Forsaken by Cyndi Friberg

despondent, thinking only of the child they had wrested from her arms. No matter how the man tried, he could not comfort her, so he focused on his newfound ambition.”
    “What did he do?”
    “There was only one way for a man with few skills to earn that sort of wealth.” Strolling back to the sitting area with a new beverage in each hand, he offered her a fresh glass of wine and kept the murky blue liquid for himself. “He became a bride hunter.”
    “What the hell is a bride hunter?” She set the nearly empty glass down beside the sofa and took a sip from the new one. The wine definitely tasted better cold.
    “When the practice of war brides began, the dangers inherent in claiming a female who could command magic was the primary motivation. It proved the warrior’s skill and bravery, set them above other warriors.” He took a swig off his glass, making a sound half groan, half sigh as the liquor burned its way down his throat. Whatever he’d selected this time was significantly stronger than her wine. “But the focus shifted to the potential of the offspring when battle born daughters started exhibiting their mother’s abilities.”
    “So bride hunters started capturing Bilarrian females and selling them to the highest bidder?”
    “Basically.”
    His expression remained thunderous so she said nothing more.
    “The man’s morautu was tormented by the loss of their son. The man was frequently gone and she lost hope.”
    Compassion pinged inside her mind then echoed through her heart, expanding in warm rolling waves. Was he talking about his father, his family? Only personal pain could impact someone this deeply. He was looking through her now and his voice had grown monotone.
    “When the man learned that his mate had taken her own life, what little remained of his soul shriveled up and died. He became ruthless and utterly fearless. Within a few years he was the most successful bride hunter Rodymia had ever produced.”
    At this point “the man” was childless, so either her theory was incorrect or the story wasn’t over. “Did that make him happy?”
    “Of course not,” he snapped then took another swig of whatever he was drinking. “It all became routine and boring until one particularly elusive female reignited his interest. She escaped him twice and he became obsessed with her.”
    The story was already pretty damn dark. Did she really want to follow him down this particular rabbit hole? “I’m not sure I want to know what happened when he finally caught her.”
    “He’d worked so hard for this particular prize that he decided to keep her for himself.”
    She nodded, having suspected that was where the story was headed. “You said mating bonds have to be formed between two willing people. If she was that desperate to get away from him, she couldn’t possibly have been willing.”
    “It took four years, but he gradually eroded her emotional defenses and—”
    “That’s not surrender. That’s brainwashing. If it took her four years to give in, he didn’t change her mind. He broke her spirt.”
    He shook his head and paused for another drink. “I understand your point, but the bond doesn’t work that way. She might have resented him, even hated him, but some part of her wanted him too.”
    It was easy to understand that contradiction when similar emotions were twisting through Raina. She disliked Kotto, thought he was self-serving and ruthless, but she also found him intriguing and physically appealing. She cleared her voice before trying to speak. “I won’t pretend to understand bonding, so we’ll just agree to disagree about her state of mind.”
    “It’s a minor detail that has little bearing on the rest of the story.”
    “Then please continue.”
    His gaze swept over her face, his expression oddly intense. Had she said something wrong—again? What had caused that odd expression? “Their first child was a son.”
    “What do you mean ‘first’ child. Weren’t war brides