Jorghan was the only one who seemed completely at ease. He didn't even bother to sit up properly.

"Scarlett," he said, his voice lazy and unconcerned.

"You found me. What's the emergency?"

"Emergency?" Scarlett finally found her voice, a high, strained squeak. "I... you... what in the hells are you doing? With... with two of them?" Her gesture took in the two elf women, her expression a perfect portrait of bewildered horror.

"Relaxing," Jorghan replied, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He had a cruel streak, and he enjoyed her discomfort.

"You look tense, cousin. The desert heat getting to you?"

"This isn't funny, Jorghan!" she snapped, her fists clenching at her sides. Her eyes locked on Sarhita, who was now on her feet, clutching her discarded loincloth.

"Are you... are you okay?"

Sarhita bristled, the implication stinging more than the accusation. "I am not some weak creature to be forced!" she hissed, her tail lashing like a whip.

"My choices are my own."

"But... with her?" Scarlett's gaze flicked to Katisana, who merely raised a brow, a silent challenge.

Jorghan laughed, a short, harsh sound.

He finally sat up, the movement causing both Na'vi women to shift around him. "She made her choice, Scar. They both did. It's a simple concept. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of running errands for my mother."

Scarlett looked like she'd been slapped.

The familial jab hit its mark, deepening her humiliation. She was the responsible one, the good one, and here was her degenerate cousin, wallowing in sin with elf women and mocking her for her duty.

"You're disgusting," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and something else—something that looked uncomfortably like envy.

"Am I?" Jorghan stood up now, walking toward her, still gloriously, shamelessly naked. He stopped just a few feet from her, forcing her to look at him, at all of him. The scent of sex and power rolled off him in waves.

"Or are you just jealous that you're stuck following rules while I'm out here living?"

Scarlett's breath hitched. Her eyes dropped for a fraction of a second, taking in his body, the proof of his vitality, before snapping back to his face, her cheeks burning.

"I am not jealous of... of this... this filth!"

"Is it filth?" he mused, stepping even closer. He reached out and tucked a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear. She flinched but didn't pull away. Her heart was hammering against her ribs. "Or is it freedom? You feel it, don't you? That tight little knot inside you, all those rules and expectations. Don't you ever want to just... let go?"

Sarhita watched, a strange new emotion coiling in her gut.

It wasn't jealousy, not like before. It was a predatory recognition. This girl, this Scarlett, was being hunted, and she didn't even know it. Jorghan was circling her, using his raw charisma like a weapon, peeling back her layers of propriety.

"Leave her alone, Jorghan," Sarhita said, her voice low. It was less a command and more a statement of fact. He wouldn't stop. This was who he was.

He ignored her, his focus entirely on his cousin.

"Stay," he murmured, his voice dropping to that intimate, compelling whisper.

"Forget the fence. Forget my mother. See what it's like out here beyond all those walls you've built for yourself."

Scarlett was shaking, her resolve crumbling under the onslaught. She looked from his intense, demanding eyes to the two powerful women watching her from the shadows of the rock. They were part of his world, a world of primal instinct and raw desire, a world she had only ever dreamed of in her most secret, shameful thoughts.

"I... I can't," she breathed, but it was a weak protest, the last gasp of her old life.

"You can," Jorghan said, and his hand moved from her hair to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked her burning skin. "It's just a choice, Scarlett. The same one they made."

He leaned in, his lips hovering inches from hers. Scarlett closed her eyes.

And in the stifling heat of the desert, under the watchful eyes of a hunter and a desert elder, Scarlett just stood there, pondering about his words.

-

-

Meanwhile, back at the settlement, the young patriarch was still scheming against Jorghan. He was present with the same men he talked to before.

Lamorg looked up from the parchment. "If we take both of them, Swana and that human girl, he'll come after us. And when he comes after us, he'll be emotional. Emotional means mistakes."

"The Nor'vack won't let us simply abduct two of their own," another warrior said.

"That human woman, she is being called the prominent member of Jorghan's family, and Sigora treats her like family."

"Which is why we need to be clever about it," the young Patriarch said.

"We need to create a situation where they can be separated from the nor'vack without it being an obvious kidnapping.

A hunting expedition, perhaps.

An exploration into the territory that's under Nuwe'rak control. Somewhere we can make them disappear without creating immediate alarm."

He traced a line on his map, pointing to a region of forest that bordered the desert several miles to the south.

"The Whisperingtris. It's considered neutral territory, technically, but the Nuwe'rak have a significant presence there. If we can lure them into the deeper parts of the forest, away from easy rescue, we can keep them secure while Jorghan tries to find us."

"And when he does find us?" the scarred warrior asked.

"Then he dies angry and alone, away from the protection of his clan," the young Patriarch said. "And when the Norvacks learn what happened to their valued members, they'll be too busy mourning to mount any kind of effective retaliation."

It was a solid plan.

Not brilliant, but solid.

It relied on factors that were well within the realm of control. And most importantly, it would give the young Patriarch what he truly wanted—not just revenge for his father's death, but the knowledge that Jorghan's downfall came from the young Patriarch's own tactical superiority.

They would begin preparations immediately.

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