And she took that insult personally.

It wasn’t the first time she had been accused of being different or weird.

Most of her life growing up was a constant reminder of how she had nothing in common with other children at the rural countryside where her grandparents had a farm. It invited tons of locals and tourists to hang around yet still, no matter how hard she tried learning their dialect and adapting to their customs, she would soon get distracted and forget. It’s not that she hadn’t been interested but she was going through trials in her life that happened in privacy. The one time she had told a close friend what she was going through, he hadn’t believed her. Getting accused as a liar and a twisted spoiled farm girl was the last straw that finally isolated her from the rest.

Added to that, she already looked different from the other kids at a young age. Warm skin of honey, slanted eyes and thick long curling hair that fell to her back. Fitting in was a mountain of an obstacle she had never succeeded at.

Dr. Malia figured that her own failure to fit in from childhood was something she internalized and carried over to this day. There were old roots inside her which kept creating more impulses to become different and inspire discomfort in others because it is what had always been done from the get-go. The garden she had watered for over a decade. But no matter how long it’s been, it still hurt to be reminded how unrelated she was to everyone else. How different. It killed at her every single time. It proved more so now than ever.

The dark tribespeople from the basement looked to her as if she has grown another head, inspiring a feeling in her of being lost at sea, alone and forsaken. It spiked a toxic spurt of poison in her veins, leaving her cold.

She swept her tongue over her upper teeth, slowly. The raging bloom of fire in her mouth was a delicious prick of warmth inside her system. Exhaling, she mentally shrugged ancient hurt that nearly stole breath out of her lungs. The last four peppers she juggled high up in the air, caught it in her mouth with loud resounding crunches. The spike of heat in her system a welcome distraction for old wounds reopened. “How about that?” she asked Na’reem.

A relaxed grin, his dimples making an appearance. “It’s definitely something we haven’t seen before.”

Ylia faced her with cautious stare. “Are you.. feeling all right?” At River’s nod, she continued. “Can I see inside your mouth?”

“Hold on a second.” She downed her fourth glass of milk before answering her request.

Ylia was inches away, eyeing her with slow precision. Dark tribespeople breathing down her neck as they piled up behind her, their eyes bugging out when they struggled to get closer to see. “Fine.” she finally said, “A deal is a deal.”

At that, the room burst into uproars of curses and disbelief. Tons of spirited questions fired her way from each direction, their voices interspersing on top of each other until she couldn’t make it out from the noise. Suddenly, she was all too aware how massive dark tribespeople were. They dwarfed the room by their sheer size and the noise was taking up too much space making it hard to breath.

“I need to get some air.” she told Ylia in a rush without waiting for an answer. Seeking refuge from the disarray, she strode towards the stairs with hurried steps, up to the shop and out the brass entrance doors.

As fresh cool air filled her lungs, she took in the view of the street lined up with dome buildings of stone. Under her shoes, blackened dirt and shale. It was a temporary settlement that refuged several tribespeople from different tribes for a working project in the island with so-called eternal beasts roaming above ground. It reminded her that the very idea of an eternal beast had struck pure terror in Maksim when she had first met him. In turn, he had offered to sacrifice himself for the safety of his own tribe. The man was capable of giving out huge depths of sacrifice for the sake of his people. That’s why it was odd that he withdrew the way he did earlier.

She looked back at the shop she won over and the tribespeople following her on her heels from the basement. The domed-stone building was ensconced with doors and windows made with brass and copper. An extravagant store-front that displayed its importance among the dull residential buildings. The sight tightened a pressure in her chest. A visual reminder of what she was going through all her life. On second thought, she began to realize what Maksim must have been going through ever since arriving here. This universe looked the same as his but different in so many aspects.

Cursing at herself, she reached out a mental call to Maksim. No answer.

Fuck.

Another colorful curse left past her lips in a whisper hiss. For the longest time, she had been operating under survival mode that she failed to recognize that Maksim didn’t belong here just as much as her. His terrible fear were that of eternal beasts, and now they freely roam among them in this island— what must he be feeling right now? It can’t be easy for him. Damn it. It must be why he kept saying strange things to her.

If the man kept insisting on calling her his wife, then he might as well start treating her like one. He doesn’t need to do this alone.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She bit her lip and scratched her had with both hands. What a clusterfuck. He doesn’t need to be here in this universe if he can’t take the heat. A prince like him won’t be used to a world that treated him differently than he’s used to, right? Or perhaps it was the predators above ground that set him on edge?

Fuck.

They barely know each other. They need to set this straight and have an actual conversation. Where was he? Why isn’t he answering?

Is he deliberately ignoring her?

“Behagthi!”

She heard the urgent word spill from two tribespeople across the street. It was U’tu and Lei’la. Seeing them together unfastened knots of pressure off her shoulders, the familiar sight of them as children reminding her of the tenderness that crashed between them when they were younger.

Jogging to them, she heard Lei’la say. “Not out loud! Tribespeople around here out on the streets, for the great world’s sake.”

With eagerness she waved at them. “Hey guys! You called?”

The urgent possessiveness that overcame U’tu at the surprise was adorable. She can’t help seeing the young, mischievous boy in him. Even though the teenager standing before him had a wealth of shadows in his eyes. In his arms was Lei’la in shock as her honeyed-brown gaze scanned the area behind River, shivering.

“If you are getting cold, I have sweaters in the shop.” She said to Lei’la. “It’s nice to see you again, U’tu.”

His green-eyed gaze swept over the dark tribespeople flanking to her back. “What do you mean you have sweaters?”

“My sweaters,” she hummed in the affirmative, a grin creeping across her lips “I won it.” Pointing to the apothecary, “As well as the shop and the services of these good men and women. For a limited time, of course.”

Lei’la’s eyes widened. River!

What?

Her frightened glance stopped at Ylia. Do you have any idea who they are?

U’tu began clearing his throat, “It’s nice meeting you again, River. We were just coming to tell you that Lei’la and I are coming back to dark tribe city as we speak. She is needed.” The finality in his tone tolerated no argument.

She looked to Lei’la. Is that what you want?

The question seemed to put her out of shock. No! No! She focused all her strength struggling from escaping his hold. Won’t go with him. He can’t! River please you promised to help me.

“You’re hurting her.” River said to U’tu whose arms bore ever so tightly in a bruising hold. “Let. go.”

Ice dripping from his tone, unfazed by his captive’s distress. “Or what?”

He’s really fast. Speed closer to a predator’s. River, you can’t let him take me. River. River. Please. River. she said inside her head, chanting her name like a prayer.

When she moved forward to help, she got held back by the arms with Me’ren and Na’reem flanking on both sides behind her. They rested their palms on her upper arms, and addressed U’tu instead.

“U’tu Grant.” said Na’reem wearing a welcoming good nature smile. “Primary hunter for the sun tribe and former heir apparent to your tribe’s curse. What an honor.”

He tilted his head fully to face them off squarely. “And you are the renowned dark tribe gatekeepers. Your reputation precedes you.”

With a thunderous frown, Me’ren barked at him. “So soon to leave? You seem to have forgotten to honor your sun queen in your visit. As is your custom.”

A sharp glint crossed his green eyes, “How would you know that?”

The grim brother clipped in a no-nonsense reply. “It’s our business to know.”

Na’reem’s smile never faltered. “Even though we are much farther away from our homelands, we still devote ourselves to our customs. Otherwise we are no better than the mindless beasts ravaging this island.”

Me’ren put himself between them, folding his arms over his chest. “Go honor your queen, primary hunter.”

A mask of indifference shuttered over U’tu’s face. The opposite of how he was since she had first met him. “I’m taking her with me.”

Just about when River was about to protest, Na’reem bent forward pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear. “They won’t leave until tomorrow noon.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” she bit back, temper rising.

He arched a brow in challenge. “Do I?” The black inky depths of his eyes could easily pass up for a large chunk of an ocean. A swell of knowledge glittered behind those inky depths and that was because his sights were on the perspective of the ongoing present across all lands in this world. No limits across all tribal borders and their territories.

She rolled her eyes, punching an elbow straight for his gut. “Keep your distance. And let me know once it changes. I want to know the moment he changes his mind and leaves with Lei’la.”

“Sun tribe girl.” called Leo’nido from the shop’s entrance, still carrying a pitcher of milk in his hands. “You can’t talk to our boss this way.”

“Ylia and I struck a deal. For about a week, they work for me. That makes me the boss. They answer to me.”

The elder man with a salt-and-pepper beard, lowered his gray brows and said. “You can’t be serious.”

A long outstretched yawn overcame her. “It’s getting late.” she said, marching back towards the apothecary. “Where am I sleeping?”

Leo’nida reared back in shock, quickly scanning for Ylia until he locked onto her line of sight. “Mistress?”

She nodded to him with a slight tip of a chin. “Give her what she wants.”