Harcon's face broke into a smirk. "You didn't know, Ward?"

"Is that true?" snapped the Shadowbreakers' leader, clearly hoping that Harcon was making things up. "You didn't mention that she's one of the Lost."

"Irrelevant detail, but tell me, former city guard - how do you know?" Her voice dripped with sugar and venom, the suspicion clear as day. Made sense, though; he knew things about me Ward didn’t, things she wasn’t keen to let slip.

"You serious? Seems like you just answered your own question, mind mage," Harkon said, unfazed as ever, her jab rolling right off him. My respect for him kept growing, though I still had no idea which side he was playing for. "Occupational disease, always on the lookout for any details. Spotted the runes behind her ears - just before my fist melted half her face off."

"Is that true, boy?" she barked at the young workhand. "Is that what happened?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am," he stammered. "That… that's how we caught her."

"Did you?" the mind-bitch sneered, making it painfully obvious she didn’t believe a word the young workhand said, her gaze piercing him.

"D-Did you, j-just...?" stuttered my so-called master, covered in sweat and backing away from the workhand - a potential thrall.

"Don’t stress your mind, slave trader. His is so open I didn’t have to do more than peek."

"Forget Arlo! He's irrelevant," Ward cut in. "Unlike the fact that the half-Terr is one of the Lost. Mind telling when you were going to tell me?"

'Damn. He didn't even know I wasn't really half-Terrden.’ It almost made me feel sorry for him - almost. In fact, if it weren't for the collar and its efforts to keep me still, I might’ve cracked a grin. Not the problem that bitch had. A bit annoyed by this, she smirked. "I think you know, Bastian."

"Tits!" Ward cursed, pulling his fedora down over his eyes, only to bring it back up a breath later, a shade calmer. “You realize those bugs would have messed with her, right?"

"Of course. Who do you take us for? Mindless fools?"

"And you still think that's not an issue?"

"If we did, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

'Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Just... damn it all!" Ward was supposed to be furious. Better even, attack the mind mage if things panned out. But I guess it was too much to wish for. After all, he had burned his bridges with the Sahal Empire and thrown in his lot with the mind mages. Without them, he was screwed.

"That... makes sense. Just… I'd appreciate it if you'd be more forthright next time." Ward muttered, letting his irritation seep through. He hated being the one to be outplayed.

The mind-bitch’s lips curled into a nasty smile. "We wouldn't be here if I were, would we? But sure, I’ll play nice for business’ sake." I may not have had who knows what experience with mind mages, but you’d have to be insane to trust her. Or desperate - like Ward was. Quite pleased, her attention turned from him back to Harcon. "Talk about deals. What about you, former city guard? You came out to me knowing all that. Shall I assume you're still interested?"

"What about my debt to Rutledge?" Harcon asked instead of answering her.

"To that slave trader?" she scoffed, raising her eyebrows, peering at my so-called master. The little fat man nearly wobbled over, retreating to hide behind the bruiser woman as if that would help shield his mind from intrusion. "Not really my issue," she shrugged.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Ward stepped in. "I’ve already offered to pay your debt, and the same goes for you, Branwen. All you need to do is join the Shadowbreakers. The offer still stands, sweetened by the fact that you would become knights. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Bastian. You trying to bring in new recruits now that I’ve taken your toys? Be my guest, it won’t change much," the bitch said, her confidence making my skin crawl. Either she was off her rocker, or she genuinely believed Ward couldn’t touch her, even with Harcon and Branwen backing him up. Sure, she had seven brainwashed Shadowbreakers and two massive mossbears on her side - not exactly great odds for Ward. That wasn't the only party in play, though.

No, I didn't mean my so-called master and his thugs. Unlike him, his fighter may have had the guts to speak up, but not the strength to turn the tables. "What about us?" There was still Harcon's plan, though he may have been hesitant to go through with it - the forest and its inhabitants.

"Do not trouble your mind with that. We can find a use for everyone." The bitch didn't even bother to tone down from her voice the fact that the ‘use’ she was talking about might not always be to everyone's liking. Instead, she enjoyed the growing panic on the faces of the fighter and his boss, the bastard whose words held sway over my mind. Unlike the two, the workhand just stood there, aloof, probably clueless as to what was going on and what was at stake.

Can’t lie. I felt a bit jealous of his ignorance.

Unlike him, though, I was all too aware, unable to forget what I had been through, and unwilling to accept that I should go back to that nightmare. So, when I saw everything heading toward some sort of agreement instead of conflict, I panicked. Vara and Elira were still locked in the cage, while Harcon was surrounded by people he had no chance to stand against - not for long. We needed a miracle to get out of this mess, and I definitely didn’t want to rely on the Fae to bail me out a second time. No! No, as much as I hated it, and crazy as it sounded, it was time to embrace once again what that deranged asshole had made of me, call the residents of this forest, and hope for the best.

'Y-You can do it, Korra!' I tried to pump myself up before letting go of the reins I was holding over the beast inside me, just enough to put me on the edge of the shift. Right then, the urge to sink my fangs into that mind-bitch hit me hard, eliciting a low growl from my throat, much to my annoyance - and horror.

Of course, she caught it, worry lighting up her eyes. "Did I not tell you to strap her down, workhand?!"

"Y-Yeah, you did, madam."

"Then just do it, or I swear I'll make you!"

"Yes, madam. R-R-Right away," the young workhand blurted out, the rattling shackles in his hands sounding like thunder, threatening to unleash the beast. Pride, my ass! It was as scared of those restraints as I was.

"Don't you dare!" I barked as he stepped closer to me with those hateful things. If they thought I’d let them put those on me without a fight, they were dead wrong.

"What the fuck are you waiting for, Tate? Hurry up," my so-called master urged, his eyes darting between him, me, and the mind-bitch.

"But boss, she..."

"Don't worry, that wench can't do anything to you. I got her under control. I do."

Too trusting for his own good, the young workhand made another step closer. With more caution this time, but still...

"Try it, and I'll kill you!" Not an empty threat. I might have felt disgusted at the idea of taking another life, but if that’s what it took to avoid becoming a lab pet, I was desperate enough to go through with it.

"Shut your trap, wench! I order you not to move. Tate!"

"C-C-Couldn't someone else do it, boss?"

"For the love of..." Rutledge swore, stopping mid-sentence as his eyes widened at the mind bitch. “N-No, t-t-that won’t be necessary, ma’am. You don’t need to send one of your people,” he mumbled out loud. No doubt the bitch was talking in his head. "I-I h-have it under control."

"Then why aren't the restraints on her already?!" she spat, her voice sharp.

"She's a one-off," Ward spoke up, unabashedly enjoying the mind-bitch alarm. "Got some claws, for sure. But aren't those suppressing shackles a bit overkill?"

The mind-bitch's eyes twitched. "For the one you see, sure. But I suppose you haven't had the pleasure of meeting the real mutt she is, Bastian."

"Interesting. Is it the core?" Ward asked, his interest piqued.

“That…” the bitch said, her eyes locking onto mine. “…we’ll have to find out.”

'Like I'd let you!' I growled in my head, ready to attack anyone who approached me despite the collar on my neck doing its best to keep me still and silent. The cornered beasts always bite back, and they sure cornered me - again.