"Chat? Is this some sort of sick joke?" Rosa said, displeased.
Morgan looked at her some more, observing her features.
"A widowed beauty. The barkeep spoke the truth," Morgan said, flirtatiously.
Rosa's eyes widened out of shock. "Harvey—what did you do to him?"
"Nothing he can't recover from," Morgan said ambiguously. He approached her. Rosa stood her ground, trembling only slightly. Beneath the collar of his armor, he brought out a silver pendant.
"Do you know what this is?"
Rosa took a closer look at the pendant. It showed a mounted wolf engraved on a circular foundation, with three slashes across the face. On its back was a detachable wolf's skull piece.
"Yes, I do," Rosa said, her gaze returning to Morgan. "You're part of the hunters."
Winter, by instinct, also pulled out a pendant. The wolf's head was present, but there was nothing on the back—only an empty space.
She had only been a hunter for a few months, after all.
That made her a squire, not yet skilled enough to be truly called a hunter. In the ranks, the next would be an Acolyte: a fang; Bloodhound: a claw; Death-Stalker: a jaw; Reaper: a wolf's skull; and finally, Inhuman.
Kills were the primary factor used to determine a hunter's rank, but they were certainly not the only condition. If they were, Winter suspected her father would have held a higher rank than he did now.
She had never seen an Inhuman-ranked hunter—at least, not yet.
"You are right, I am a hunter," Morgan said, placing his pendant back. "And I'm here doing what a hunter must—tracking their prey. Answer our questions, and you may never see us again."
"Get on with it then," Rosa said spitefully.
"Very well. Not too long ago, you led a man into your home. He's a beast—a werewolf. A monster hiding in human skin. What is your relationship with that man?"
Rosa froze. Her defiant demeanor hadn't disappeared, but it was wavering.
"He's… he's nothing to me. Just a stranger," Rosa said.
"Triss," Morgan called out without turning back.
"She speaks the truth," Triss answered.
"Good," Morgan said, smiling softly. "It would have been a shame to kill you."
Rosa shifted away from them.
"We're not done here," Morgan continued. "If you have no relationship with the beast, why let him into your home? What did he want from you?"
Rosa fell silent, vexing Morgan.
If Rosa told the truth, she might have been spared—but what about her daughter? What about Andrea?
That boy… Fenris. Was he really a werewolf? she thought. From the stories he had told about himself and her daughter, she had helped him—a lot. Her heart almost stopped when she came to another realization.
Those bandits in his stories… were they actually hunters?
Her eyes shifted to Triss. She recognized the patterns on her robes. She knew Triss was a Seeker, and she knew lying would be pointless.
"Answer me, woman!" Morgan shouted, impatiently. "I'm sure even a peasant like yourself knows the consequences of not aiding us."
Rosa remained silent, clenching her fists. This time, she summoned the courage to look into Morgan's cold eyes.
"I have nothing to say or give to you. Leave my home."
Morgan sighed, disappointed. I'll do more than that.
Morgan rushed back into her home, breaking more things this time with no regard whatsoever.
"What are you doing? Stop!" Rosa screamed, terrified. She rushed toward her home but was tackled by Winter.
"Let me go!" Rosa screamed repeatedly.
"I can't," Winter said, her voice cracking. "Trust me, I'm trying to help you."
"What do you—" Rosa paused. She saw Morgan coming out of her home, a runed sword of flames in his hand. Her terrified yet pleading eyes met his cold, uncaring gaze.
"When I was destroying your things, I couldn't help but realize something," Morgan said, turning back. "You're the only one who lives here, and yet the way you kept it… almost like you're waiting for someone to return."
Rosa gasped, causing Morgan to form a crooked smile.
"I'm right, aren't I?" he said.
He knelt, the flaming sword still in hand.
"Your barkeep friend was smart enough to make the right decision. When presented with the same ultimatum… will you be?"
Rosa wanted to speak—to say anything to stop Morgan—but she couldn't. Her daughter, the one she had been waiting for to return, would be in danger.
She lowered her head toward the dirt, biting her lip.
"That's a shame. It was a beautiful home," Morgan said.
He stood and swung his sword toward the house.
A crescent of flame crashed into it, setting it ablaze in seconds.
"NOOOOOOO!" Rosa screamed from her very soul, trying to push Winter off—almost succeeding, despite Winter's runed gauntlets enhancing her strength, just like her father's.
"You'll burn for this—all of you! Pyros will burn your souls for all eternity! None of you will know peace! I swear it!"
Tears ran down Rosa's cheeks like a stream, her eyes red with fury. Like a trapped animal, she struggled for freedom.
"Quit your bitching, will you?" Ragnar said, cleaning his ear.
Winter looked at Ragnar with disgust. Ragnar rolled his eyes, uncaring.
Morgan threw chain shackles near Winter and Rosa.
"Chain her," he commanded.
"What? Why?" Winter asked, hesitant. "We've already burned her house. Haven't we done enough to her?"
"Have you forgotten why we're here, child?" Morgan asked, disappointed. "We're on a hunt. And this woman has information she's unwilling to share. Perhaps she'll change her mind when she meets one of our guild's torturers."
Winter's heart dropped, and her eyes darted to the shackles. Rosa had stopped struggling; all her energy had been spent.
"What are you waiting for?" Morgan asked, impatiently.
"I…" Winter stuttered, her eyes turning to Triss. She seemed equally displeased with the whole situation. "This doesn't feel right. Maybe we could try something else."
Morgan hissed. "I don't have time for this."
He clenched his hand. The ring glowed, and so did Ragnar's slave crest around his neck, sparking slightly.
"Ragnar, chain the woman and place her on her steed."
The werewolf groaned but ultimately obeyed. He shoved Winter to the side, making her crash into the dirt. She protested silently, her eyes shaking as she looked to her father.
He did nothing except climb back onto his horse. Ragnar did the same, hoisting Rosa across his saddle as she mumbled curses at them all.
"Are you coming, or do you still wish to act rebelliously?" Morgan asked, not looking at her.
With heavy steps, she walked over and mounted her horse.
"I'm proud of you," Triss whispered.
Winter stiffened. These were words she never thought she'd hear from Triss.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To our headquarters. To Agni," Morgan replied.
They rode out of town, taking the grieving Rosa with them.