Honestly, I was getting tired of this. Two kidnappings in the space of one week. I was really tired of feeling weak, of being dragged around like a piece of property that everyone could claim.

I was bound to a wooden chair, thick ropes cutting into my wrists and ankles. The room was sparse and cold, lit only by a few flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls.

A fierce-looking man entered, and I could tell immediately he was partially shifted. His nails were extended into ...