War: Feral Hearts Book One

by Knight, Gwen

  “Because I made it clear the moment I walked in here that I wouldn’t be dating anyone since my heart belongs to someone else. Not that there’s much to do in the safe zone, anyway.”

  Luna leaned against the stand with a sigh. “Right? No alcohol, so no bars. No bars mean no dancing. And there’s the mess hall for meals if we don’t want to cook in our houses. I wouldn’t have dated Fritz before the darkness, and I’m not about to now.”

  “I understand. You wanna sneak out, and I’ll handle the trading?”

  “You’re a gem!”

  Emma chuckled as Luna gave her the pack and darted away. Turning her attention to the stalls, she found the apples and traded a jar of stevia, which allowed her to fill up the pack with apples. “Anybody have pears, Mildred?” she asked the older woman who ran the stall.

  “I’ve seen some around, check with Dennis.”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  “Thanks for the sweetener.”

  Emma found Dennis, and picked up the last few pears he had, trading them for eggplant. It was her last action on her list. Hefting the heavy pack onto her back, Emma made her way to the door. Fritz blocked her path.

  “Hello, Emma.”

  “Hey.”

  “Where’s Luna? I thought I saw her.”

  “Just me, I’m afraid.” Pointing with her thumb over her shoulder, Emma said, “This pack is heavy, and I’ve got a two-mile walk back, so if you don’t mind.”

  “I could give you a ride.” He jerked his head out the door to where a Jeep waited.

  “I like the walk, thanks anyway.”

  He held the door open for her, and she caught a whiff of body odor, which made her nose wrinkle. She waved goodbye as she stepped outside, hurrying away from the store. Foiling any attempt to follow her and give her a ride, she darted down a side path, weaving her way through the homes secured for the militia. One was General Taylor’s and the grand home reminded Emma of a mansion. Now considered the militia’s command center, there were always guards stationed at the front.

  She turned down another side path, and just as she reached the corner, she heard voices coming from the back porch of Taylor’s home. Pausing, curiosity getting the better of her, she listened intently.

  “Friday night,” a man said. His voice was whiskey-rough, and Emma thought it might be one of Taylor’s high ranked men.

  “Yes,” Taylor said. She heard an inhale and then a sharp exhale, and she wondered if he was smoking. “Munitions are coming from Fort Kingdom tomorrow night at eleven, which will shore up our stock. With the firepower coming from the other fort, we’ll have no losses on our side, and we will eliminate the wolves. Then we’ll really have a reason to celebrate on Saturday.”

  “Expanding our territory into the Pinelands will be worth the effort,” the other man said. “We lose a scavenger at least once a week to a wolf attack.”

  Emma’s heart jumped into her throat.

  The militia was planning to attack the pack?

  War!

  She listened to the men discuss the specifics regarding the delivery of guns and ammunition from another fort. And the plan for killing every wolf in the Pinelands so Fort Allegiance could expand to include the woods and freshwater sources. The details ringing in her ears, she hurried home without being detected and went straight to Luna, who was in her bedroom reading.

  “I need your help,” Emma said, closing the bedroom door.

  “Of course,” she replied without hesitation. “Whatever you need.”

  “I have to get out of the safe zone. The wolves are in danger.”

  2

  The wolf lowered his muzzle to the earth and huffed the grass surrounding a massive fence. A strange scent tickled his nose, something familiar and sweet. Something delicious. His instincts screamed to track it, hunt it, take it, make it his. But the familiar note made him think he’d already claimed it before. Like it’d once belonged to him. No, not once. It was his. And he wanted it back.

  He lifted his head and peered at the massive barricade the humans had put in place to keep him out. Humans, he thought, his lips curling into a snarl. They hated his kind. Hated their teeth and their claws. But this wall kept him from something, something he couldn’t remember.

  Unfortunately, there was much he couldn’t remember.

  He was pure wolf. But some time ago, he’d been different. He’d gone by a different name. Another thing he couldn’t recall. But this particular scent made him want to be something more.

  Something different.

  It was like a memory of a memory. A faded dream. A woman. Beautiful. Kind. Giving. His.

  Another low snarl graced his lips. How he wanted to rip down this stupid wall just to see what was inside. Food, definitely. Maybe he wouldn’t need to hunt anymore. Maybe he’d find the source of this intoxicating scent that wouldn’t quit.

  Something brushed his shoulder.

  The wolf glanced over to find one of his brothers standing next to him, pale green eyes staring up at the wall. But instead of anger, there was something else in his brother’s eyes, an unfamiliar twinkle.

  Curiosity, he realized.

  Well, they could be curious all they wanted. There was no getting past this barricade. The thorns alone would shred their fur and slice open their sides. The wolf had seen it happen before. And he didn’t wish that torture on anyone. It’d been a slow, painful death. Until finally, he’d wrapped his jaws around his brother’s throat and bit till all went silent.

  He butted his head against his brother’s side and nudged him away. It was his job as their alpha to keep them safe. A job he took seriously.

  When his brother didn’t move, the wolf growled and nipped his ear, before a single, guttural word rose in his mind. Move.

  His brother dropped his head and immediately fell in line, obeying the unspoken command.

  They’d moved a few feet when a loud pop exploded through the trees.

  The wolf jumped, his gaze wide as he analyzed the forest for a threat. He lifted his nose into the air and sniffed. Something metallic and oily replaced the teasing scent from before. Guns.

  A howl poured out of his mouth, the sorrowful bay warning his pack mates of the attack. The humans were nearby. Above the wall, if his nose could be trusted. Guards protecting their wall and den. Like he protected theirs.

  Another loud pop. Except this one was accompanied by a sharp yip.

  The wolf whirled around, his eyes landing on his brother.

  No!

  The bitter stench of blood wafted through the air. It stirred the wolf’s protective nature. He threw his head back, an enraged howl renting the eternal night. Wolves poured out of the trees, surrounding him and their injured brother.

  Whining, the wolf lowered his head and nudged his pack mate.

  No response.

  The wolf nudged him again, his whine quieter. Almost a question.

  But he knew the truth. His brother was gone. Stolen from them by the humans. If he could, he’d kill them all. Sink his fangs into their throats until they, too, stopped moving. If not for that damn wall.

  The wolf turned, his narrowed gaze locking on the towers in the distance. Perched on top stood the human who’d killed his brother. His keen gaze took in everything. The muddy colored hair, the thin body, even his stance. The wolf preferred to hunt by scent, but the man stood too far away.

  Regardless, he stored that information in his memory.

  One day, he’d return the favor.

  He turned back to his fallen comrade, a final quiet whine slipping past his lips. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, then touched his nose to his brother’s, offering a silent farewell. One by one, his other pack mates did the same before slowly vanishing back into the trees.

  He needed to go as well. He had a pack to tend to and territory to defend.

  They’d recently learned a second pack had begun encroaching on their land. And the wolf refused to allow that to happen. This was his land. His brethren had
spilled blood here. He wouldn’t lose it now. Not after everything.

  But instead of slinking back into the trees alongside his brothers, the wolf lifted his nose and drew in another long breath. There, beneath the metal and blood, was the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled. The familiarity both soothed and upset him. He didn’t like that he couldn’t remember it, and yet, could at the same time.

  Holding the scent close to his chest, he finally turned and trailed after his brothers.

  There was much to mourn, but the wolf intended to sleep with that scent wrapped around him. Perhaps one day he would remember.

  * * *

  Luna put her book down, giving Emma a long, quiet look. “You’re certain?”

  Emma paced as she explained what she’d overheard. “I have to warn the wolves. The army is going to gather Friday night at nine o’clock and explain to the safe zone residents that they are performing training drills. That way, they can keep everyone in their homes under an early curfew and negate any questions about gunfire. Then Saturday, they’ll be celebrating expanding the safe zone’s territory to include the Pinelands—the land of War’s pack—as part of the city. That leaves me a little over two days to warn the wolves and get back into the safe zone without being noticed.”

  “What about roll call?” Luna asked, concern deepening her frown. “They’ll know you’re missing.”

  “That’s why I need your help. You can come up with something, I believe in you. Please, Luna, I need your help.”

  “I know you love War, but he’s feral. Everything that we’ve learned about the wolves since the darkness took over is that they’re not human anymore. It’s like the darkness did something to their humanity, and they’re natural animals, not shifters.”

  Emma’s eyes stung with tears. She felt helpless. “I have to try.”

  “What if he kills you? You’re hoping he realizes it’s you when there’s no evidence that any wolf shifter has recognized any human in the darkness.”

  Emma closed her eyes and clenched her hands. She knew that leaving the safe zone—by herself, no less—was a foolish and incredibly dangerous thing to do. But she loved War. Even if he wasn’t the sexy man of her dreams anymore, he was still her alpha and she was his mate, and that meant something. It meant she had to try. War was the kindest and most supportive man she’d ever met. He wouldn’t give up if their roles were reversed. He wouldn’t just let an army destroy her without at least attempting to avoid catastrophe.

  Opening her eyes, Emma said, “Will you help me or not?”

  “I don’t like it, but yes, I will.”

  Relief swamped Emma, and she nearly crumpled to the floor.

  “I need to get out without being seen by any of the guards,” Emma said, perching on the edge of the bed.

  “There’s a tunnel. It leads from underneath a house to about twenty feet inside the tree line.”

  Emma frowned. “How is there a tunnel, and how do you know about it?”

  “Remember back in January when I decided to clean the old cobwebs outta my lady place and sleep with Brent O’Brien?”

  Nodding, Emma said, “I remember you said it was the shortest, least fun thing you ever did.”

  Luna snorted. “For sure. Well, I wasn’t about to spend the entire night with a guy who couldn’t make me even halfway happy during sex, so after he fell asleep, I snuck out. It was past curfew, so I had to zigzag around in the shadows to avoid the patrols. They’re not worried about people inside the fence, more about what’s outside getting in, but I still didn’t want to get caught. I was hiding by one of the older houses that the militia uses—in the neighborhood that we always say looks like a trailer park—and I heard a creaking sound. I peeked around the corner and saw a handful of militia guys coming up from a cellar. They carried cases of alcohol and boxes of other things.”

  “They’re smuggling alcohol inside the safe zone?”

  “Yep. I waited for a half-hour to see if anyone else came out of the cellar. Then I snuck down myself. It was hollow—it must have taken months to move all that dirt and reinforce the walls. There are little pigeonholes and alcoves dug into the dirt for storage. I found crates of porn magazines, food, and medication, but mostly alcohol.”

  “Did you follow the tunnel all the way out?”

  “I didn’t leave the tunnel, but yes. It must be a mile long, and it sloped up like a ramp with a reinforced door at the end. I pushed it up and peeked out, and I was in the woods.”

  Emma was amazed, but also not really surprised. The soldiers doing the smuggling were probably trading the coveted items for other things—maybe more food or fuel or using them to coerce women to sleep with them. People always found a way around rules they didn’t like.

  “You can’t go with me, you know. It’s dangerous enough for me, and I can’t risk you being hurt.”

  “I know, babe. I want to go with you, but I’d honestly probably just piss myself at the first howl I heard.”

  Chuckling, Emma hugged her best friend. “What do you think I should do about the timing?”

  “Curfew is ten o’clock. It was after two a.m. when I saw them leave, so I imagine they wait until curfew, sneak out and then sneak back in after midnight.”

  “I should hide before curfew and then I can watch who goes in and see when they come out.”

  “Smart. That way you won’t run into anyone.”

  Emma nodded. Rising to her feet, she looked at the clock on Luna’s nightstand. The hours would pass quickly, and then she’d leave Fort Allegiance, find her mate, and save the day.

  She was feeling positively hero-like.

  And she’d be really happy if she actually survived the night.

  * * *

  Emma wore all black, from the long-sleeved shirt and tactical pants she’d traded for at the market earlier that afternoon, bartering some precious books for the shirt and one of Marianne’s apple pies and a jar of stevia for the pants. Luna’s black tennis shoes were a little snug on Emma’s feet, but they were better than her own white tennis shoes. Her blond hair was in a bun, a navy blue stocking cap on her head to cover her golden tresses. Luna had explained exactly how to get to the house with the cellar tunnel, and she wedged herself in between a stack of cut wood and a steel drum for trash in the house across the dirt path. She’d hidden at nine thirty, hugging the side of the house and making herself as small as possible. Once curfew was in effect, soldiers patrolling the area came close to where she hunkered down.

  After the patrol passed, it was another two hours before she heard footsteps and saw one soldier move stealthily through the shadows to the cellar, unlock and open the door, and whistle softly. Ten soldiers hurried inside, one-by-one disappearing into the darkness. The first soldier followed, closing the door behind him. Marking time, Emma waited for nearly two more hours until the soldiers returned to the surface, arms laden with items.

  She wondered if they were raiding stores or homes. She didn’t think they were staying in the Pinelands, the wooded area belonged to the wolves. But they couldn’t get to the towns and cities by walking, so they must have had bikes or vehicles stashed somewhere. Shaking her head, she wondered how they’d been able to smuggle things into the safe zone with no one knowing. Whoever the soldiers were, they’d kept the secret. She’d never even heard a rumor about a way to get out of the fort.

  By the time the soldiers locked the cellar and departed, every joint in her body ached from sitting still for so long. She straightened from her crouch and listened intently for sounds of soldiers returning or patrols on their rounds. When she was certain it was clear, she hurried to the cellar. They sealed the wooden doors with a combination lock, but she didn’t need to worry about that. She used a screwdriver and removed the screws from one side of the hinge, tucking them and the screwdriver into her pocket.

  Lifting the side of the hinge, she opened one door, looked around to be sure no one was watching, and climbed down into the cellar.

  Darkness eclipsed
her in the cellar, the doors blocked even the moonlight. She took out a small flashlight she’d liberated from the kitchen drawer and twisted the top. The beam illuminated the area, and she cast it around the space. It reminded her of one she’d seen in a movie based in the south. The walls were made of concrete blocks. The golden light caught the far wall, where they’d stacked boxes high enough to touch the ceiling.

  Just as Luna had told her.

  Emma hurried to the closest stack and ducked to the side, finding a tarp adhered to the ceiling and draping on the floor. Pushing it aside, she sucked in a breath at the gaping hole in the concrete and the darkness beyond. The tunnel had been dug by shovels and the walls reinforced with beams that looked like they had taken them from a lumberyard. It was just tall enough for her to walk into without hitting her head.

  Keeping the light beam in front of her, she walked as quickly as she dared on the uneven ground, occasionally tripping on a root or piece of trash.

  Eventually, the ground sloped gradually, and she tipped the flashlight up to see the door. It was a steel door that locked from the inside with several latches. She reached up for the door, and her shoe slipped on the dirt, and she tumbled down the slope, banging her shoulder as she fell against the wall.

  Cursing, she rolled to her knees and looked at her shoulder. Her skin was red and bleeding from several scratches where her shirt tore. Blowing out a breath, she rose to her feet and dusted herself off, then headed up the slope again. This time, she dug her feet into the dirt as she reached the door, unfastening the latches, and pressing her palms to the door.

  She hadn’t been outside of the safe zone in months. While she wasn’t exactly sure where she was in the forest known as the Pinelands, she knew she was in the territory of War’s pack. As much as the humans patrolled the safe zone, the wolves patrolled the Pinelands. She knew what the militia officially said, each safe zone’s general sharing information on the wolf shifters. All over the world, humans were the wolves’ favorite thing to hunt and kill. They were not to be trifled with, could not be reasoned with like the rational beings they’d been before the darkness. What she was doing was akin to suicide. She didn’t even know if—on the off-chance she could even find War in the woods—he’d be able to understand her.