Aria’s POV

The stench inside the wooden cage was unbearable—rot, wet earth, blood. My knees pressed into the damp ground as I curled close to the bars, trying to block out the sight of the rogues drinking and laughing around the fire. Every time one of them looked my way, their eyes carried that hunger, not for flesh, but for power.

I tightened my grip around my stomach. No. They wouldn’t touch my child. They wouldn’t use me as their pawn.

Footsteps crunched against the dirt, and the lean rogue—the one who seemed to enjoy taunting me most—sauntered over with a crooked smile. He crouched just outside the cage, tilting...