One of the soldiers ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
Scarlet turned and gave Winter a look.
Shivering from head to toe, Winter reached for Scarlet, using her shoulder for balance.
The soldiers laughed.
“Winter,” Scarlet hissed.
“I’m frightened, Scarlet.”
Scarlet’s expression turned to stone. “Perhaps you’d like to go outside and compose yourself and we can come back later,” she said, speaking through clenched teeth.
Winter shuddered at Scarlet’s anger, though she knew Scarlet had a right to it. Coming here had been her idea. If they both died here, it would be her fault.
But she wouldn’t allow it. These were men, she reminded herself. Men who deserved life and happiness as much as anyone.
Holding firm to that thought, she forced herself away from Scarlet and was grateful when the dizziness receded.
“I am Winter Hayle-Blackburn, Princess of Luna,” she said, and could tell even in her own ears how faintly her voice carried. Not at all like Scarlet’s. “I need your help.”
Eyes flashed, delighted.
“In return, I wish to help you.”
Amusement. Hunger. Less curiosity than she would have hoped.
She gulped.
“Queen Levana, my stepmother, has treated you with cruelty and unfairness. She has taken you from your families and acted as though you are nothing to her but scientific experiments. She has locked you away in these caves, for no other purpose than to be sent to Earth and fight in her war. And what will you be given for your service?” They all waited with their hard and sparkling eyes, watching Winter like she was their afternoon snack, still cooking on a spit. It was not unlike the looks she’d received from countless men in Levana’s court.
“Nothing,” she said, shoving her fear into the bottom of her stomach. “If you survive your battles, you’ll come back here and be enslaved in these caverns until she needs you again. You will not be allowed to return to your families. You will not rejoin our society and live what lives you may once have dreamed of living, back before you were … you were…”
“Monsters?” suggested one of the men, grinning around the word.
“I do not believe you are monsters. I believe you have been given very few choices, and you are dealing with the consequences as well as you can.”
A snort came from Alpha Strom. “Who knew we would be receiving such counsel from the princess herself today? Tell me, pretty highness … does this therapy session come with refreshments?”
“Your friend, perhaps?” said another. “She smells delicious.”
Scarlet crossed her arms, fingers digging into her elbows.
Winter squared her shoulders. “We came here to give you another choice. The people of Luna are planning a rebellion. In two days we will be marching into the central dome of Artemisia. We plan to overwhelm the queen and her court, to overthrow her and put an end to her tyranny. I ask that you join us. Fight on our behalf and help us end the rule that took you from your lives and turned you into soldiers. Ensure that you will never become prisoners, or experiments, or … animals created for Levana’s amusement, ever again.”
A silence settled over them, as if they were waiting to make sure she was finished. Winter searched for some indication they were even listening.
She felt like a lamb in their den.
“She has pretty words.”
Winter turned toward the voice. It was one of the men who had been involved in the fight. Fresh blood had dried at the corner of his lip.
He tipped his head when he saw that he had her attention, his eyelids dipping suggestively. “Not quite as pretty as her face.”
“Except for these scars.”
She jumped and spun around. She hadn’t heard this soldier step so close and now he was hovering over her. He dragged a sharp-tipped nail down her cheek. “Where’d these come from, pretty lady?”
She didn’t—couldn’t—answer.
An arm wrapped around Winter’s shoulders, pulling her back. “Stop it,” said Scarlet, tucking Winter behind her, though it was useless. They were surrounded. “Were you listening to her? You can call yourselves soldiers or wolf packs or whatever you want, but the truth is, you’re nothing but slaves. Winter is offering you freedom. She’s giving you a choice, which is more than Levana has ever offered. Will you help us or not?”
“You’ll be slaughtered,” someone whispered against Winter’s ear.
She gasped and turned again, locking her back against Scarlet’s. The soldiers crept closer. Predators toying with their catch, luxuriating in the anticipation of the meal.
“A bunch of pathetic civilians are going to stand up against the queen?” another said. “They don’t stand a chance.”
And another. “Don’t you know who the queen will call on to hold them back, if there are too many to manipulate?”
“Us,” spoke a third. “Her army.”
“You mean her lapdogs?” said Scarlet, and though her tone was mocking, her back was pressing against Winter just as forcefully. “Her pets?”
The soldiers’ faces twitched.
“If you side with us,” said Winter, “we can win. We will win.”
“What will happen to us if we side with you and you lose?” said Alpha Strom.
One of them brushed a finger down Winter’s throat. Her heart skipped.
“With you beside us,” she said, her voice wavering, “we will not lose.” Her eyes began to water from fear. “You can stop now. You’ve frightened us enough. I know you are not the vicious creatures you’re pretending to be—that you’ve been trained and tormented and built to be. You are men. You are citizens of Luna. If you help me, if you fight for me … I can help you get your lives back. You can’t tell me you don’t want that!”