by L. V. Lane
There was wistfulness when she spoke of the other man.
It is the way of the clans that sharing is as common as a paring. I wonder if that might have been Jessa’s fate were the other clan in better alliance with Ralston. I wonder what the clan’s name is, but I only know a few, and it would likely not mean much to me even if I were to ask.
And Jessa cares for Brandon. Every time Brandon is near, she blushes prettily. Jessa has been smitten with the handsome shifter Beta for a good while, from what I have learned. He is a little older than her and experienced in life. Her father has been strict about her not being alone with the Beta male until she is of age. Given all the rutting that happens in Ralston—and I have seen Brandon sneak off with a lass or two—I can see that it has been hard for Jessa as she grows into becoming a woman.
I yawn, feeling tiredness battle against the unease fluttering inside my tummy. Poor Jessa. Finally, when her father accepts Brandon, this business with the Lyon clan has begun.
“Do you know where the house for you will be built?” I ask.
“On the eastern side, next to my parents’ home,” she says. “Mama says she will be able to help me when I get with a child. But I also think she is anticipating me helping with all my brothers and sisters.”
There is a smile in her voice. She likes to grumble about her younger siblings, but she also loves them dearly.
I wish I had a mother still who could help me when I come to have a babe of my own. My brothers and sisters are either grown up or yet live with my uncle and aunty. My oldest brother is a soldier in the army and battles the Blighten far away on the other side of the great sea. I miss how it was when my siblings were little. I think that was the happiest time of my life before my mother passed, and there were five of them all running around up to mischief.
I miss my father, the gruff old goat that he is; how I love him dearly. I worry for him alone in that old cottage full of memories of happier times. He is a good father, both before and after my mother passed. There was a time when we were all deep into our grieving where he was not himself. But when there are little ones who need love and attention, you must pick yourself up.
“They are very late,” I say softly, for we have fallen quiet.
“Aye,” Jessa says.
The unsaid words of worry float between us as I drift into sleep.
A hand closing over my mouth stifles my scream. Troubled dreams fade as my mind rushes to alert. I fight. I may be a Beta, but I still know my mates’ scent and feel. The cruel hands that grasp me are assuredly neither Jack nor Fen. Around me are the sounds of a scuffle, hissed orders, and low curses. I am still on the bed and see a jumble of moving shapes and shadows.
A strip of cloth is forced between my teeth.
I fight harder. But there are too many hands. My mouth is gagged, and my wrists bound before me.
Dragged from the bed, I am set to my feet. Here I sway, disorientated, chest heaving, and feeling sick.
The shapes morph into people I do not recognize. Two are Alphas, two more are Betas.
Jessa, I see, is similarly gagged and bound. Our eyes meet, and I see my horror is reflected in the sweet young Beta. Is this the Lyon clan? Have our warriors failed? I swallow thickly as fear for my mates overwrites fear for myself.
The tall, graceful woman who steps before me catches a shaft of light.
Nola.
My pounding heart rate elevates further. Nola’s lips lift in a cruel smirk before she slaps me across the face.
The blow snaps my head to the side, and pain explodes across my cheek. The sounds of more scuffling and muttered curses follow.
“Leave off, bitch,” a male voice says. “You can have your fun with her once we’re out of Ralston.”
Arm fisted by an Alpha, I’m shoved roughly toward the window.
Distantly, I realize that Ralston has not fallen since they are thrusting us out through the window and not marching us down the front steps.
Wrists bound, and at Nola’s insistence, Jessa and I are driven through the forest with a switch. The young Beta is full of callous rage. I take small comfort that it’s mostly I who must suffer Nola’s spite. Every time Nola lands a blow upon Jessa, I swear I hear the Goddess weep. I am a small Beta, but Jessa is even smaller and barely a woman.
Once clear of the village where we might raise the alarm, we are allowed to remove the gags. Without shoes, my feet are soon a source of fiery pain every bit as vicious as the welts left by the switch. It gets worse when I stumble on a rock, and a cut is opened. I know not where they take us. But the switch keeps us moving.
Soon, every step is like a knife stabbing in the sole of my foot. But Nola will suffer no delay.
We stop beside a river where more men and horses wait.
I sit. I cannot bear the pain in my right foot a moment longer. Jessa comes to my side, a little dirt mixed with the tears on her pretty face.
“Do you know these people?” I whisper.
She nods. “I recognize a warrior from the Lyon clan. Why Nola is with them, I do not know. I heard a man mention that you are to be bartered. The Lyon king’s son has been taken, and they need you so that they might get him back.”
“So you are here by association,” I say. Pain has left me feeling queasy. But I am more wretched knowing that Jessa’s presence in my home has led to her being caught up in this.
“Our warriors will come for us,” she says, voice carrying quiet authority. “I wonder what has transpired for them to have captured Danon Lyon? It will not end well for them that they dared to take you as leverage.” Her eyes glitter in the moonlight as she watches the group argue. “They will be well punished.”
I can only pray that it is so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jack
I ARRIVE AT Halket as night is falling. Accompanying me is nearly fifty men: a combination of warriors from Ralston and two other clans. Tonight, I will take the war to the Lyons.
Only war has already arrived, and the bitter chaos calls.
Karry, the Halket king, is dead, and the clan is in a state of great sorrow and rage. Eric is a young Alpha, but he must step up to the role for the sake of his people.
I find minor comfort in discovering that Fen has done me proud in his dealing with Eric.
The pyre to the late king burns bright in the night sky, and we gather around as the ashes rise to join the Goddess.
“Tomorrow,” Eric says. “We will take the war to them. There can be no more diplomacy. The only words will be those delivered by the sharped steel of my sword.”
I nod, but my gut is churning. I hate that I have left our mate unattended. “Tonight would be better,” I say. I am bordering on disrespect with this comment while the late king is not yet fully gifted to the Goddess.
Eric turns to face me, and I see the indecision cross his face. Our two clans are closest together. The territory split where the river separates us and leads to the loch. The Lyon clan is northeast, half a day’s ride away. “They came for your father,” I say. “What else have they come for?”
I am thinking about Ralston, Hazel, and about our absence. Have we left them vulnerable? Warriors were left to guard, but now I suffer a sickness that tells me I should return home.
“Fuck! We have been away all day,” Fen says. “We should question Danon.”
“He is our prisoner,” Eric says.
“We have left our fucking village vulnerable all day,” Fen repeats, voice heating. “They killed your father. What’s to say they have not attacked our home too?”
I see Eric’s nostrils flare, and my temper rises. It’s not only my temper, and I put a hand on Fen’s shoulder, lest he does something foolish.
“We will question him again,” Eric says. “The Goddess will understand. My father will understand.” Turning, he calls two of his warriors.
But before we can seek to question Danon, horses thunder into the village.
They are Ralston warriors whom we left in the
village. As the horses stop before me, a warrior calls the words I dread the most, “Hazel and Jessa have been taken!”
My lips tighten, and I clench my shaking fingers into fists.
My gaze shifts first to Fen before settling on Brandon, who is ever at Fen’s side.
They have dared to take our women. Our retaliation will be swift and deadly for everyone involved.
Hazel
Mounted upon horses before Lyon warriors, we ride through the night. As dawn is creeping over the horizon, we arrive at their community. Nestled in the foothills of a mountain, it might have been a beautiful place in other circumstances. Now, it is a frenzy as women and wailing children flee. Villagers rush and run in every direction. Warriors below orders.
Chaos and bubbling dread hovers over the air.
As we pull up before a grand building, a great bear of an Alpha emerges. An argument begins between those who took me and this new Alpha.
“You are fucking stupid,” I hear the bear-like Alpha roar at one of the Alphas who snatched us. “They will slit Danon’s fucking throat that you took a bound mate from Jack and Fen. Snatch a couple of lower-ranking women, was my father’s order. Not that I fucking agree with snatching a fucking lass. Nola is bitter that she was sent away as a slave. The Beta is dishonored. She has led you all for fools.”
I am all but tossed from the horse by the Beta who held me, and my injured foot brings a cry to my lips.
Jessa hurries to support me as the arguing Alphas draw a crowd.
“It is Danon’s younger brother, Gage,” she says softly.
Her voice, barely above a whisper, draws the giant male’s gaze. His nostrils flare, and his fists clench as his gaze roams the length of the tiny Beta standing at my side. The slightest gasp from Jessa and the tall, powerful Alpha stares at us as we cling together, shaking. “What the fuck is the child doing here?”
“She was with their mate,” Nola spits back. “And nothing short of their mate will have a chance to see your brother returned after what he has done.”
So fast does Gage move that it is little more than a blur. Fist closing over the Beta’s throat, he lifts Nola clear off her feet. Her legs kick and thrash. Her fingers claw at the hands crushing her throat.
“I am not a child anymore,” Jessa says.
Nola is dropped. Falling to the ground at the giant’s feet, she gasps, fingers clutching her throat.
“Are you bonded?” Gage demands, closing in on us.
“No,” Jessa says, body trembling beside mine even as she straightens her spine, drawing the beast’s gaze to places it should not be. “Not yet. But I soon will be.”
The Alpha stalks closer toward us. Instinctively, I seek to back away, hissing as my injured foot contacts the floor. His dark gaze shifts my way. Jessa holds me tighter and tries to put her body before mine like it might save us from this brooding monster’s wrath.
Gage stills, eyes shifting to Jessa. There is something between these two that I do not understand, yet I feel it all the same—a thick thread wrapping them up and drawing them tighter together.
“Kill the slave,” Gage says, never taking his eyes from Jessa. “Snap her useless neck, slit her throat. I do not care.”
The sounds of stammered pleading come from behind the great Alpha. I want to beg for mercy for Nola, but my throat is dry, and no words come out. Nola’s begging turns to screams and the screams to silence.
And still, Gage stares at Jessa.
“Well, this is a fuck up of unprecedented proportions. Between my father and my brother, it will be a wonder we have any clan left come the morrow.” There is bitterness in his voice. And rage, there is also rage.
Finally, he drags his eyes from Jessa and directs his gaze at me. “Are you injured?”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak—I don’t think I can speak. Gage has just ordered Nola’s death. He has said our presence here is a disaster. Is he planning to kill us too?
“He won’t hurt us,” Jessa says, and despite the tension enfolding our patch of earth, I believe she speaks the truth.
Then the bear is upon us, and we are both picked up like we are naught but a couple of kittens. “Time to do what I should have done long since,” he growls as he stalks past the larger home and out the back, bellowing orders to men.
“Where are you taking us?” Jessa demands. We both fight, although I cannot see it is doing either of us any good.
“Quieten down, lass. I am only taking you out of the way. There will be war here soon, and I would not have either of you hurt when lesser men get confused in their bloodlust.”
Taken into a small outbuilding, we are placed in the corner. Here, Gage draws a dagger. Grasping Jessa’s wrists, he cuts the binding before giving the blade to her.
A great roar goes up beyond the small wooden shack that raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Bar the door,” Gage says, and pivoting, stalks out.
As he leaves, Jessa scrambles to her feet and slips the heavy bar into place. Hurrying back to me, she saws through the binding at my wrists.
“You seem to know him well,” I say. “He did not seem as monstrous as I expected men of his clan to be.”
She sits beside me, the knife held out in her hand, ready but trembling.
Outside the tiny shack, I hear the evidence of war in the shouts, cries, and screams.
“When I said I kissed a lad who was not Brandon,” she says, the wistfulness back in her voice. “Gage was that lad.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jack
MY MIND FLUCTUATES between fear, rage, and savage self-reproach.
I have lost a mate once through illness. The prospect of losing another second chance through negligence is like a sickness festering in my soul. Where they have taken Hazel, I cannot know. Danon gives no answers in our limited time questioning him. There is little inclination toward mercy for the male who killed the Halket king. I believe he knows naught of his clan’s plans to snatch our mate.
And Jessa, who we learned, had decided to keep Hazel company with us absent. Likely she was taken simply because she was there.
As we mount to leave, a Halket clan member informs Eric that Nola, the woman gifted to them as a slave, is missing. I want to discount it, to believe she has simply taken the opportunity to flee while the chaos ensues. But Nola is ever a twisted lass. I dedicated too much time to offering her respect she did not warrant. All in the hopes she would mature and step up to her role as a lead woman within the clan. Lesa warned me long ago to watch Nola.
Lesa, who never had a bit of suspicion or spite in her for anyone, cautioned me many times.
That I did not heed my late mate’s warning is another canker, but this one in my heart.
If Nola is behind any of this, I will take pleasure in killing her myself.
The swirling ball of churning in my gut manifests into a battle rage as we approach the village of Lyon. The sky is lightened by the onset of dawn as we near. Prepared for our arrival, we meet patrols.
It does them no good, and we slay all we meet. If a few manage to escape to raise a warning, it matters not.
Let them prepare. Let them tremble in fear. I will destroy them all.
As we thunder into the village square, I leap from my horse. My ax cleaves the chest open on the first man who dares to challenge me. With Fen, Brandon, Glen, and other clans’ support, we wreak destruction upon the Lyons.
Slashing, parrying, and battering, I use all my focus.
But as warriors fall under my savagery, I realize something is wrong. They fight with each other as much as they fight with us. What madness has consumed this clan?
“We need to fucking question them!” Fen roars at me as I kill another man.
I pause, blinking, chest sawing with harsh breath. I feel the trickle of my many enemies’ blood rolling down my face.
“We need to find out where the fuck Hazel and Jessa are!” Fen says.
Fen, who is the one usu
ally lost to the battle frenzy, is the one cautioning me in reason. The red haze seeps away, and I come back to myself.
Hazel. Jessa. We need to know where they are.
Around me lay broken bodies. The fighting has reduced to pockets. They are already well punished.
I swipe a hand down my face, sick to my gut because my mate is still lost.
“Fuck!” Brandon says. The lad is prolific with his cursing . . . and naked given he has shifted back to human form.
Then I see what has arrested his attention.
The Lyon King, Rendal, and his second son, Gage, fight.
A vicious, bloody fight.
A fight that I sense only one will survive.
Our continuing conflict with this clan balances on the outcome.
All other fighting has stopped. We are caught watching to see which way the final blade shall fall.
Blood splatters, blades ring, and fists fly amid snarls and growls of rage.
But the Goddess is watching this village deep in the eastern Hinterlands. With a roar so visceral it springs hairs on the back of my neck, Gage slays his father.
“Fuck!” Brandon snarls and there is a wealth of feeling behind that word. He and Gage have a history that I do not have time to fucking deal with now.
“Search the village!” I order. “Find our mates.”
Hazel
Jessa and I cling together within the darkened shack as the sounds of battling grow louder and more frenzied.
“I do not think this is so safe?” I say to Jessa, who still holds Gage’s blade out before her. There is only us in here, but I think it gives her comfort. I have found a sturdy plank of wood. Similarly, I take comfort in the weight of my weapon and will not hesitate to beat anyone who enters and tries to take us. We have been taken once. I will not allow us to be taken again.
The door rattles suddenly. We both cling tighter, respective weapons shaking in our hands.
A cracking crash follows as an ax slams into the door. A second blow disintegrates the wood, and the shattered door swings open.
