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."

Cora's heart skipped a beat. The word "mate" sounded so heavy, so permanent. Her cheeks flushed hot.

She looked away, trying to hide her reaction. "I told you, I can't have kids," she muttered, falling back on her shield. "I'm barren."

Caleb let out a low chuckle. The sound vibrated through his chest and into her body. "You think I can't tell when a female is lying?"

Cora's head snapped back around. Her eyes widened. Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. He knew?

He shifted her weight in his arms, freeing one hand. His large, calloused palm slid under her shirt and rested flat against her stomach. The touch was possessive, but gentle.

"Your energy field is weak," he said, his thumb stroking her skin, "but it's pure. Full of life. It's not the dead, stagnant energy of a barren female."

Cora let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. He was using some weird beast-man logic to judge her health. He didn't know about human biology or the fact that she was from another world.

"Even if I could," she said, pushing his hand away, "I'm not having a baby with a wolf I just met."

Caleb frowned. The crease between his brows deepened. "I am not just a wolf. I am Caleb. The strongest warrior."

He started walking again, carrying her up the winding path. He seemed annoyed that she had reduced his identity to just his animal form.

They rounded a bend, and a stone house came into view. It was built into the side of the cliff, half-cave, half-structure. Thick gray stones formed the walls, and heavy wooden stakes created a fence around a small yard. It was isolated, overlooking the valley below.

Caleb kicked the heavy wooden door open. The smell of dry pine and woodsmoke washed over them.

The interior was sparse. A massive stone slab dominated the center of the room, covered in thick, white furs. A fire pit sat in the middle of the floor, with a smoke hole directly above it. It was primitive, but surprisingly clean.

He finally set her down. Her feet sank into the soft fur rug covering the floor. It was incredibly soft.

Caleb walked over to the fire pit. He grabbed a piece of flint and struck it against a rock. Sparks flew, catching the dry tinder. Within moments, a warm fire crackled to life, pushing back the chill of the stone walls.

He reached into the sack and pulled out a handful of the cloud berries. He walked over to a clay jug in the corner, poured water over them in a wooden bowl, washing them carefully.

He brought the bowl to Cora, holding it out like an offering. His eyes were expectant, like a dog bringing a stick to its master.

Cora realized she was starving. She took a berry and popped it into her mouth. It burst with sweet, tart juice, instantly quenching her thirst.

"It's good," she said, her eyes lighting up.

Caleb's face broke into a genuine smile. It transformed his harsh features, making him look almost boyish.

He turned back to the sack and pulled out the leaf-wrapped bundle he had carved from the tiger's carcass at the trading post. He unwrapped the thick, blood-red slab and skewered it on a sharp stick, holding it over the fire.

The flames licked the meat. The smell of roasting fat filled the room.

But Caleb only held it there for two minutes. The outside had barely changed color; the inside was still cold and raw. Blood dripped into the fire, hissing.

He pulled it out and held the dripping, barely seared meat toward Cora. "Eat."

Cora looked at the bloody slab. Her stomach, which had been so happy a moment ago, churned violently. The smell of raw meat made her gag.

"I..." She pressed a hand to her mouth, leaning back. "I don't eat raw meat."