The brute arrived at dawn, dragging a stag carcass as if it were proof of ownership.
He dropped it in the clearing with a thud and grinned, all teeth and challenge.
“This is mine," he announced. “And so are the hunting grounds past the ridge."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew his name—Korr, a warlord who counted his worth in broken ribs and stolen kills. He had refused Isabella's code twice. This time, he'd come to make it clear there would be no third.
---
Isabella stepped into the ring of onlookers. “You took meat from land we agreed to share."
“I took it because I could," Korr said, voice like gravel. “That's the only law that matters."
“Then we settle it here," she said. “Trial by teeth. If I win, you and your pack join the code. If I lose, you take your ridge an
