When Thrax had said he'd be waiting outside, she'd thought he meant outside in the lower bailey. But no, he'd meant outside the walls. In the wilderness beyond the bridge. Where he belonged.

She'd never set foot in the outland before. Never even been past the gatehouse. Nothing in the wilds but devouring bogs, eerie moors, and lurking beasts.

Tonight was indeed a night of firsts, but instead of the wedding night she'd expected, she was being evicted from her home like a godsforsaken criminal. That was the fate of all lawbreakers and sinners—exile into the outland. Nevermore to be seen again. Likely why they called this land the Nevermoor Bog.

Rowan glanced back at the castle. The lights of the gatehouse swam and blurred in her tears. A surge of hot anger caught her breath. How could her mother do this to her? She'd only ever tried to make Elgret love her! The High Lady's farewell kiss had been as cold as the tears now soaking Rowan's cheek. The wind slapped her face with icy mist and she turned forward lest she trip and roll off the bridge into the thirsting bog below. Would her mother even care if she died?

At least Meera was by her side. She wasn't alone. Poor Meera. But her friend had readily agreed to go with her into exile when the High Lady had given the girl a choice. Meera had been given a choice, at least. Angelica had not.

"You're too old, good nurse." The High Lady had spoken in a tone that'd brooked no further pleading.

It was for the best, Rowan decided. She wouldn't wish the outland on such a wholesome old darling.

The guard's torchlight jumped in the gusts that swept across the bridge. Though it was a bright torch, the light failed to reach the other end of the bridge. Yawning darkness pressed against the small pool of light.

Rowan shivered, her anger fizzling under the waves of mounting fear. She turned back to glance at Meera. Her friend was using the leather bag as a shield against the gusts, arms straining under the weight. The woolen mantel was flying in the wind behind her. They'd not been permitted to bring much. Elgret said their clothes and shoes would not withstand life in the outland. After tonight the girls would have to start dressing like godsdamned wargs.

It wasn't a large bag, yet it weighed almost two stone. But not with clothes or useless trinkets. It was heavy with Mantor eyes from her mother's garden. She'd have carried it herself, but Thrax would be watching her. And Meera was stronger, so it was up to her to carry out Rowan's scheme in the hours to come.

"You all right?" she asked Meera, keeping her voice low. Her teeth sawed at her lips as Meera nodded. "What if this doesn't work?"

"You're resilient enough to plot something new," Meera whispered against the wind.

Rowan swallowed, her chest tight. The words ought to have warmed her, yet it did the opposite. Such unyielding loyalty was heart-wrenching because it put a lot of pressure on her. The weight of that millstone around her neck was making her knees buckle. And her fear, like rime ice, crept thicker and thicker the further she stepped from home. Another bout of tears began streaming down her face as she faced forward again.

Ahead, the sight of eyeshine in the dark struck terror in her soul. Her feet froze on the bridge and Meera collided into her back with a soft, "Oomph." The girl uttered a strangled sound swiftly after, indicating she'd spotted the wargs, too.

Rowan could see nothing of their shapes. Just their eyes, unblinking and preternaturally still in the shifting mist.

The guard halted, face grim and shadowed as he peered back at her. "My lady?"

Rowan tried to swallow her terror, but her mouth was bone dry. She tried to cling to her anger. With a soft whimper, swallowed by the wind, she forced her feet forward.

When the torchlight reached the far side of the bridge, the guard stopped and stood aside for them. He would go no further. The girls were on their own from here on out.

The pooling darkness beyond the light was black and soupy. She could just make out Thrax's face. He was waiting a little further ahead, eyes bright as torchlight. Behind him, a host of yellow orbs. All the wargs, save their alpha and one other, were in full warg regalia—thick fur, long snouts, and on all fours.

Rowan's teeth were chattering loudly. It took more than two failed attempts before she was able to speak without stumbling over every word. "May I have the light?"

The guard held the torch out to her. "Of course, my—"

"Not necessary." The wargrex's voice was gruffer, more sinister, now that they were officially in the wilds of the outland. Or was it her imagination?

She balked. "I can't see, I need the light!"

"But I can see." He held a commanding hand out to her. "You will learn to see in the dark, too."

Her fingers were still extended towards the torch, but the guard, heeding the wargrex's edict instead, backed away and took the torch with him. He did, however, take some pity on her by lighting the sconces either side of the stone posts for her.

"You may go," said the wargrex.

The guard gave a curt nod and made quick his escape. She didn't blame him at all for not tarrying within fang's reach of a pack of wargs.

The wargrex's eerie eyes shifted over Rowan's shoulder to where Meera stood. "You, too."

"No!" Rowan's hand flew out from her cloak like a whip, her fingers cleaving to Meera's arm as though it was a lifeline. Indeed, Meera was her lifeline. They were as close as sisters. "She goes with me."

The wargrex's jaw flared with annoyance. Silence ensued during which Rowan feared he'd deny her. But thankfully he proved himself a charitable beast. "Very well." To Meera he said, "But understand this, girl, if you find you wish to leave Carthyrk, you will do so alone. At your own risk. Unless you can convince one of my brothers—" he indicated the army of wargs at his back "—to bring you back."

"Torgon would take her," said the menacing warg beside him. He spoke perfect Wrasian but with a deep growl that made every word still sound alien. He had a jagged scar bisecting one eyebrow. "The fool's easily struck by a pretty face." He was studying Meera's face so intently that the backhanded compliment made even Rowan's cheeks flush.

With a steady voice, Meera assured the wargrex that she understood the risk. Rowan was proud of her maid's indefatigable spirit and unwavering courage. It bolstered her own.

With a terse nod, the wargrex gestured to the scarred warg that'd spoken. "Then you will ride with Thresh." His eyes shifted to Rowan. "And you will ride with me."

She glanced around, confused. "Where's your horse?"

He snorted as though she was ridiculous. "You'll ride on my back."

"What? No!" Rowan shook her head, a cold sweat breaking on her brow despite the cold. She wasn't dressed to ride. She'd assumed he would bring a cart or something. Now she felt foolish as well as terrified. "You cannot be serious, I can't..."

"But you will," said the wargrex through clenched teeth. "And you'll do it in a hurry."

She would join Hekki in the underworld before she'd ride a warg. "No. Let me have my horse saddled." In fact, it was imperative she have her own steed.

The wargrex's face didn't change much but she could tell by the tick in his jaw that he might be close to losing his temper. The growl in his tone was also a good hint. "Either you ride me..." Now why did that make her blush? "Or," he went on, "I carry you between my jaws." He didn't wait around for her answer. Without breaking eye contact, he began to undress. The one called Thresh was already shedding his jerkin.

"What...what are you doing?!" Rowan looked about for help, but the guard was out of earshot now. Not that he was any match for a warg. Were these wargs bent on raping them?

In a calm voice, though more guttural and animalistic than ever, the wargrex said, "What does it look like I'm doing? You expect me to walk back to Carthyrk on two legs."

Not rape then. Now the "carry you in my jaws" part of his threat made a little more sense. And he was evidently done talking. She averted her eyes when he began removing his trews.

He gave a snort of disgust. "Why pretend you haven't seen a cock before?"

She was glaring at her boots, wide-eyed. Right, she'd almost forgotten about her lie. Only virgins acted squeamish around naked men. But did he have to sound so crude? She supposed experienced women didn't flinch at the word cock, did they? "I've never seen a warg...cock before," she answered hotly.

He chuckled when she continued to glare at her boots. But there was no humor in it. "Coward."

She turned to look at Meera instead, but her maid was watching the wargrex with something akin to fascination. The other wargs silently melted into the night. It was only Thresh, Thrax, and the two women left.

Suddenly, Meera emitted a strangled gasp. Then a mighty roar followed that shattered the night. Rowan whipped her head towards Thrax, her gut seizing with terror.

There, towering over all, stood a monster where once there had stood a man.