They left the roadside lodge before sunrise.
Gray light crept through the trees as Daniel's car wound along the empty road. Martha sat in the passenger seat, his jacket over her shoulders, fingers pressed against the soft lining just to feel something that wasn't iron. Her wrists were bare. There were bruises, but no chains. Every breath tasted strange and thin, like air after a long time underwater.
At the lodge, the warriors who had dragged her there had lined up in front of the door while Daniel spoke quietly to their captain. She hadn't heard the words, only seen the man's face drain of color and his eyes drop. When Daniel turned back to the car, no one tried to stop him. No one even looked at her. They had simply stepped aside.
Whatever he was, he carried a weight that made Alpha D
