With a hideous, drawn-out creak, the old door finally gave way, and I was dragged inside the shabby hut. For all my kicking and cursing, it felt like I'd suddenly unlocked a second wind - I'm sure the whole damn village could hear me by now.

I won't go down without a fight! I'll injure the bastard if it's the last thing I do!

The brute carrying me suddenly stops and, without any warning, throws me down onto a floor covered in rough furs. He looms over me, arms crossed over his chest, muttering something under his breath. I freeze when another male voice joins in.

Turning my head, I spot an old man standing in the far corner of the hut. He's thin and dry as kindling, yet there's something oddly dignified about him as he approaches. Between his lips, he's chewing on a small twig with narrow leaves, rolling it lazily from side to side while studying me with complete indifference.

After a slow inspection from head to toe, the old man rasps something to the giant, and suddenly massive hands grab me from behind, pinning my arms tightly to my sides. I can't even twitch.

The old man steps closer and presses hard on my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. Before I can react, he slips something inside - a small, berry-like thing - then shuts my mouth and holds it closed until I'm forced to bite down.

Ugh, disgusting! It tastes like someone shoved a handful of wormwood in my mouth. The bitter flavor spreads, crawling down my throat and burning as it goes. The brute finally lets go, and I collapse face-first onto the furs.

I'm about to curse him into oblivion when my stomach suddenly twists in agony. A wave of nausea hits so strong it makes my head spin. My whole body burns, every muscle aches, and before I can stop it, I'm retching violently onto the floor.

The old man started saying something, but his words reached me only faintly as I kept retching, practically turning myself inside out all over his hut.

"That's the juice of the aktukha fruit-it makes your brain work differently," he suddenly said. I froze, staring at the old man in shock, realizing that I could understand him now, even as another wave of nausea twisted my insides.

"The sickness is normal," he continued calmly. "Your brain matter produces signals and impulses that let you think, move, and speak. Now, however, your mind can perceive similar impulses in other brains-like mine, for instance. My visual, memory, and meaning signals are being read. The sounds or words I make correspond to certain remembered images and meanings in my head. Your brain catches them, compares them to its own patterns, and translates them into a language you understand," the old man explained, lowering himself onto a stool.

"Every inhabitant of our kingdom takes aktukha from childhood, so that they can understand others-or any beings with similar brain processes and capable of speech. It's the king's decree, meant to prevent communication problems between different peoples and races. Fortunately, you only need to consume the fruit once-the effect lasts a lifetime."

"What do you want from me?" I asked weakly, feeling the nausea begin to fade. My thoughts were clearing, though a fine tremor still shook my body.

"From you? Nothing," the old man replied, his face unreadable, his tone icy. "I am Tákhis, the shaman of this settlement. My task was to make sure you can understand our language-since we already understand yours-and that you can speak before our leader. What happens to you after that is none of my concern. To be honest, I couldn't care less."

His blunt honesty hit me like a slap. I still had no idea what awaited me, but at least now I could understand them-and that was something.

The giant grabbed my arm again, yanking me out of the hut and dragging me deeper into the village.

"Hey! Could you not manhandle me like that?" I protested, struggling against his grip. "You're hurting me!"

"Then stop fighting, and it won't hurt," he said flatly, not even glancing my way.

I realized escape was impossible for now-especially since we were walking into a large settlement bustling with people. So I followed obediently, taking everything in.

The first thing that struck me was how strikingly vivid these people looked. Honestly, it felt like I'd stumbled into a commercial for some luxury brand. Most of them were dark-haired, but there were quite a few women with unusually colored hair. Their eyes, though-that was what truly caught my breath. So many shades, but the most common was a deep, glowing red, like rubies under sunlight. And every one of them bore intricate tattoos-on their arms, across their stomachs, and some even on their chests.

The settlement itself was astonishing. It wasn't exactly medieval as we understand it, though the residents' clothing shared some similarities-while also featuring daringly modern details that looked straight out of a futuristic fashion show.

Every house, except for the shaman's, looked solidly built. I could even see dark-gray brickwork in some walls, and the large windows were decorated with intricately crafted stained glass that stood out beautifully against the darker façades. The roofs were covered with sleek black tiles that gleamed faintly under the sun.

There were no fences between the houses, only clusters of bright, exotic flowerbeds filled with plants I didn't recognize. The road wasn't asphalt, but paved with smooth, sturdy stone tiles that looked almost polished.

Everything around me was fascinating-a strange blend of eras that somehow worked together. It was as if bits of different centuries had collided and learned to coexist in harmony. I would have found it all exciting... if I weren't terrified of what was going to happen to me.

"What's going to happen to me?" I asked, panic rising as I darted my eyes from one villager to another, searching for even the slightest sign of help. But they only stared back, curious and unbothered, clearly not planning to intervene.

The man said nothing, simply kept dragging me forward-until suddenly, a young brunette girl jumped in front of us, clutching some kind of fluffy abomination in her arms. I couldn't even tell what kind of creature it was-it had four hairless ears and a ridiculously furry body covered in dark red fur. Honestly, it looked like someone's nightmare pet.

The girl herself was breathtakingly beautiful, just like everyone else here, with bright pink eyes and full lips the color of fuchsia. Judging by the way her brows furrowed, though, she wasn't too happy at the moment.

"Light of my eyes, who is this girl?" she asked in a thin, sharp voice, glaring daggers at the brute who was dragging me toward what I assumed was their leader.

"Oh, Míko," the man said cheerfully, "this girl is the solution to all our problems. I'm taking her to your father. Thanks to her, we'll finally be able to start a family-and you'll be mine."

"Really?!" Míko's expression lit up instantly. She smiled-one of those flawless, radiant smiles that could melt glass-then giggled, bouncing in place with giddy excitement.

She threw her arms around her lover, gave him a quick, happy kiss, and skipped away, hugging that bizarre red creature to her chest.

Meanwhile, I wasn't exactly sharing in her joy.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" I demanded, staring at the brute in shock. And only now did I notice-he wasn't bad-looking at all. Tall, broad-shouldered, his dark tan skin contrasting beautifully with those ruby-red eyes and well-defined muscles.

"It means exactly what it means," he snorted without even looking at me. "You'll find out soon enough. What's your name?"

"Oh, thanks for asking!" I snapped back, dripping sarcasm. "Isabella. Or Iza."

He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. What a name. Won't do. Around here we don't have such names - you'll be Naziza."

"What?!" I gasped. Well, excuse me, local critic of names!

"And what's your name then, genius?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Dildan," the brunette announced proudly, straightening his back as if he'd just said something glorious.

There was a second of silence-and then I completely lost it. A wild fit of hysterical laughter burst out of me. Oh, he definitely had a sense of humor! Except... apparently, he didn't, because he wasn't laughing.

"Wait- you're serious?!" I choked out between laughs. "Oh my god, that's- that's perfect for you!" I wheezed through tears, barely able to speak.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked, clearly not understanding what was so funny. "Since you're not from here, you should know-I was named after one of our greatest rulers! An unmatched warrior and brilliant strategist!"

"I don't doubt it for a second," I managed, trying to compose myself. "With a name like that, how could he not be great?"

Honestly, I was laughing to keep from crying. Because as we approached a massive black two-story mansion with a wide veranda, my nerves twisted tighter with every step. A few girls, maybe eight or ten years old, were playing there-brunettes with sweet pink eyes, all staring at me with innocent curiosity. Dildan greeted them, and they cheerfully waved back.

We stepped inside the elegant house, and a tall, broad-shouldered man came to meet us. After a brief greeting, he sat down in a large armchair, his commanding presence filling the room. Dildan and I stood before him.

"I'm listening, Dildan," the man said, his deep brown eyes scanning me like an x-ray. "What brings you here, and who is this girl?"

That piercing stare made my skin crawl. There was something in it-aggression, hostility, and a cold sort of judgment that set my nerves on edge.

"Manar, this is Naziza," the brute began, completely ignoring my real name. "We found her wandering through our lands while patrolling the borders. She's a foreigner-and still untouched by any man. That might help us solve the situation with Miko."

First of all - what kind of "situation with Miko" are we talking about?

And second - what does he mean, "untouched"?!

But I don't dare to voice either question when I notice how the chief's gaze changes. He no longer looks hostile - there's curiosity in his eyes now, almost interest.

"You're right, Dil," the leader says thoughtfully, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "She'll be perfect!"

"For what exactly will I be perfect?" I finally find my voice.

"As a candidate to become our king's bride," the ruler announces, and my jaw nearly drops. "Each year, from every settlement across the kingdom's lands, one maiden is chosen as a potential queen for our ruler. For many years now, our king, Karadeylis, has failed to find himself a wife. This time, the scouts of brides chose my daughter, Miko. But you'll replace her. You're young, beautiful, and pure - there should be no problem with the substitution."

"And what's wrong with your daughter becoming queen?" I ask, completely failing to grasp the panic in his voice. I mean, any girl would dream of such an opportunity, and here they act like it's a tragedy.

I notice Dil tense up, letting out a displeased growl, but Manar cuts him off.

"I love my daughters dearly," he says, his tone softening. "And Miko does not wish to share the fate of a queen. She and Dildan are in love - their wedding was already planned before the king's scouts arrived and chose her."

"Well then," I suggest reasonably, "maybe the king won't like her. Maybe they won't have anything in common, and Miko will come back home. I assume there are several candidates, right? So why all the panic?"

"That's for you to deal with now," Manar snaps sharply, his tone rising with authority. "Miko stays here and will be married in a month. Dil, take Naziza to Alaya and assign guards so she doesn't run away. If the werewolves get wind of her, they'll snatch her - and our whole plan will be ruined."

"Werewolves?!" I stare at the men, wide-eyed, certain I've misheard them - but they continue their discussion as if my horrified outburst never happened.

"Let Alaya take care of our guest and make her presentable," the pack leader said with a grimace, his eyes flicking with clear disdain to my short Minnie Mouse pajama set.

"Hey! Does anyone plan to ask me whether I want this?!" I burst out, my voice trembling with outrage. "This is literally a crime - a violation of my rights!"

Both men stared at me in stunned silence for a second, then exchanged glances - and suddenly burst out laughing like a pair of wild horses.

Great. Just great. So much for human rights. Clearly, this place has never even heard of them. A bunch of savages!

The only small comfort was that, for now, they seemed to need me alive and intact - no one was going to attack or kill me. But the future... that was another story. Something was definitely off, and I didn't have to be a genius to realize they weren't telling me everything.

If only I could run... but where to? I didn't know this world at all - its people, its customs, or even which way was safe.

Dil led me out of the chief's house and down the street to a small, cozy-looking home. In front of it, a dark-haired woman in her fifties was busy tending to a flower bed.

"Alaya, this is Naziza," Dil announced in his usual curt tone. "Manar ordered you to get her ready for the king's scouts' arrival. Until then, she'll stay with you. Keep an eye on her - the guards will be here soon."

He said it sharply, leaving no room for discussion. The woman - with the most stunningly blue eyes - looked me over with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

"All right, Dildan. I understand," she replied quietly, brushing the dirt off her hands and offering me a kind smile. She gestured toward the house. I followed her obediently, while Dil whispered something to her before leaving.

As soon as we stepped inside, a warm, homey smell of baking and something delicious reached my nose, making my stomach growl in betrayal. The interior was cozy and comforting - it actually felt like home.

"My name is Alaya," the woman said with a gentle smile. "And you must be starving. Let's fix that first."

She guided me to a big wooden table in the kitchen and began bustling around. I couldn't help but notice something that looked suspiciously like a refrigerator. It turned out to be a small chamber - when Alaya opened it, a chill breeze brushed my legs. So maybe this world wasn't as primitive as it looked. I wondered... did they have electricity too?

A few minutes later, she placed before me a meal that smelled heavenly - though I had no idea what it was made of - and a steaming cup of what looked like tea.

"You're definitely not from around here," Alaya said kindly, sitting across from me and watching my cautious curiosity.