveling as I watched them all find connections while I remained untouched, unsure of how I even fit into this place. As much as I wanted to keep control, I couldn’t ignore thegnawing ache of isolation creeping in. A punishment I had dealt to myself, I was sure.

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