Claw of Exile: He Kills to Survive (Exiled Book 1)

by J. K. Jones

  Micah McCorbyn. White Lotus.

  The man is imposing, the scent of a True Alpha rolling off of him in measured, pulsing waves. Ryu feels the urge to bend—to break, to bear his neck for his Alpha. Micah stares at him, almond-shaped eyes nearly pitch black, hair dark as midnight chopped at the side with a mop of curls on his head falling into his dangerous eyes. He wears a white silk shirt and pants, loose and unstrained.

  His skin is a deep rustic brown, features sharp and angular, nose straight and long, eyes deeper than the blackest pits. Although he doesn’t move Ryu can see it, muscles bulge, and tighten—tense.

  Ryu stands, his body slim and lithe, trails his hand down his tightly fitted leather vest. The action alone is obscene, many of the flanking Deltas and Betas sneer at him.

  “You should kneel before your Alpha,” Deryn growls, fists tightly clenched. He’s an attractive Delta, fine features and pale skin, eyes a stunning bright blue. Micah’s father was the leader of the pack before he died, half African American, and his mother Japanese. They love, fear, and respect Micah as their brother. All these wolves would die for him.

  Long ago Ryu was the same.

  “Is that where you want me, Micah?” Ryu smirks. “On my knees.”

  “You filthy—” Deryn's face screws in anger.

  “Don’t stoop to his level,” Trmon interrupts coolly. “It’s been a long time Ryu.” Dark skin, kind brown eyes. His expression is tender, pitying almost and Ryu cannot stand it.

  “Not long enough,” Ryu replies steadily. “Release me.”

  “Why?” Deryn responds. “So, you can cause more trouble? Those Lycans you slaughtered out in the open like that could have very well spread the disease.”

  Too bad he was busy battling fatal injuries to notice. “And?”

  “And,” the vein in his head pulsates, “we had to clean up your mess, again.”

  “Isn’t it your job to shovel shit?” Ryu replies easily. “I thought you loved wiping asses.”

  “Alpha,” Rocky steps forward, expression murderous. “Give the command and I will rip his tongue from his throat.”

  Ryu grins, it’s sharp like the edge of a knife.

  “Yes Alpha,” Ryu says slowly, he leans against the wall, tilting his head back, exposing his neck seductively. “Yes…. tell them what to do with me.” He says the last words softly.

  The room erupts in outrage. For an omega to bear his neck, in a room full of Deltas and Betas was a grievous offense, especially since his True Alpha was right there.

  “Disgraceful!” Deryn shouts.

  Micah holds up his hand and they quiet immediately. The world slows down, Micah's eyes capture his and hold with a vengeful malevolence.

  “Leave us.”

  “Alpha,” Trmon says, he bows deeply. “Ryu is yours by right.” He hesitates. “But do you think it is wise to be alone with him?”

  “I do,” Micah says slowly.

  “Alpha.” Trmon bows again and this time leads the rest of the pack out of the dungeon. Long ago Trmon used to be Micah's best friend, advisor of sorts. It looks like nothing has changed.

  The door closes shut.

  Ryu feels his heart race, this is not what he was expecting. Usually, if he annoyed them long enough, they would leave him alone. At least, that is how things worked in the past. Now, things are different.

  Now he’s stuck alone with Micah.

  Since they were kids, he always thought Micah was too stoic, too impassive. His face barely moved, he didn’t laugh or smile, as if he had gone through some unspeakable evil as a child and chose to never show any emotions.

  A block of stone.

  Ryu nicknamed him ice-queen as the years went on. He’s a stick in the mud, the worst kind of wolf that practices abstinence and cultivates a righteous pathway, the rarest and purest of them all, nearly a monk.

  Ryu regards him, the anger and resentment rising at full force. “Now you have me alone. What will you do with me?”

  Micah doesn’t rise to the challenge, his will ironclad.

  “Must you provoke them?” Micah asks, voice rich and deep in tenor.

  Ryu scoffs. “Typical Micah,” he derides. “You say nothing of their callous words to me, quick to judge and slow to react.”

  “I will admonish Deryn for his words. However, he spoke the truth,” Micah responds. “You should not have acted so rashly.”

  “What of the family? Are they not well?” Ryu demands. “Or have you come to be judge, jury, and executioner? If my crimes are so great, bring forth the council. Let me be held accountable for all the things you blame me for and more.”

  Micah says nothing.

  “No?” Ryu taunts. “Then release me.”

  Things are quiet for a long time. The silence makes Ryu fume. How dare Micah lock him up again? After everything they’ve been through, Ryu has done nothing to deserve this.

  He paces the cell, agitation simmers in his veins.

  “I have come to ask you a question,” Micah says, words controlled and leisurely. “If the Ryu I know is still there, then I hope your answer will be favorable.”

  “What is it?” Ryu snaps impatiently. Like he hasn’t given enough.

  “The circumstance is dire,” Micah responds. “And I need your help.”

  Help him? Not in ten thousand years. Not when the dust from his bones is gone. The audacity. Help him! Ryu is ready to spew his mounting hatred, but Micah cuts him off.

  “Amaya is very ill.”

  His heart stops.

  No, not her—anyone but her. “What? How?” Ryu demands.

  “She caught it. The disease. It’s spreading and we are almost out of time.”

  Chapter 4

  “No,” Ryu says, the thought alone is horrible. “Not her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ryu swallows thickly, blood rushes wildly to his head and he fears he might faint. How could this happen? Amaya is the loveliest woman he’s ever known.

  “She—”

  “Is being taken care of,” Micah reassures. “I have my physicians personally looking after her.”

  Ryu’s stomach coils. This isn’t right. How did the disease spread here so quickly? From his understanding, the Lycans lived near the Outlands, shrouded by darkness. Their numbers were few and many were defeated when the Clans caught wind of their unnatural existence.

  However, this is different. The disease is spreading, from an unknown source. Most people believed that the Lycans carried the disease in their blood and saliva. “Has she come in contact with anyone?”

  “No,” Micah answers. “That is what is most troubling. She hasn’t left the city in months.”

  What the fuck? That means someone either came here and spread the disease or people were naturally falling ill. Dear God—this can’t be happening.

  “Let me see her.” Ryu is suddenly frantic. “I need to see her.”

  “Ryu,” Micah says strongly. “First, you must answer my question.”

  “You haven’t asked one!” Ryu snaps back. “Ask! Whatever you want I will do it.”

  Micah nods slowly. “Two things I request. First is, will you return as my Second?”

  Anything but that! Ryu snarls, baring his teeth in beastly brutality.

  After so many years, how can he even ask that? To be his Alpha’s Second was to accept their mating claim, something he’d rejected so long ago. Since the day he ran away from this Godforsaken clan he swore to never be Micah’s Second.

  “The people have grown hostile in your absence. To deny the claim, on top of everything else would leave you open to ramifications from the clan. My hands would be tied.”

  “Your hands are always tied,” Ryu replies severely. “What good is having an Alpha if you can’t even protect me?”

  “Past grievances aside, many thought my discipline too lenient and would by law have the right to invoke their own. If you accept the claim, then they will have no such right. Do you consent?”

  Ryu seethe
s.

  Of course, he’s right! They would take actions into their own hands and they would have every right to do so. Ryu didn’t have time to deal with those types of people, especially if he tried to defend himself, his punishment would be far worse. Damn him. Damn him straight to hell.

  Micah planned this.

  “Fuck you,” Ryu breathes harshly. “I accept. What else?”

  Micah watches him closely. “Second is, will you consent not to cause trouble? If someone provokes you, come to me first.”

  Ryu grinds his teeth together, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Come crawling and sniveling to his Alpha? Of course, Micah would love that. Especially knowing full well Ryu could tear the heads off anyone who even looked at him sideways.

  “Fine.”

  Micah’s eyes narrowed. “Your word.”

  “You have it!” Ryu flung the words back at him, pacing his gilded cage. “Take me to her.”

  Micah nods quickly, then throws a look over his shoulder. The minute he does the doors open, Trmon and Deryn walk back in. Ryu realizes that Micah must have closed his mental link to speak to him privately.

  “Release him.”

  Trmon and Deryn hesitate, looking at Micah questionably. “Alpha you—”

  “Ryu is my Second and will be treated as such.” Micah levels them with a hard look, leaving no room for arguments.

  Trmon moves quickly, taking the lock off the door and opening it wide for Ryu. He grabs his jacket and Katana, moving past the three of them quickly.

  Ryu doesn’t think about what he agreed to or the deeper meaning behind it. Amaya was the closest thing he had to a mother—to family and seeing her was paramount.

  Micah leads, weaving through the various dungeon halls and opening the door to the main building. They make their way through the grounds, the place even more grandiose than Ryu remembers.

  They chance upon the communal gardens.

  Silvercrest pack were known for their vivacious tenacity, for fairness and inclusion, a righteous clan that upheld humility and grace above all things.

  Ryu recalls spending most of his time here.

  The garden itself is filled with stone lanterns, water basins, arbors, and bridges, spanning evergreens and a winding path leads past the stone pagoda. To the left, there is a teahouse and then a pavilion made of bamboo and a zigzag bridge, they used to play on as children fighting off evil spirits.

  It pierces his chest, and he turns away from the crippling memory.

  The Silvercrest Howlers are one of the richest clans, their territory spanning far and wide, their words being: Steadfast and loyal.

  Ha! Ryu wants to laugh. What a joke.

  If he could, he would take his dagger and drive it into Micah’s chest for betraying him. For making him fall in love and then bludgeoning his heart to death.

  People stand around gazing at him, their whispers loud and gnawing in his ears.

  “I heard he is a vicious brute!” A woman hurriedly whispers to her friend. “That he killed those Lycans, spreading their filth on his clothes in an upset!”

  “I heard he is ravenous! He needs to be satisfied daily! An impure Omega needs to be kept under lock and key!”

  “That’s nothing,” a male interrupts. “I heard that they eloped and ran away together!”

  “Impossible!” another maiden cries. “How could our Alpha leave his clan? His father would be rolling around in his grave. The son of a servant, from the Filthy Claw clan, adopted and treated like a king! Who would want that?”

  Ryu glares at them all fiercely.

  Micah waves his hand, and the people disperse, going back to their daily duties. Ryu clenches his teeth, remembering why he never wanted to come back here.

  All of them are snakes. The worst kind of individuals ready and willing to betray each other over scraps. He hates them all.

  Micah leads them to a large house, one that is nestled within the grounds of the capital. Most of the fields near the capital are vast, just because wolves needed a lot of room to shift and run. People are milling about, all of them bow to the Alpha as he steps forward.

  Trmon grips Micah’s shoulder, leaning to whisper in his ear. “I see. Bring him out.”

  He nods swiftly, his eyes cutting accusingly to Ryu before he enters the house. The doors fling open, a man dressed in a business suit struts out.

  “Alpha,” He bows deeply. “I know your request; however, I cannot have this disgrace put upon my mother.”

  The man bowing suddenly straights up and the air thins between them.

  Alhazred.

  The vengeful bastard in the flesh. For many years he’s long since detested Ryu. Mostly because he was adopted by their mother, a servant in the household that was treated and doted upon like a son.

  Alhazred's attractive face hasn’t changed, he is still short and stout, barely reaching above Micah’s shoulder. His family is originally from the Midnight Nightstalker’s clan, who migrated over to the Silvercrest Howlers after Amaya’s daughter, Listeria married Rocky, one of the Alphas in the Silvercrest Regiment.

  “Speak brother and you will be heard,” Micah responds.

  “Alpha,” Alhazred says. “This man isn’t welcomed in my house. I will not allow his wickedness to taint my mother’s recovery.”

  “I understand,” Micah replies.

  Ryu's stomach drops. How could they come so far only to turn away? He cannot leave without seeing Amaya! He’s about to jump forward when Micah speaks again.

  “I have considered this,” Micah replies. “Am I not just towards you?”

  “Of course, Alpha,” Alhazred answers quickly.

  “Am I of sound mind and heart?”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  “Do you believe I would intentionally cause Amaya harm? That I would recklessly put her and those of the clan in danger?”

  “No—I wouldn’t dare—”

  “To deny Ryu is to deny me as well. He is my Second.” Micah conveys powerfully, the words carry a heavy threat. “Are you, therefore blocking my entrance into your house?”

  “I—I—”

  “Stand aside,” Trmon rebukes. “Do as your Alpha bids.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Alhazred scurries away quickly, face twisting in fury.

  They walk past him, climbing the steps towards the house. Ryu’s heart beats faster and faster, stomach climbing into his ribcage. How long has it been since he’s seen her? Years at least. Not since he ran away vowing never to return. Things have changed drastically, the house itself aging like fine wine.

  Ryu swallows, eyes searching around for Amaya.

  When he was young, he was taken from his clan, oftentimes during the war, they were indentured into servitude to the clans that won. The first time he arrived he had only the clothes on his back, Amaya had immediately taken a liking to him, often treating him as family instead of a lowly servant.

  He sees her then, laying on a small bed, looking worn and withered by age. Her once long black hair turned grey, her eyes beautiful and light now were heavily laden.

  Ryu breaks through the flanks, knowing that he was showing massive discourtesy and disrespect to his Alpha, but he didn’t care. He needs to get close.

  Micah grabs him, his hand clamps around his bicep tightly. “Calm down.”

  “How? She—”

  “Is under my care,” Micah replies, his voice clear and resounding, assuring Ryu that she is being provided for. Yet, the blood rushes to his ears. Amaya looks so small and frail, to turn into one of those Lycans, twists something horribly inside of him. He cannot allow it. “Do not allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. Focus.”

  Focus. He breathes deeply, the command washes over him.

  The doctors come over, bowing deeply. “Alpha, the disease has spread beyond control. We all should leave the room and quarantine as soon as possible. It’s best that way.” They say.

  Ryu feels hysteria build. He has not seen her in years, at least allow him some time alone bef
ore they take her away. His emotions build and he feels the bitterness of the situation threaten to overtake him.

  “Micah,” he says, aching and desperate. He will not beg. Not now, not ever.

  He nods. “A moment. Not a second longer.”

  Ryu breaks free, rushing towards Amaya, grasping her hand tightly. It’s so tiny and frail, the lines wrinkle deep within her skin. “Ryu,” She smiles, sweat on her brow. “Freesia,” She laughs. “Lovely scent for a lovely boy.”

  “Amaya,” Ryu responds breathlessly. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up?”

  “Never boy,” She laughs too, but it turns into a horrible hacking sound. “Listen to me, don’t be scared. Micah will take good care of you. Don’t run away.”

  “Amaya,” Ryu feels his throat clogged with emotion. “Please don’t leave me.” He stutters out, not caring if anyone hears him cry. She was the only one who treated him like he was worth something.

  “Ryu,” She shakes her head slowly. “I am always with you.”

  “It’s time,” One of the doctors says, quietly. Ryu kisses her hand gently, tears stinging his eyes as he walks away from her.

  Ryu makes it outside, stomach curling and eyes threatening to spill. Out of everyone in their whole Godforsaken clan, she was the only one who cared. The only one who treated him like a person. Not a lowly Omega who rose above his status.

  He takes a stuttering breath, tears trailing down his cheek. Fuck—out of all of them she should live. He always thought she would. After a hundred years Amaya would still be alive, waving her ladle and scolding him fondly.

  “I’m sorry,” Micah says, coming to stand next to him. “I know what she meant to you.”

  Ryu swats at his eyes ferociously. His heart breaking in two.

  “She cannot die. I will not allow it.” Ryu swears. “We will find a cure. We have to.”

  Micah regards him softly. “Come, as my Second you must stay with me.”

  Ryu wants to fight against this, with calculating, preternatural vehemence; however, he finds all the heat earlier has left him. Too much has happened in the past twenty-four hours.