The sack is unbearably hot, and I kick out against the man’s firm grip. “Take it off! I can’t breathe! Take it off now!”

His hold tightens. He must be waiting for Braizen to decide. Mercifully, someone pulls the sack from my head. It’s now dark. My hair sticks to my cheeks, and sweat beads across my face from my forehead to my lips. The cool air feels like a miracle against my skin. For the first time in my entire life, I give thanks for the cold.

Still firmly in the giant’s grasp, I survey my surroundings as best I can. We’re camped at one edge of a large clearing, a rough meadow of sorts, surrounded by trees. A tall, thick canopy of leaves hovers over us. The night air is filled with the smells of wet grass and pine. We must be deep in the Florian Wood. A bright moon casts silver rays, and when I look down, I meet a severe stare from a familiar pair of ice-blue eyes. Braizen.

Still every bit as handsome. His brown curls are longer now and wildly unkempt, his eyebrows much thicker, and he sports a light stubble of facial hair. His eyes are the same. Glacial, a frost-bitten blue that pierces my very core.

Never breaking my gaze, I shake my head and spit, reminding myself that this isn’t the boy from my childhood memories. He’s Verdana’s enemy. He and his entire line are snakes, and no amount of attractiveness or jarring stares will ever make me forget this. I can’t forget this.

“What do you want me to do with her?”

The giant’s huge palms are wrapped snugly around my waist. Even as I stare down Braizen, I wonder what they feed people in Baelliles to produce such a monster. Braizen finally looks away.

“Tie her up over there. Make sure she has a blanket. The wind’s growing stronger; the cold will likely come tonight,” he says.

“Tie me up? You can’t be serious!” But I’m already being carried away as I speak. We pass a dark-haired woman gathering rope from her satchel. She begins to wrap it around my body. “As if the tethers around my wrists aren’t enough!” I hiss back at Braizen. “Are you going to bag my head again while I sleep?”

He smiles lightly. “Your face is fine; it’s your mouth that seems to be the trouble.” He whistles and the woman who’s now tying my feet looks back at him. She nods, then pulls out her knife and cuts away a strip of her tunic.

“Again? Seriously?” I shout. Without a word, she shoves the gag into my open mouth and uses a short piece of rope to hold it in place.

I curse vehemently, but my anger and words are as useless as my attempts to speak. I need to concentrate on not gagging. Torrent, the giant, laughs at me. Glowering, I shoot him a dark look.

His eyes flash wide. “She’s a feisty one, huh, boss?”