Caleb stood up. He didn't seem to feel the cold or the mud. He just stood there, every inch of him on display, completely unselfconscious.

Cora averted her eyes, her face burning. "I am not yours," she snapped, clutching the remnants of her dignity. "I'm not an object. I'm a person."

Caleb looked down at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He didn't argue. He just turned and walked over to the massive corpse of the tiger beast.

He grabbed one of its hind legs with one hand. The beast had to weigh several tons. Caleb's back muscles bunched and flexed. With a heave that sent dirt flying, he dragged the entire carcass across the clearing. His feet dug trenches into the soil as he pulled it effortlessly toward Cora.

She swallowed hard, watching the display of impossible strength. The man had just dragged a monster the size of a truck like it was a heavy suitcase. Arguing with him about human rights seemed suddenly very pointless.

He dropped the leg and walked back to her. He crouched down, turning his back to her. "Get on," he ordered.

Cora stared at his broad back. "I can walk."

"On," he repeated, more firmly this time.

She hesitated. The idea of pressing her body against his naked back was mortifying. But the look he threw over his shoulder told her he wasn't asking.

Before she could make a decision, he reached back. One long arm wrapped around her waist. The world spun. She found herself slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her stomach pressing into the hard muscle of his deltoid.

"Put me down!" she shrieked, pounding her fists against his back. It felt like hitting a wall of iron.

Caleb just chuckled. The vibration rumbled through her body. He grabbed the tiger's leg again with his free hand and started walking.

The jostling motion was making her nauseous. She kicked her legs, but he held her secure. "Let me go! I have rights!"

Her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud, embarrassing growl.

Caleb stopped walking. He turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against her hip. "You are hungry."

It wasn't a question. The annoyance in his voice was obvious, but it was directed at himself. He was angry that he hadn't fed her yet.

"I want cooked food," Cora said quickly, seeing an opportunity. "Not raw meat. Cooked. Over a fire."

Caleb frowned. "Cooked?"

"Yes. Fire. Heat. No blood." She mimed roasting a marshmallow, feeling ridiculous. Her stomach cramped again, a sharp reminder of how long it had been since she'd eaten. She thought of the trail mix and dried mangoes she'd packed for Yosemite—probably still in her daypack, wherever that had ended up. She hadn't seen it since she'd opened her eyes in this nightmare. Maybe a beast had dragged it off. Maybe it was still lying in the ferns where she'd first fallen. Either way, it might as well have been on the moon. "And fruit," she added, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Something sweet. Do you have fruit here?"

Caleb filed the request away with the same grave seriousness as a battle plan. He stared at her for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "Cooked. Fruit. "

He dropped the tiger leg and adjusted her on his shoulder, securing her with both arms. Then he started running.

The forest blurred past them. He moved at an inhuman speed, leaping over fallen logs and dodging trees with a grace that belied his size. The wind whipped Cora's hair into her face. She had no choice but to wrap her arms tightly around his neck to keep from bouncing off.

As they neared the tree line, the dense canopy began to thin. Caleb slowed his breakneck pace. Without missing a stride, he stooped and seized the tiger's hind leg in his free hand. The enormous carcass lurched forward, gouging a deep furrow through the ferns and undergrowth as he dragged it the final stretch.

The trees began to thin. The smell of woodsmoke hit her nostrils.

They emerged from the forest onto a rocky plateau. Ahead of them, built into the side of a cliff, was a sprawling camp. It looked like something out of a fantasy movie. Huge tents made of animal skins, bonfires, and rough-hewn wooden structures.

Standing guard at the main gate were two men. They were bare-chested, wearing only loincloths and covered in tribal tattoos. They held long spears.

One of them, a man with a sharp, hooked nose, stepped forward. His eyes widened when he saw Caleb, then nearly popped out of his head when they landed on Cora draped over his shoulder.

"Halt!" the guard barked, though his voice wavered. "Toll for entry, wanderer. Leave the beast and the female."

His eyes roved over Cora's legs and the curve of her waist with a greedy, lecherous hunger.

Caleb didn't even slow down. The temperature around them dropped. The killing intent that rolled off him was so thick Cora could taste it.

He didn't put her down. He didn't stop running.

He just kicked out.

His foot connected with the guard's chest. There was a sickening crunch of ribs. The guard didn't even scream; the air was knocked out of his lungs too fast. He flew backward like a missile, crashing through the heavy wooden gates and skidding across the dirt road inside.

The camp went silent.

Hundreds of eyes turned toward the entrance. Several guards raised their spears, ready to swarm the intruder. "Hold!" a raspy voice echoed. An elder covered in gray furs stepped out from a large tent. His sharp eyes darted from the broken gate to Caleb, and finally settled on the massive carcass trailing behind him. A Fourth-Tier beast. The elder swallowed hard, raising a hand to signal the guards to stand down. A battle here would cost too many lives. Seeing the path clear, Caleb walked through the shattered gates, carrying Cora and dragging the massive tiger carcass behind him like a king entering a peasant village.

Cora looked around. Every male in the camp was staring at her. Their eyes were wide, hungry, and predatory. Some were licking their lips. Others were clenching their fists.

She closed her eyes and buried her face in Caleb's back, a cold knot of dread settling in her stomach. She had just entered a village full of wild beasts, and she was the only piece of fresh meat.

The camp erupted.

Whistles and catcalls broke out from the crowd of males. They surged forward, forming a loose circle around Caleb and Cora. Their eyes were glued to her, roaming over her modern clothing, her pale skin, her unusual features.

Cora shrank back, pressing herself tighter against Caleb. She had never felt so exposed, so much like a piece of meat in a butcher shop.

Caleb stopped in the center of the clearing. He let out a sharp, piercing howl. It wasn't human; it was the sound of a wolf asserting dominance. The sound wave hit the crowd, and the men closest to him staggered back, clutching their ears in pain.

He dropped the tiger carcass. It hit the ground with a heavy thud, sending up a cloud of dust. He gripped her waist and lifted her smoothly off his shoulder, setting her down on her feet in front of him. Before she could stumble or step away, he pulled her tight against his side, one arm wrapped securely around her waist.

"She is mine," Caleb declared, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. He stared down the crowd, his eyes promising violence to anyone who challenged him.

The males took a step back, cowed by the display of power and the sheer size of the kill. But their eyes still lingered on Cora.

A short, plump man with a ledger pushed through the crowd. The Trading Officer. His eyes weren't on Cora; they were on the tiger.

"A Fourth-Tier mutated saber-tooth," the officer breathed, practically drooling. "The pelt alone is worth a fortune. The crystal core..."

"Trade," Caleb said shortly.

The officer looked up, startled. "You want to trade this? For what?"

"Food. Fruit. The best you have."

The officer's eyes flicked to Cora, then back to the tiger. A Fourth-Tier beast for some food? It was a steal. "Ten fat sheep! And a basket of fresh cloud berries!"

Caleb nodded. He didn't care about the value. He only cared that Cora said she wanted cooked food and fruit.

The officer snapped his fingers, and a group of males rushed forward to haul the carcass away. Caleb's arm shot out, palm raised, stopping them in their tracks. His free hand dropped to his belt—Cora hadn't even noticed the crude knife sheathed there—and he drew the blade. He carved a thick slab of meat from the tiger's hindquarter, the knife slicing through sinew with practiced ease. Only then did he jerk his chin at the waiting males, dismissing them to drag the rest of the carcass to the butchering shed. He wrapped the fresh steak in a broad green leaf plucked from a nearby bush and tucked it into the sack of fruit that a slave had just delivered.

The officer lingered, trying to peer around Caleb at Cora. "Where did you find a female with such strange coloring? Is she from the eastern tribes?"

Caleb shifted his body, blocking the man's view entirely. His lip curled in a silent snarl.

The officer got the message and scurried away.

Just then, the crowd parted again. A woman sauntered in.

She was tall and curvy, wearing a dress made of brilliant, iridescent bird feathers that left little to the imagination. Her hair was elaborately braided, and she walked with the confidence of someone who owned the place.

Jana Cline.

She was used to being the center of attention. She was the most fertile female in the mountain tribe, and she wielded that power like a weapon. But today, no one was looking at her. Every male eye was fixed on the strange, pale girl hiding behind the wanderer.

Jealousy, hot and ugly, flared in Jana's eyes. She marched right up to Caleb, puffing out her chest and giving him her best seductive smile.

Caleb didn't even glance at her. He took the heavy sack of fruit from a returning slave and checked the contents.

Jana's smile tightened. She couldn't stand being ignored, especially not for someone like Cora.

"Look at her," Jana sneered, pointing a manicured finger at Cora. "She's so skinny. A strong wind would blow her away. She'd never survive a breeding season, let alone give you strong cubs."

The crowd murmured. The males, who had been momentarily distracted by the trade, looked at Cora with renewed doubt. In this world, a woman's worth was tied directly to her fertility.

Cora looked at the venomous woman, her jaw clenching. She wanted to snap back, but she knew she was out of her depth here.

Caleb's arm tightened around her waist. He turned his head slowly, his icy gaze settling on Jana like a physical weight.

"Scram," he said. The single word was laced with lethal intent.

Jana flinched back, but her pride wouldn't let her retreat. She looked behind her at her primary mate, Flint, a hulking brute with arms like tree trunks.

Flint stepped forward, his face red with anger. "You dare speak to my mate like that, wanderer?"

He threw a punch, a wild, powerful swing aimed at Caleb's jaw.

Caleb didn't let go of Cora. He didn't even step back. He simply twisted his upper body, the fist whistling past his ear.

Before Flint could recover, Caleb drove his knee upward. It connected with Flint's solar plexus with the force of a freight train.

Flint's eyes rolled back in his head. He spat out a mouthful of saliva and crumpled to the dirt, unconscious.

The entire clearing fell dead silent. Flint was one of the strongest warriors in the tribe, and he had been put down like a misbehaving dog in a single move.

Jana stared at her fallen mate, her face draining of color. She looked up at Caleb, the seduction gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated fear.

Caleb's cold gaze swept the crowd. His arm remained locked around Cora's waist, his grip unyielding. One by one, the lingering males dropped their eyes. Satisfied that the immediate challenge had passed, he loosened his hold just enough to let her breathe. He set the heavy sack of fruit at his feet, freeing his hand. Cora took a half-step to the side, grateful for the sliver of space, though his palm found the small of her back and stayed there—a silent, proprietary warning to any male who might get ideas.

Jana's face burned with humiliation. The males in the crowd were no longer looking at her with desire; they were looking at her with barely concealed smirks. Her strongest mate had been defeated in one hit.

She couldn't let this slide. Her status in the tribe depended on her dominance.

She straightened her spine and stalked toward Cora, her high-heeled boots clicking on the hard-packed earth. She stopped inches away, looking down her nose at the smaller girl.

"Where did you get those strange clothes? Did you crawl out of a garbage heap in the lowlands?" Jana's voice was dripping with venom.

Cora took a deep breath. She was terrified, and just a moment ago she had sworn to keep her head down. But the sheer venom in the woman's voice crossed a line. The modern, independent New Yorker in her refused to be bullied like a helpless victim. "What I wear is none of your business. At least I don't need to put others down to feel important."

Jana's eyes widened. No female in the tribe dared to speak back to her like that.

Then, her gaze dropped to Cora's wrists and neck. A cruel smile spread across her face.

"Look!" Jana shrieked, pointing at Cora's bare skin. "She has no mate marks! She is unclaimed!"

The crowd gasped. In this world, an adult female without a mate mark was an anomaly. It meant she was either barren or cursed.

The males who had been eyeing Cora with lust suddenly stepped back, their expressions shifting to suspicion and disgust.

"No mark means she can't handle male energy," Jana declared loudly, her voice carrying across the clearing. "She's a barren waste! Useless for breeding!"

Breeding? Mate marks? Cora's mind spun. What kind of twisted, animalistic society was this? The terminology sounded like she had stumbled into some bizarre wildlife documentary.

The words hit Cora like a physical blow. She saw the change in the crowd. The desire was gone, replaced by the cold calculation of men looking at a defective product.

Caleb's body went rigid. The air around him grew heavy. He took a step toward Jana, his hand rising, fingers curved like claws.

He was going to kill her.

Cora saw the intent in his eyes. If he killed Jana, the whole tribe would turn on them. She had to do something.

She twisted under his palm and threw herself against his arm, grabbing onto it with both hands, hanging on with all her weight.

His head snapped toward her, his eyes wild with the urge to protect.

"That's right," Cora said, her voice shaking but clear. She looked Jana dead in the eye. "I can't have children. I'm barren."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, the males in the crowd let out a collective sigh of disappointment. They turned away, losing interest instantly. A beautiful female was worthless if she couldn't produce offspring.

Jana blinked. She hadn't expected Cora to agree with her. The wind was completely taken out of her sails. If Cora was barren, she was no threat to Jana's status as the tribe's queen bee.

Jana's sneer melted into a look of dismissive pity. "Pathetic," she muttered.

Then, her gaze shifted from Cora to Caleb. She didn't immediately move. Her calculating eyes swept over his towering, muscular physique, lingering on his broad chest and the absolute raw power radiating from him. Then, she looked at the remains of the Fourth-Tier beast carcass being hauled away behind him. The realization of his immense value hit her. Greed washed over her face, quickly followed by a predatory lust. A new kind of hunger lit up her eyes. Caleb was clearly a powerful warrior. A Fourth-Tier beast killer. And he was stuck with a useless female.

Jana smoothed her feather dress and sashayed over to Caleb, ignoring Cora completely.

"A strong male like you shouldn't be wasted on a barren stick," Jana purred, trailing a finger down her own collarbone. "I can give you what she can't. Strong cubs. Pleasure."

She reached out, her fingers aiming for Caleb's chest.