The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows that danced among the towering trees of the dense forest. Night had fully descended, bringing with it a serene calmness that contrasted sharply with the tension brewing within the camp.

  Rena sat with her back against a sturdy oak, her wrists bound by iron shackles that clinked softly with her slightest movement. Hunger gnawed at her insides, intensified by the mouthwatering aroma of roasting meat wafting through the air. It had been over a day since she last ate, and her body screamed for sustenance.

  Nearby, soldiers huddled close to the fire, their voices low but laced with disdain.

  "We shouldn't be feeding her," one muttered, casting a wary glance in Rena's direction. "She's dangerous."

  Another sneered, his lip curling in disgust. "Let her starve. A witch doesn't deserve our food."

  Rena's lips curled into a smirk. "Afraid a 'witch' might outmatch you even when she's starving? Pathetic."

  The first soldier bristled, his hand inching toward his weapon. "Watch your tongue, witch, or I'll—"

  "You'll what?" Rena interrupted, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Cower behind your comrades? Or perhaps you'd prefer to test your mettle against a shackled woman?"

  His face reddened, but he made no move to approach her. The others chuckled nervously, their unease palpable.

  Alex observed the exchange from a distance, his dark eyes reflecting the fire's glow. He had been silently sharpening his blade, the rhythmic scrape of stone against steel a steady backdrop to the camp's murmurs. His gaze lingered on Rena, intrigued by her defiance even in captivity.

  When his portion of food arrived, Alex accepted it with a nod. After a moment's contemplation, he addressed the soldier distributing the meals. "Bring me another serving. The day's march has left me famished."

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  The soldier hesitated but complied, returning with an additional plate. Alex set it aside, continuing his routine as the camp gradually settled into slumber.

  As the fire dwindled to embers and snores filled the air, Alex rose, the extra plate in hand. He approached Rena, his footsteps deliberately light.

  "Hungry?" he inquired, holding the plate just out of her reach.

  Rena's eyes narrowed, suspicion evident. "What's this? A peace offering from the 'Blood Hound' himself?"

  He chuckled softly. "Hardly. Consider it a test."

  She eyed the food, her stomach twisting painfully. "And what poison have you laced it with?"

  Alex's expression remained neutral. "If I wanted you dead, Rena, you'd already be a corpse. Eat or don't; the choice is yours."

  Her gaze shifted between him and the plate. Hunger won out. She reached for the food, her shackles clinking, and began to eat with measured bites, maintaining eye contact.

  "You find me dangerous enough to shackle, yet you feed me," she remarked between mouthfuls. "What game are you playing?"

  Alex leaned against the tree beside her, arms crossed. "Perhaps I'm curious. You possess strength uncommon for a woman. I wonder what it would take to break you."

  Rena's eyes flashed defiantly. "Many have tried. All have failed."

  He smirked. "We'll see."

  Silence enveloped them, the distant hoot of an owl the only intrusion. Rena's thoughts raced. She could easily break free from these shackles; their restraint was laughable. But escape now would be premature. She needed to understand her captors, especially Alex. His motives were murky, and that intrigued her.

  "Tell me," she began, breaking the silence. "Do your men always follow you blindly? Even when you make questionable decisions, like feeding the 'enemy'?"

  Alex's gaze remained steady. "They trust my judgment. And I trust they'll keep their opinions to themselves."

  "Blind loyalty," Rena mused. "Dangerous."

  "Effective," he countered. "Unlike your current predicament."

  She chuckled softly. "You underestimate me, Alex."

  "Perhaps," he conceded. "Or perhaps I see you more clearly than you see yourself."

  Rena's smile faded slightly, his words striking a chord she hadn't anticipated. "Careful, Blood Hound. Insight can be a double-edged sword."

  He pushed off the tree, standing tall. "Rest while you can. Tomorrow will be... enlightening."

  As he walked away, Rena's mind churned. This game of wits was becoming more intricate than she'd planned. But one thing was certain: she wouldn't be the one to falter.