Thrown To The Wolf (Pack Heat Book 3)

by Sam Hall

  The guys started passing the mead, Aaron’s men particularly pleased at this.

  “Don’t go too hard,” Aaron warned. “We roll out at first light, with or without you.”

  They all said the right things, but the way the bottle was being distributed, I seriously doubted it. An opportunity to sleep somewhere safe from wildlife was not one to turn your nose up at. I reclined back as the young dancers pulled back from the fire and sat down in a loose ring, someone’s arms going around me. Brandon looked down at me with a smile, tugging me closer until I leaned against his chest. I felt a trill of something—pleasure, satisfaction, or some kind of combination of them both. There was a thread accompanying it, of this being something he’d foreseen or hoped for, but I wasn’t worried about Brandon’s seer abilities anymore, something that had him relaxing under me. I felt around in my jacket pocket for Brandon’s book. I still hadn’t managed to find the time to sit down and read, but was reassured by the weight.

  The sound of music had my head jerking around, and I saw that some of the men had evidently dug out their instruments. They played a strange skirling melody, but the slow sinuous beat was familiar enough. One of the young women got to her feet and began to dance, her hips and arms moving with a kind of taunting sassiness that soon got the attention of the rest of the group, including some of Aaron’s men.

  “Moonie, can we—”

  “No. This is obviously some kind of religious festival, and if you get involved, you might find yourself married or something. Think of all the attention you’ll get from the single women when you return home the conquering hero?” Aaron replied.

  But the young men of the village weren’t so constrained, several attempting to get to their feet to answer the challenge she threw down, but the first up wove the rest of them away. He stood for a second, just appreciating the girl’s movements, then started to perform a few of his own.

  It was like some kind of dance battle, I realised. The girl backed away from the boy, her steps intricate and mesmerising but moving faster and faster as the musicians struggled to keep up. The boy responded in turn, his steps growing more expansive as he pursued her. Lonan and Branwen, I thought as they spiralled around the fire, the black wolf chasing the white. Until this black wolf stumbled.

  The girl’s smirk was triumphant, her dance slowing to the previous more sinuous one, the music changing pace to match her. But not for long, the young men who had previously attempted to challenge her stood up, and the cycle began again.

  It was just kids dancing before a fire as alcohol was shared, something that happened all around the world. I’d done it a few times myself back in the day, but there was something compelling about it. Night had well and truly fallen by now, and since there were only dim lanterns around as an alternate light source, the fire caught your eyes and wouldn’t let go. I felt the guys straighten beside me, leaning forward as the dance began to spiral faster again with several men now trying their luck. Their coordinated approach resulted in plates being dropped on the ground before us, as eyes followed every way the men echoed and countered the girl’s moves.

  I heard the hum in my ears as the men closed in on the girl, her steps now beginning to fumble. The sound became a croon, seductive and enticing as she fought to keep her footing, forced to move faster to keep ahead of the guys. White hair flared out like white fur flashing, green eyes bright as lasers as she proclaimed her defiance. Men got to their feet at this, including a few of Aaron’s men, and it took a few sharp comments from a harried looking Aaron to get them to sit down. And then, she stumbled.

  The girl’s face was stricken for a moment as her arms waved in a futile attempt to stay upright, saved only by two of the men as they swooped in, wrapping their arms around her before her head hit the stones. She paused for a moment, as if unable to believe she’d been caught, before a smile spread across her face, and then both men crowded in to bestow kisses on her soft lips.

  “Ayash! Your daughter will have strong warriors from this pairing,” Ralnor exclaimed, and there was a chorus of back slapping and cheers amongst the Uldariel men, as if it was them that had been dancing up a storm. Then the next girl stood up.

  The bottle had been circulated way too many times, all of us rocking a nice buzz, which along with the full stomach and warm presence of my mates was a perfect way to end the day. The young people still danced, but the crowd participation had grown considerably more boisterous as the alcohol flowed. People shouted encouragement, for the girl or the boys or sometimes both, seemingly invested in the fight between the two rather than the inevitable capture. Then came her.

  She walked into the fire circle from the darkness between several buildings, and it immediately became clear why. No mere maid with pretty dance steps, this woman wore a uniform similar to the men—well-fitting black leather, though with strategic panels fitted to give the garment some stretch. And she’d need it. The remaining men stood, because on her head she wore the white skull of a wolf, its pelt forming a headdress that spilled down her shoulders. She called to the crowd in a long, yodelling howl that should have sounded ridiculous. Humans trying to match those eerie notes usually just sounded like someone who’d stubbed their toes on every piece of furniture in the house, but not her. My vision sharpened as I inspected her more closely. She had a decisive tilt to her head as she regarded the crowd with an imperious gaze I’d not seen in other Uldariel women, but other than that, she didn’t look any different to anyone else, with the exception of her clothes.

  Yet, when she moved, she did so not so much with the dance steps of the others, but more with the quick-footed movement of a wolf as it padded through the forest. My vision blurred. As I blinked, I saw for a moment a white wolf superimposed over the woman, which disappeared as soon as my eyes cleared.

  The hum rose as I felt the pressure on my bladder. I put the sound to one side, putting it down to yet more metaphysical bullshit as I faced a problem I hadn’t yet thought about—where the toilets were.

  “Guys, do you know where…”

  My voice trailed away as I saw their entire focus was on the fire now. Every single muscle quivered as they held themselves rigid. I might have a better chance of getting their attention if I stripped down and started running around naked, but I wasn’t completely sure of that. I shook my head and got to my feet, feeling it swim as I did so.

  “You OK?” Slade asked as I staggered slightly, but he didn’t wait for an answer as his eyes snapped back to the woman.

  Perhaps because now she did perform a dance, but it was no neat, precise thing like the other girls. It was more like when you see those avant-garde dancers performing some inscrutable combination of moves that you had no hope of understanding unless you were some kind of dance aficionado, but they were performed with such total passion, you half wished you were. The hum grew louder as she seemed to spell out clearly to the audience her disdain, her refusal to bow before the wall of menfolk before her.

  “Ralnor,” I said after I’d made my way up to the Uldariel leader. I caught his attention for a split second, but it soon returned to the fire. “Ralnor!”

  He turned deliberately, regarded me with those too pale eyes, and then pointed to the dark space between several buildings. Only now I realised the humming song was coming from the albino men.

  I didn’t have time to consider that in any depth, since my bladder, now that it had my attention, was not willing to give it up. I stumbled off in the direction he had pointed, trying to ignore the slight smile on his face as I did so. Whatever mead was, it was bloody strong. The world seemed to tilt and shift under each footfall.

  I should’ve been worried, walking down the dark alleyway between buildings, but the cool night air and the darkness was kind of soothing after the hot fire and the flush of alcohol. My hands clung to the rough whitewashed walls of the buildings as I walked, then I finally found a small building wreathed in lanterns that looked like an outhouse. I opened the door a crack and saw it was, and s
ighed with relief. I tried very hard not to think about third world plumbing and spiders and god knows what as I did what I needed to, then I head back outside, feeling glad I was still in one piece. Now, where was I going?

  “What are you doing, wandering around, little queen?”

  My eyes searched the darkness until Sylvan appeared, and the few beams of moonlight that made it down here appeared wholly centred on him, bleaching his skin a stark white, his hair as black as night. My vision jumped a bit as I watched him warily, the human clothes we’d leant him flickering, replaced in momentary glitches with a wolf skull as a helmet, a black wolf pelt, and a familiar-looking spear with a crystalline point.

  “Wha…?” The word felt weird in my mouth, as if the muscles struggled to get the sounds out.

  “And where are your courtiers? So quick to abandon their mate for a nice show. She’s their priestess, the woman with the white fur. Hides up in the hills for most of the year, except for now. The Longest Night…” His eyes flicked around him, as if to confirm his label of the event. “I forgot how time moves differently between the realms. You’ll need to run, Julie.”

  “What?”

  He approached, slow and measured in his gait, yet he was on me way too fast.

  “This is why the Volken kept me for so long. Seers come and go. If you kill them, they’re quick enough to respawn, hopefully in a more biddable form. Can’t kill me though,” he said, pulling his hair up into a man bun, and then he turned around. Before I could snicker something about hipsters, I saw it—small but perfectly formed, a black wolf stood out on his skin, staring at me with shining red eyes.

  “Cool tattoo,” I said with a shrug. “Not enough to make me want to engage in cardio drunk though.”

  He hissed in frustration.

  “You blunder through this whole thing, preoccupied with your relationships and your groin, with no clue what you’re dealing with. That woman they keep in isolation, they imagine her to be some kind of link between the Great Wolves and the Uldariel, but she’s not.” My view of Sylvan wavered, replaced with the increasingly desperate moves of the woman. Her dance steps included large sweeping kicks, to keep the surging men back, to maintain however briefly the space around her. “She’s just a woman who gets to enjoy being left alone on her hill, only to have to come down each Longest Night and pay the price.”

  There were no young people left, no serving girls or wives or girlfriends. Everyone who had one had slipped away to their huts, presumably to lock their doors tight against what was coming. Her face was twisted in a sneer, but the previously defiant set of her shoulders was beginning to sag. The men edged in closer. I searched for mine in the group, seeing some of Aaron’s men, but my view was limited. My heart pounded, my head aching now as the fear shot through me. Just what was the final dish of this ‘feast’?

  “She’s no more a conduit for the Great Wolves than that outhouse, but me and you…” Sylvan fought the idea, I could see it in the twist of his neck, the wary way he watched me. “We are.”

  I laughed at that, the sound cutting through the still night. Linked to a god-wolf? I might have some weird visions when getting laid, but my life was otherwise fairly prosaic, when alien wildlife wasn’t chasing me around.

  “All this time, right under my nose. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, Julie. You were just a step towards her. I had no reason to hurt you or your pack, I just needed you to get to her, but now…”

  He took a step towards me, then another.

  “And now?” I said, no idea what I was asking.

  The woman had stopped all semblance of dancing now, as the fur headdress fell to the ground, no longer important. Her fists were raised, and she lashed out increasingly erratically, the sneer dropping in favour of open-mouthed fear. All religious pretence was kicked to the curb. This was the beginnings of a gang rape.

  “For tonight, you’re Branwen, not that woman, and it’s my job to hunt you down.”

  “But that woman…”

  “Nothing can be done for her now. This is her role here. You’d have to face down every single male here to stop this.”

  Good fucking idea, I thought.

  The shift into Tirian form came without thinking. My humanoid form couldn’t do much against that many warriors, but this… I snarled, venom dripping from my teeth at the seer, but that wasn’t what froze him to the spot. I glanced over my shoulder, where his eyes burned, and saw that my fur had changed. I was pure white, just like Finn. Well, cool coat change and all, but it wasn’t going to save that woman.

  Sylvan’s face became a mask of anger as I took off, his lips peeling back from the fangs that knew me all too intimately. I streaked down the alleyway, blinking when I arrived in the better-lit square. Hands were on armour and belt buckles, ready to unleash their dicks on the poor woman. I growled as I strode over to the fire, and men jerked out to the way, then clambered to get as far away as possible when they saw me. This only grew more marked when I leapt over the fire to where the woman shrank against one of the houses. She was as much cringing away from me as the men, but that was OK. My body was a buffer the lot of them weren’t likely to cross. Then came the howl.

  Ralnor fought his way to the front of the group, his white hair mussed, his eyes burning with an unnatural light.

  “Brothers, Lonan hunts Branwen tonight! Mount up, for we join the hunt!”

  Well, fuck.

  My eyes scanned the crowd to look for my men, but the bloody albino elf fucks were too numerous to see past. I tentatively tried to pull on what I felt was the sense of them in my head, but didn’t get a reaction. Another howl came, closer now. Fucking hell. Chase me, Sylvan had said. I snarled at the woman, herding her away with lunges, until she stumbled off into the night as I followed after her.

  I headed straight for the central gate, not wanting to chance jumping over the palisades ringing the village. I strode past the woman, then veered towards her, thinking maybe I might be able to put her on my back like my Tirian had me in my change induced visions, but she just screamed and ran away. The howl came again, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw the glowing red eyes of Sylvan’s wolf form, his fur blending with the night. Chase me and then what? Ralnor’s voice rang in my ears. Is this the year when Lonan brings his mate to ground, swallowing the light for ever? If the fucking seer thought I was Branwen for some stupid reason, I needed to run or fight.

  For a moment, a violent flashback to the way his fangs had felt when he dug them into my shoulder shot through me, my fangs clamping tight on the whines that froze in my throat. Venom pooled in my mouth at the thought of getting my own back on him, of biting down on that pale flesh and marking him as he marked me. But I had no idea how to fight, in this form or my human one.

  Run, my Tirian insisted. Run fast. So I did.

  I would like to describe the chase, but it was all a mess to me. I ran out of the village and onto the dark plains beyond. I was no longer really in the driver’s seat, merely watching as my Tirian instincts took over. She knew what she was doing, perhaps because there was a somewhat preordained feel about all of this. My heart may have pounded, my eyes darting for signs of pursuit, yet it all felt oddly familiar. We swerved out to the left, the great empty flatlands opening up before us, and the moon hanging in the sky, as if to tell us which way to go. Our eyes lifted to it as we ran, then another howl rang out.

  There were sounds of hoofbeats and calls from the man things, but they weren’t what I paid attention to. It was him. I could hear his paws eat up the distance between us, as if they were my own, getting closer and closer. My body lengthened, paws snatching at the ground now, thrusting our body faster and faster. For a moment, there was that feeling of the machinery of my body working in perfect tandem with my mind—I told it to run and it did, so very fast.

  But there was a spanner designed to be thrown into the works, a deliberate one, now I thought about it. We guests were given our own bottle of mead to share, something I’d put down t
o politeness, but the first time the ground felt like it shifted under me, I knew. I stumbled and managed to rally, but it cost me precious seconds. They knew it too, the Uldariel, their whoops too loud, too practised for this to be an accident. Where were my mates? The fact that they weren’t here was telling enough. My head spun now from the effects of the alcohol, the previous sharpness I’d gained from fear and anger bleeding out as my body churned through its stores of adrenalin. I veered right sharply, then swerved left as I tried to correct. Sylvan’s howl grew louder, and the men’s shouts became hard to comprehend as my paws seemed to forget how to move together.

  Something’s wrong, my Tirian said, as if from very far away. I just nodded in response, my legs now moving haphazardly. The moon seems to waver in the sky, but it's what I stared at as I collapsed to the ground. I studied the strange craters and pock marks as they approached.

  “I got the black one with a tranquilizing arrow,” a voice said.

  “Good, good. Go back to the village and bring the carts. We’ll take the ancillary men to the Volken first, then this one and her pack.”

  20

  I woke to a world of pain, a world that swayed back and forth with nauseating regularity, with an aching head and a burning desire to vomit. I cracked my eyes open and regretted it the minute I attempted it, as the sun felt like knives stabbing into my sockets. We had to be moving somewhere, I realised, as I heard the low rumble of wheels on a rough surface, but with no reassuringly even hum of a motor. I forced my eyes open, keeping my lids narrowed, and tried to make out what was happening.

  The first thing I noticed was bodies everywhere. We’d been slung inside a caged cart, one on top of the other. Slade was leaned partially sitting against the mesh sides of the cart, Finn laid across his lap, and Brandon was crumpled into a ball underneath Aaron. I saw other limbs as well, but a heavy weight kept me pinned to the cart floor. I shifted, reaching for my Tirian strength and coming up empty. “Fuck…” I grunted into the rough wooden floor, my head throbbing in a rapid tattoo as I panted, trying to pull some energy from somewhere, anywhere.