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.

Jana's fingertips were still an inch away from Caleb's skin when a blast of hot air hit her palm.

It was like hitting an invisible wall. She was thrown backward, stumbling a few steps, her wrist stinging as if she'd been slapped.

Caleb took a step back from her, his face twisted in absolute disgust. "Don't touch me," he said, his voice like grinding ice. "You make me sick."

Jana froze. The rejection was so blunt, so unexpected, that she stood there with her mouth open, her hand still hovering in the air.

She quickly recovered, assuming he was just playing hard to get. She pushed her chest out further, the feathers of her dress rustling. "If you become my mate, I'll prioritize you every heat cycle. I'll give you the strongest cubs in the tribe."

The surrounding males groaned in envy. That was the highest honor a female could offer.

Cora watched the scene unfold from Caleb's side. A small, petty part of her wanted to see if the big, bad wolf would fall for the busty bird.

Caleb didn't even look at Jana's offered assets. He leaned in slightly, his nose wrinkling. "You stink," he said flatly.

The words dropped like a bomb.

Jana's face contorted. "What did you say? I bathe in flower water every day!"

"You stink," Caleb said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Too many males. Foul."

A few snickers escaped from the crowd.

Jana's face turned purple with rage. She pointed a shaking finger at Cora. "You'd rather have a barren stick than me?"

Caleb's patience snapped.

A wave of pure, terrifying energy exploded from his body. It wasn't just killing intent; it was the aura of a high-tier beast. The pressure slammed into the crowd.

The males closest to him dropped to their knees, gasping for air. Jana was hit the hardest. She collapsed onto her hands and knees, her face pale, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps like she was being crushed by an invisible boulder.

"Insult her again," Caleb said, his voice echoing unnaturally, "and I'll rip your tongue out."

He held the pressure for a second longer, making sure Jana understood the reality of the threat, then reeled it back in.

He turned, scooped Cora up into his arms-one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back-and grabbed the sack of fruit. He walked out of the clearing, heading toward the mountain path, not sparing the tribe another glance.

Cora, nestled against his chest, looked back over his shoulder. Jana was still on the ground, coughing and glaring after them with impotent fury. A small, satisfied smile touched Cora's lips.

But as they left the noise of the tribe behind, entering the quiet of the forest path, her smile faded. She looked up at Caleb's profile. His jaw was set, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

He had just humiliated the most powerful female in the tribe for her. He had claimed her as his own. But why?

The path grew steeper, winding up the mountainside. The trees here were quieter, the air cooler.

"You can put me down now," Cora said softly. "I can walk."

Caleb ignored her. His arms tightened, pulling her closer against his chest.

"The ground is rough," he said. "It will hurt your feet."

Cora stared at him. He was still naked, carrying her and a heavy sack like it was nothing, worried about her feet.

"Why did you do that?" she asked. "Why did you refuse her? She was... offering a lot."

Caleb stopped walking. He looked down at her, his ice-blue eyes softening. The fierce warrior was gone, replaced by something earnest and intense.

"Because you are my mate," he said simply. "My only one."