by Raand, L. L.
“You could have overpowered her,” Sylvan said. “You could have trapped her in an illusion.”
“My goal was to reach you,” Torren said. “Had I needed to, I would have enchanted her, but her wolf called to my hawk. Her wolf heard my song.”
Sylvan sighed. “These things should not happen.”
“I agree, but the world is not as it once was,” Torren said. “Time changes all.”
“Soon we shall discover just how much.” Sylvan walked to the door. “You are no longer under house arrest. Do not leave the Compound, but you are free to move about.”
Torren’s fingers closed lightly around Misha’s hand. Misha’s fingers twitched and entwined with hers. “I’ll stay here.”
“As you wish. I’ll have food sent. She will be very hungry when she awakens.”
“I’ll see that she receives what she needs.”
Sylvan gave her a long stare. “Don’t forget, she is mine.”
“I understand.” Torren’s smile was as light and sure as the breeze that carried the hawk’s proud call to Sylvan’s wolf. “For now.”
*
Sylvan found Jazz and Niki waiting outside in the hall, their anxiety a palpable weight in the air. “She will live.”
Jazz’s shoulders slumped and he dropped to his knees before Sylvan, his head bowed. “I am sorry, Alpha. I saw…I saw the beast and I thought…I thought—”
“You couldn’t have known. None of us have ever seen the Hunt Master’s Hound.” Sylvan threaded her fingers through Jazz’s hair and pulled him close. His arms came around her waist and he pressed hard into her heat. She stroked his hair and regarded Niki over his head. “Where is Sophia?”
“She is seeing to the Were prisoner.”
“Why?” Sylvan tensed. “By whose order? I said the prisoner should not—”
“My order, Alpha.” Niki’s shoulders straightened. “Gray talked with her, learned things I had not. Things you need to know. The prisoner was more badly injured than I realized, and I did not want her to die.”
“Where are they?” Sylvan couldn’t fault Niki’s decision, but she didn’t want the renegade wolf anywhere near Drake. She still wanted to kill every last Blackpaw for the attack on her lands and the injury to her mate.
“In the detention center still.” Niki’s canines flashed. “Max is standing guard while Sophia treats her.”
“Good.” Sylvan knew how uneasy Niki must be with Sophia so close to a prisoner. Only Niki’s loyalty to Sylvan and her imperative to protect her Alpha could keep Niki from her mate. “Go to her. When Sophia is done, have her tend to Misha. She is healing, but I want to be sure.”
Niki glanced at the door. “What about the Fae?”
“She is free to move about the Compound.”
Niki’s lip curled. “Without a guard?”
“She has shown no evidence of hostility, and she saved Misha’s life.”
“It is because of her, Misha nearly died. She trespassed and has brought nothing but trouble.”
“She escaped imprisonment and sought sanctuary with us. She shared knowledge with me. And she risked her life for Misha. She has earned trust.”
Niki grumbled in her chest but didn’t protest. “I will not leave Sophia alone with her.”
“I’m not asking you to. But do not provoke the Fae just so you will have a chance to fight.”
Niki’s brows rose and her forest-green eyes sparked with an instant of amusement and mischief. “I cannot know what will provoke one such as her.”
“Use your imagination.” Sylvan growled the order but her heart lifted. Niki was as ever-unchanging as the mountains that guarded their lands. Strong, stubborn, unyielding, and unrelenting in her loyalty. She would punch through the clouds on the coldest, harshest winter day so the sun could warm them all. Sylvan gripped her neck and yanked her close. Jazz curled between their two bodies. “I need you whole and unharmed. Now and always.”
“I am always and ever yours.” Niki rubbed her face against Sylvan’s neck, their scents mingling, strengthening their bond. Her breath was warm against Sylvan’s throat, her body hot and hard against the length of hers.
Sylvan slid her arm down around Niki’s shoulders. “Thank you. I must see Drake, then we will find out what the prisoner knows.”
Jazz stood, his expression imploring. “I want to guard Misha.”
“Granted.” Sylvan squeezed his shoulder and eased open the door to Drake’s room. The sun had risen while she’d been caring for Misha, and soft golden light streamed through the window.
“There are no signs of fever,” Elena said from the bedside. “Her heart beats strong and steady. She is in some kind of deep healing sleep.”
“Are you sure?” Sylvan stroked Drake’s hair. They’d been apart for hours now, longer than any time since they’d been mated. The separation bruised her heart. “If she hasn’t shifted, how is she healing the deeper wounds?”
“I’ve been charting her vital signs carefully.” Elena rubbed Sylvan’s arm. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but she is healing as if she has shifted, even though she has not.”
“As if her wolf has taken control without showing herself?”
“It seems that way, Alpha,” Elena said.
“How?” Sylvan’s wolf could ride her even when she wasn’t in pelt, but the effort not to shift with her wolf ascendant required tremendous strength and control. Only a few Alphas ever managed it. Drake should not have been able to draw on her wolf’s power without shifting.
Elena hesitated. “It might be the result of her genetically engineered biology.”
“Do not speak of it. This is not something we want our enemies to know.”
“Not to anyone. My word.”
“Thank you.” Sylvan drew Elena near. “You are tired. Go. Rest. I will stay here.”
“You might need me—”
“We all need you.” Sylvan kissed her forehead. “Go, find your mate, let Roger care for you. I will call, if there is need.”
Elena leaned into Sylvan for an instant, drawing strength from her strength. “I will, Alpha.”
Once alone, Sylvan stretched out beside Drake, settling her mate against her body the way she often did after they’d tangled or when they awakened in the quiet before dawn. Her wolf sought Drake’s and found her lying quietly in a pool of sunlight, her head on her paws, her eyes closed. Sylvan pressed close against her, resting her head on Drake’s. Mate?
Drake’s wolf opened a sleepy eye, nipped at her muzzle. You worry too much. What are you doing here? Don’t you have business to attend to?
I missed you.
Then stay for a while. I am here.
When their wolves settled down to sleep, Sylvan buried her face in Drake’s hair. “I love you.”
Drake’s hand moved slowly over her abdomen, her breath a whisper against Sylvan’s throat. “I love you. Rest now.”
Sylvan’s heart eased and she closed her eyes.
*
In the mess hall, Katya heaped food onto a metal plate, carried it to one of the long tables, and sat down next to Gray. “I thought you had guard duty.”
“Sophia is with the prisoner. I’ve been relieved.”
“Huh.” Katya shoveled stew into her mouth and swallowed. “I can’t believe those wolves attacked us. No sense of honor, I guess.”
“They thought they had reason,” Gray snapped. “Where have you been?”
Katya raised a brow at the accusing tone. “Running with Eric. That’s why I’m starving. Why?”
“Did you tangle?”
Katya laughed and shook her head. “Is that all you think about?”
Gray’s brows furrowed. “Don’t you?”
“You don’t want me to answer that, not really. You only want to know what you want to hear.”
“I do want to know.” Gray stared at the rough surface of the plank table and picked at a splinter of wood. “It’s just…I’m afraid, and I’m afraid of being afraid
.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.” Katya slid close until their thighs touched. “The only thing wrong is letting your fear hold you prisoner.”
Gray wrapped her arm around Katya’s waist. The softness of Katya’s breast against her arm, the strength of her embrace, reached deep inside and comforted Gray’s wolf. She had been so lonely for so long and sometimes forgot that always when the darkness closed in, Katya had been there. “I know you’re right, but the anger is so much safer.”
“I’m angry too, and you’re right, anger is better than fear.” Katya straddled the bench and pulled Gray into the circle of her arms. After an instant, Gray relaxed into her hold. Katya kissed her cheek and nuzzled her hair. “Keep your anger,” Katya murmured, “but let the Pack take your fear.”
“I think we will be fighting soon,” Gray said. “The prisoner—she told me things.”
“What things?”
“Bernardo lied and told his wolves we captured some of their pregnant females. He’s the reason they attacked us.”
“You believe her?”
“Yes,” Gray said, thinking about the blood, and the pain, and the strength. “She’s too proud to lie.”
“If that’s true, the Alpha will challenge Bernardo.”
Gray grinned. “Yes, and if he doesn’t turn tail and run, she will destroy him.”
“I bet he starts a war because he’s too cowardly to stand to a challenge, and he’d rather see his wolves die than lose face,” Katya said.
“If Bernardo is the reason the Prima is hurt, the Alpha will paint the forest with his blood. And soon.”
“The Alpha will need soldiers. She’ll call us, don’t you think?”
Gray nodded. “We have proven ourselves. The Alpha has said so.”
“Good.” Katya was as eager as any wolf to protect their territory, and she might not have much time before the coming battle. She hadn’t tangled with Eric when he’d offered. She hadn’t tangled with any wolf since she’d been freed from captivity. She’d only given herself to Michel, only tasted Michel, and the need for her was a constant drumbeat in her body and her blood. She kissed Gray’s cheek quickly and stood. “Finish your breakfast and get some sleep. If we’re going to battle, we’ll have to be ready.”
“Where are you going?”
“Not far.”
Katya hurried outside and through the gates. Within seconds she’d shifted, and her wolf raced toward the city. Time was short, but Michel didn’t sleep, and she would know Katya was coming.
Chapter Twenty
Sylvan pushed open the cell door, ignoring the flash of pain in her palm as the silver burned a stripe across it, and stepped into the cramped dim space. Sophia knelt by the prisoner, a med bag open by her side. Max stood off to the right, his scorching glare riveted on the Blackpaw. The young female, wearing only gray fatigue pants, writhed on the narrow cot in an attempt to rise.
“Don’t. You’ll make the bleeding worse.” Sophia pressed her hand to the center of the prisoner’s chest. The prisoner snapped and thrashed, her claws shooting out, red-gold pelt flaring down the center of her taut, slender abdomen.
“Stay still,” Sylvan roared, and every wolf in the vicinity shuddered and ducked their heads. The prisoner cringed and backed against the wall in a defensive position. Blood trailed across the stones beneath her. The prisoner’s scent, full of pain and fury, nearly obliterated the undercurrent of fear. Any rational wolf would fear an Alpha, but this one wanted to fight more than she wanted to run. In any other wolf, Sylvan would have admired the trait. Now she didn’t even regret that she would have to kill a brave fighter.
Sophia glanced over her shoulder, her face pale, her eyes imploring. “Please, Alpha, she needs to be in the infirmary. She is bleeding and I—”
“Let her bleed.” Sylvan stalked across the narrow cell and stared down at the injured renegade. The female would not meet her eyes, but her posture bordered on aggressive. She was brave, the bravery of the young and inexperienced. Sylvan could tear her limbs off in one strike.
“Move away,” Sylvan said to Sophia.
Sophia hesitated.
“Now,” Sylvan growled, and Sophia quickly retreated to the cell’s open doorway. Sylvan’s wolf was in a killing rage, and all she wanted was to bring a swift end to the one who had threatened everything that mattered to her. Through the frenzy, she could almost hear Drake admonishing her to use all the power the Pack brought her, sound advice she had trouble remembering when her Pack and her mate were in danger.
“Gray says she is not to blame,” Sophia said softly from behind her.
“Gray was not there.”
“No, but Gray has talked with her. If you listen, you might learn more than if she is dead.”
Sylvan wanted to ignore her, but her wolf knew better. Every Pack needed an Omega, but not all had them. Sophia was a rarity. She brought balance and reason to those whose first instinct was to fight. Sylvan shuddered and her wolf backed off a step, wary but willing to wait for the kill. Sophia’s strength and calm washed over her like a warm oasis in a raging storm, and she took a minute to let her wolf absorb the soothing energy.
“Tell me what you told my wolf about Bernardo,” Sylvan said.
The prisoner’s head snapped up and she glared in defiance. “Why ask when you won’t believ—”
Sylvan grabbed her by the neck and jerked her into the air. Sophia gasped but no one else made a sound. Sylvan lifted the female until their eyes were at the same level. Through vision gone wolf shades of gray, she saw terror in the eyes looking back at her. Her hand, tipped with claws, dwarfed the young female’s throat. Sylvan’s wolf smelled her mate’s blood, sensed her pain. One squeeze and she would have her retribution.
We are not savages. You are not Bernardo.
Her mate’s voice teased through her awareness and an imagined hand stroked her rigid back. Her wolf’s blind need to dominate, to destroy her enemies, to protect all that was hers, gave way to the reason that kept her from feral madness. She focused on the place inside her where Drake’s love gave her strength, and held back her wolf from the killing strike. She snarled close to the female’s throat. “I have no patience. Tell me what I want to know or die now.”
The female held Sylvan’s stare longer than Sylvan would have believed possible before lowering her gaze and going limp in submission. Sylvan shook her once, hard, and let her fall back onto the cot. A low continuous rumble of warning sounded in her chest as she folded her arms and stared down. “What’s your name?”
“Tamara.”
“Why were you on my land?”
Tamara drew a long shaky breath. “We were trying to track our missing wolves. When we crossed paths with your patrol, we had to fight.”
“Did you follow a scent trail into Timberwolf territory?”
“No, but Bernardo told my uncle, one of his lieutenants, that our missing females were in your territory. That you wanted the pups.”
“Your uncle led the raiding party?”
Tamara’s canines flashed, but she kept silent, only nodding her assent again.
“How many are missing?” Sylvan could easily imagine undisciplined wolves in a frenzy over missing females, especially pregnant ones, and attacking without thought. Bernardo was either too weak an Alpha to control them, or he didn’t want to.
“Two that I know of, but I think there is at least one other.”
“Whose mates?”
Tamara’s brows drew together. “I don’t understand.”
“Whose pups are the missing females carrying? Are they Bernardo’s young?”
“No,” Tamara said quickly. “Bernardo has no mate, and the females he tangles with never breed.”
“Then who bred these pups?”
“Two I know of for sure—one by Rona, a centuri.” Tamara was silent for a long moment before her gaze met Sylvan’s before flashing away. “The other by Franco, a captain in Bernardo’s guard.”
Dominan
t wolves, high in the pack hierarchy. Their young would strengthen the power of whoever led the Pack. “Are these wolves loyal to Bernardo?”
“I don’t know. Bernardo…” Tamara hesitated, rightly reluctant to criticize her Alpha.
From the door, Niki said softly, “Those pups would be a threat to Bernardo’s rule if they or whoever bred them challenged him.”
“Yes.” Sylvan held her rule by strength and loyalty. She would sooner die in a challenge than kill an unborn pup to hold her power. She growled and Tamara flinched. “How many others know of this?”
Tamara shrugged. “I don’t know. All the lieutenants—at least half a dozen—but who they told…? We didn’t wait to start the search. One of the missing females is my uncle’s sister.”
Others would be coming. Bernardo’s lies were meant to incite his Pack into attacking, and a guerrilla war along her borders could go on for years. Her forces would be divided and Bernardo would be safe in the heart of his territory. Unless Sylvan stopped him now. She motioned for Sophia. “Tend to her.”
“Not here,” an unexpected voice said.
Sylvan jerked around.
Drake, standing just outside the cell with Niki, said gently, “If Sophia thinks the prisoner needs to be cared for in the infirmary, we should listen to her.”
Sylvan’s wolf leapt joyously. The air around her sprang to life. “Mate?”
“Yes.” Drake smiled and rested a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. Sophia drew a deep breath, as if replenishing her depleted strength from Drake’s touch. “Let’s leave our medicus to do her job.”
“How are you—” Sylvan stopped, aware of those listening. Drake was healed, completely healed. Her wolf was whole, her power a shining force obliterating the darkness that had shadowed the edges of Sylvan’s soul these last hours. She nodded, her throat tight. “Fine.” She gestured to Max and Gray. “Move the prisoner to the infirmary. Take up post there.”
