Rogue Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  Too far away.

  She leapt at the nearest archer even as she saw the quarrel fly from its bow. The second archer fired, and another quarrel creased her flank. Fire streaked down her hindquarters. She struck the ground and lay panting, her rear leg flailing beneath her. Nearby, a wolf howled in pain.

  Ash regained her legs as Torren’s Hound streaked past, clamping the first of the apparitions in her great jaws. The wraith disintegrated along with whatever force empowered it. The Hound spun and pounced on the second. In an instant they were gone.

  Ash struggled upright, battle lust coloring the world in blood. She’d heard that first quarrel find its mark.

  The Alpha.

  Ash swung around. Zora stood panting, unharmed, but a wolf lay before her, a quarrel embedded in her chest.

  Jace!

  Howling, raging, Ash raced to Jace’s side. Jace’s eyes were closed, the black-tipped silver pelt on her chest soaked with blood. But she lived. Ash straddled her, shielding her with her body, and showed her canines to warn everyone away. The battle receded into the background. How long it went on she didn’t know. None of that mattered now. Her only need, her only purpose, was to protect Jace.

  A wolf approached and Ash snarled and lunged.

  Zora halted abruptly a foot away. Ash, release her.

  Ash growled in challenge.

  Another wolf raced toward her, silver and black like Jace. Jonathan growled, and Ash snapped at him.

  Jonathan’s Alpha appeared and shouldered him out of the way.

  Ash, Sylvan commanded, you must let us help her. She is mine to protect.

  No, mine. Ash feared none. She showed her teeth.

  So be it, Sylvan said, but I am her Alpha. Torren can help her. Back away.

  Zora stood shoulder to shoulder with Sylvan. Ash’s Alpha. Jace’s Alpha.

  Ash shuddered under the force of their power. Whining with the pain of the assaulting instincts, she lay down with her side against Jace’s still body, growling softly in her throat.

  Zora ordered, Stay there. She will need to feel your presence.

  The Hound loped over, the great beast Lord shimmering, and Torren stepped forward. Crouching down, she placed her hand on Jace’s chest. Ash snarled.

  “Be calm, Wolf,” Torren murmured, looking deep into Ash’s eyes. “She’s lost blood, but the quarrel missed her heart and lungs. She will live.”

  Ash shuddered as an ancient power beyond the realm of wolves or humans washed over her. Despite the fear tearing at her soul, she was comforted.

  “I can stop the bleeding and a shift will repair the damage, but she will be weak,” Torren said. “Sylvan, can you force her to shed pelt?”

  Yes, Sylvan signaled.

  Zora said, Cresthome is an hour away by Rover. Our healers can tend to her until she’s strong enough to travel.

  Very well, Sylvan said.

  Power bloomed around Torren, a mist of glittering blue and crimson. She laid one hand on Jace’s chest. Ash, pressed close against Jace, was bombarded by heat and a different kind of power than she’d ever experienced. A force spread through her, as light and unbreakable as tempered steel. Torren gripped the metal arrow shaft with her other hand and slowly withdrew it. The blood that had flowed around it ceased.

  “Now, Sylvan,” Torren said.

  Sylvan transformed into half-form, an enormous looming Were whose call was like the summoning of the full moon. She growled, the sound like thunder emanating throughout the clearing, and everywhere, Weres shed pelt, shuddering with the abrupt change. Jace’s pelt melted away and she lay still, curled on her side, a bright red scar marking the entrance of the quarrel into her chest. Ash followed her Alpha into the change and knelt beside Jace, one arm supporting herself on the ground, the other on Jace’s flank. The sound of the Rovers filled the clearing, and an instant later Evan handed her shirt and pants.

  “We’re bringing a stretcher, Captain,” he said.

  Ash pulled on the clothes quickly, then stood over Jace’s too still form. “Why isn’t she waking up?”

  Torren gazed at her with a gentle smile. Her mate had come to her side and had an arm looped around Torren’s waist. “She is gathering her strength.”

  Jonathan and Ryan burst out of the forest carrying a stretcher. Jonathan bent to slide an arm under Jace’s shoulders and Ash growled.

  “Don’t touch her.”

  He glared at her. “She’s my sister.”

  “She’s mine.”

  “Ash,” Zora murmured. “Take her to Cresthome. Ryan and the others will not harm her.”

  Ash fought the crushing need to drive everyone away. To make sure no one hurt Jace again. “Yes, Alpha.” She glared at Jonathan and Ryan. “Be careful.”

  In seconds, they approached the Rover. Trent stood by the open rear door. The engine was running.

  Jonathan said gruffly, “She saved your Alpha.”

  “Yes.”

  “She made her choice.”

  “Yes.”

  Trent reached for the end of the stretcher and helped Ryan maneuver it inside. Ash jumped into the rear to be sure Jace was secured. Jonathan leapt in and settled opposite her. He gave her a long look.

  “See that she recovers.”

  “I will.”

  He gripped the side of the stretcher but did not attempt to touch Jace again.

  “You should hurry up with the mating. As soon as she is able.” He glanced at her, a faint smile on his strained face. “Otherwise, you’ll be fighting everyone, all the time.”

  She growled at him and he laughed, but his face was pale. His wolf, like hers, was frantic.

  “I can sense you,” Ash said.

  “She’s my twin.”

  “Then you know what I feel.”

  “I do.” He let out a long sigh. “Just be sure she does.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You and your wolves fought well,” Sylvan said to Zora as she, Drake, Jonathan, and the Snowcrest Alpha clustered around the closed door to the treatment room.

  Zora grimaced. “We would not have prevailed without your warriors.”

  Cresthome was a quarter the size of the Compound and not as heavily fortified. The century of isolation had left the Pack devoid of a warrior class and ill-prepared for hostilities like the ones they had just encountered. Zora glanced toward the closed door where the Snowcrest healer tended to Jace. “Your centuri put herself between me and a quarrel.”

  “As she should have,” Sylvan said.

  Jonathan growled. “If your captain had been faster—”

  Zora’s dark eyes glittered. “Would you challenge now, Wolf?”

  Jonathan trembled and a steady grumble emanated from his chest. “I…”

  “No, he would not.” Drake swept an arm around Jonathan’s shoulders and dragged him close to her side. “I apologize for our centuri, Alpha Constantine. His worry over his sister strains his control.”

  “I understand,” Zora said stiffy. “Our healer is skilled, and Lord Torren made certain that the injury would be limited.”

  “Yes, and Jace is strong,” Drake murmured to Jonathan.

  “I should be with her.”

  “Ash is with her, and right now, the healer needs space to work without chaotic energy to block what she is doing.”

  He clenched his jaws, his blue eyes still slashed with gold.

  “I can sense her,” Drake said. “So can the Alpha, and so can you. Feel her strength. Trust her. Trust us. The Alpha and I will not let any harm come to one of ours.”

  Shakily, Jonathan nodded his head. “Yes, Prima.”

  The door opened at the far end of the building, and Torren entered with Misha at her side. In her first appearance since the battle in the forest, the royal Fae now wore narrow-legged black leather pants tucked into calf high gleaming black boots and a flowing sleeved blood-red shirt. Her naturally translucent complexion was a shade paler than normal, and her mate kept a subtle arm around her waist.

&n
bsp; “Stay here,” Drake ordered Jonathan, as if anything could move him from his sister’s treatment room, and joined Sylvan and Zora with Torren and Misha.

  “How is your wolf?” Torren asked.

  “Improving,” Sylvan said. “She won’t be at full strength for a while, but I can sense her recovery is far faster than I would’ve expected.” She raised an eyebrow. “Your influence?”

  Torren smiled faintly. “I did little more than stop the spread of the damage. Your wolves are strong, and her bond with Ash and you is doing the rest.”

  Misha grimaced. “She would not admit the healing weakened her, Alpha. The quarrels were tainted.”

  “Poisoned?” Zora growled.

  “A tincture known to cause the flesh to die beyond the direct area of injury,” Torren said. “The process is subtle at first, and by the time it’s recognized…” She shrugged. “Often too late.”

  “She pulled that into her own body,” Misha snapped.

  “My lady worries,” Torren said, stroking Misha’s hair. “The battle was unexpected, as were our adversaries and their…armamentarium. But I assure you, my powers remain unabated.”

  Sylvan laughed, appreciating the arrogance. Torren was a power she would not want as an enemy, and indeed, she was a formidable ally. She was also a friend, and Sylvan would not insult by thanking her again. “What were they? Those creatures out there? I’ve never seen them before.”

  “Some kind of abomination,” Torren said darkly. “Those boar-beasts are not natural in the realm of Faerie. We have something like that, burshee, but they tend to be docile creatures, mainly herbivores who forage in the lowlands, and not used for battle. I think these were those gentle animals somehow transformed for war.”

  “The wolves were changed somehow too,” Sylvan said. “Not just their appearance, but their aura. I can sense the spirit of wolf Weres even when they aren’t mine, but I could glean no connection to them. All I found was darkness that reeked of some foul force.”

  Zora growled. “The wolves that came through that Gate—some were once mine. I recognized three of our missing sentries, but they were changed. I could no longer reach them.”

  “That’s because they were dead,” Torren said.

  “Reanimated?” Sylvan said flatly, the rage that welled inside her carrying her wolf into her eyes.

  “Ensorcelled, yes,” Torren said. “And controlled by a necromancer. A powerful one, to control them between realms, and to keep them enslaved until the moment of their true death.”

  “Are they vampiric?” Zora asked.

  Torren shook her head. “Not in the sense that Vampires have a life force—they can heal if provided blood, and some would argue even the Risen are capable of emotion, form loyalties, and, in the case of the very old or very powerful, are able to reproduce. These beings had no souls, no independent life force. They were puppets.”

  Sylvan said, “Is Cecilia capable of doing that? Creating and controlling the dead?”

  “The Queen of Thorns is powerful indeed,” Torren said matter-of-factly. “And it is not unheard of in the history of Faerie for our most powerful Queens to acquire greater and often darker powers as they age. Cecilia is still quite young, only centuries old, but necromancy is a power not natural to the Fae.”

  “A Mage then,” Drake said, frowning at Sylvan. “Until now they have not concerned themselves with Praetern issues.”

  “New alliances abound,” Sylvan muttered.

  “If indeed a sorcerer is behind this,” Torren said, “they are unknown to me.”

  Zora spoke up. “And the Gate that they used to access the Snowcrest territory? Will they return this night?”

  Torren flashed a bright smile of lethal pleasure. “They will not employ that portal again. I have warded it, and any attempt to cross over will disable the travelers.”

  “What about its appearance in some other space,” Drake asked. “Snowcrest, or Timberwolf?”

  “It’s possible,” Torren said, “but divining a Gate that precise, capable of transmitting beings of such power, requires a tremendous gathering and expenditure of energy. I would not expect a recurrence anytime soon.” She shrugged. “But at some point? Perhaps.”

  Sylvan rumbled. “Is there any way to anticipate when or where they might next break through?”

  “I don’t know,” Torren mused, “and that makes me unhappy. This is something…new. You must understand that in a realm as ancient as Faerie, something new is often something to be feared.”

  Sylvan snarled. “We will not be daunted by enemies, alive or dead or otherwise.”

  “Then you must be prepared for battle at all times,” Torren said.

  Sylvan drew Drake to her side and pulled Zora’s gaze. The Snowcrest Alpha bared her canines, and Sylvan smiled. “We will be.”

  * * *

  Ash curled her arm tighter around Jace’s middle and buried her face in Jace’s hair. Jace had not yet awoken, but her heart thrummed steadily, and her blood pulsed full and strong. Deep in healing sleep, her back rested against Ash’s front, her wolf curled deep in the shadows, watchful and protective. Ash covered as much of her as she could, sending her strength and comfort. She would have given her life and breath if she’d been able, but their bond was not yet complete enough for her to do that. Soon, it would be. With every passing heartbeat, their connection grew tighter, even without the final union.

  When the door opened, soft light filtered in and partially illuminated the bed. Growling softly, Ash crowded closer to Jace.

  “Rest easy,” Sylvan said. “It’s time to finish Jace’s healing.”

  Sylvan bounded lightly over the two of them and stretched out on Jace’s far side, facing Jace, and resting a hand on the crest of her hip. Jace twitched and rumbled as the Alpha’s power enveloped her. Drake settled behind Ash with Ash’s head against her chest. The Prima’s healing strength rushed through Ash’s body, and through her, to Jace.

  “Close your eyes, Ash,” Drake murmured. “You have done what needed to be done. You have given her the best of you, and now, the Pack will do the rest. You both have earned a rest.”

  Ash closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t sleep, but trusting that she would be safe in the arms of the Alpha pair. The Pack would protect Jace now.

  * * *

  As Jace climbed to awareness, she knew Ash held her. Ash’s scent, fresh snow and morning mist, unmistakable, her signature like none other. Jace came fully awake to the sensation of her body tightly coiled in the curve of Ash’s. Warm breath coursed against the back of her neck, a possessive hand spread out across her abdomen, and one leg draped over hers. Jace stretched, yawned, registered the urge in her limbs to run, her heart pounding strong and steady. Deep inside, her wolf stood, shook, and sniffed the air—ready to hunt, and more. So much more, and soon. Jace turned on her side and opened her eyes. Ash’s intent dark gaze met hers. Flashes of the battle returned with her burgeoning awareness.

  Strange beasts, Weres that resembled wolves but were…other, and wraithlike creatures with unworldly substance, armed with crossbows and deadly quarrels. Aimed at the Snowcrest Alpha, aimed at Ash.

  Jace snarled and pushed up on one arm, running her gaze over Ash’s body. She was naked, her sleek form a canvas of beauty and deadly promise. “Were you hurt? I remember archers.”

  “I am fine,” Ash said. “Minor wounds, gone now. And you, centuri? How are you?”

  Jace chuckled and kissed her. “I have but one need.”

  Ash’s breath drew in sharply. “And what would that be?”

  “You know.” Jace ran her fingers through Ash’s hair, brushed her thumb over the arch of her cheek.

  “In time,” Ash murmured, struggling to mask the ravenous need unleashed by finding Jace awake and healthy and so close. Her body readied, her wolf surged, every instinct demanding release now that the rage and fear had subsided.

  “Why must we wait,” Jace asked, stroking Ash’s breast. She lowered her head, grazed her c
anines across the hot, swollen flesh above Ash’s breast. The flesh that was hers to claim. Her neck burned for Ash’s mouth, for the moment they would join.

  “You were seriously injured,” Ash said. “And still healing.”

  Jace stilled. “I remember archers aiming at you, aiming at your Alpha. Was she hurt?”

  “No,” Ash said, “thanks to you. You risked your life to save our Alpha. Snowcrest will not forget that.”

  Jace lifted a shoulder. “I did my duty. But I am glad she is unharmed. Did we take losses?”

  “None serious.” Ash’s grip on her shoulder tightened. Her hand was hot, her claws sharp against Jace’s skin. “Other than you. The Fae Torren administered to you, and then the Snowcrest medic completed the healing.”

  “And you,” Jace said. “I felt you with me, always.”

  “I would not leave you.” Ash kissed her. “If you choose, I will never leave you.”

  “We will not have an easy road,” Jace said, surprised at how calm and sure her wolf had become. Now that she knew, beyond all question, that Ash was her mate, she could be patient. She would hunt her mate, if her mate enjoyed being chased. She would lie in the shade of the great pines, her breath and body still, her heartbeat as slow and quiet as the new moon rising. She would chase and be chased, as long as Ash needed. “You are still Snowcrest, and I, Timberwolf.”

  Ash nodded. “And so it shall ever be. But if we are not united, our wolves will be forever seeking, and forever denied. I would not have you take another mate.”

  “Nor I you.” Jace snarled. “You taunt me now.”

  “Do I?”

  “You will not leave this room until you are mine for all to know.”

  “Will you accept Snowcrest as Pack, as I accept Timberwolf?” Ash asked.