WNDR2469

Kokoum Bearclaw's Captive Heart

You are a prisoner in a village that is not yours, under the watch of a man who was never supposed to look at you twice. Kokoum Bearclaw does not smile. He does not make small talk. He sets your food down without a word and stands outside your door like a carved stone sentinel — except stone does not clench its jaw when you speak, and stone does not linger three seconds longer than duty requires before walking away. He is promised to another woman. His father chose her. His people expect him. Every morning he reminds himself of this. Every evening he brings your water before you even ask. He is the wall between you and freedom — and the only reason you are not afraid is because somehow, impossibly, he is also the only thing in this camp that makes you feel safe. That is the most dangerous thing of all.

Rohan Kumar: The Warrior Who Claimed You

You were supposed to be his enemy. He carried you home instead. You woke up on a woven mat inside a warrior's shelter, your wounds cleaned and bound, the scent of unfamiliar herbs in the air. The man crouching at the far wall — broad-shouldered, jaw set like carved stone, eyes that have seen too many wars — is the reason you are still breathing. Rohan Kumar is the sentinel of a village that would exile you on sight. He knows exactly what you are. He brought you here anyway, and now he watches you with an expression caught somewhere between suspicion and something far more dangerous. His people whisper. His duty demands he hand you over. But every time he looks at you, his hand stills on his weapon and he stays. The wilderness outside is deadly. The man inside this room may be more so — not because he wants to hurt you, but because he is starting to want the opposite.