Moon Battle (The Wolf Wars #4)

by H. D. Gordon

  From the Northern tower—built by Hudson Benedict over eighty sun cycles ago, and half the height of the one I currently occupied—I heard Goldie’s familiar howl. I pulled my gaze from the chaos to the South just as the Northern host broke from the tree line in the distance. Thousands of eyes glowing Wolf-gold gleamed out at me.

  There had not been time to dig trenches all the way around Dogshead, but there had been time to carve more wooden spears and arrange them at an angle that created a deadly barrier between the Packs and us. These spears had also been set right into the fields of lavender wheat, the high stalks and darkening night providing them with a veil.

  This was why Goldie had her Wolves push in from behind the Northern Pack. She was also trying to herd them right toward death by impalement. From my vantage point, I could see that this was not as effective as the trench, but was better than nothing.

  I gripped the ledge of the watchtower as the battle raged below me, trying not to count any chickens before they’d hatched. The defenses we’d set up seemed to be holding, and I’d kept the majority of our forces within those defenses, so that any Hounds who made it through would find themselves facing some very angry former Dogs.

  At last, the West Coast Pack pulled close enough for me to get a good look at the male leading them, and even though I was one hundred and fifty feet in the air and separated by a sea of warring Wolves, Ryker’s gaze found mine across the distance.

  The answer to my earlier question was immediately answered.

  Yes, Ryker hated me all right. He hated me enough that he’d brought an entire army to crush me, and the space separating us was not enough to keep me from feeling those intense emotions even across the battlefield.

  Soon, the sounds of war were so loud that they congealed into a terrible chorus of snarls and howls, yelps and screams, curses and cries. The smell of blood filled the air, juxtaposing the fresh scent of the coming rain. I took a turn around the watchtower, taking in the scene in a three-sixty. The East Coast Pack had not yet arrived, nor had the Valac host, and for now, at least, our defenses were holding.

  I came to a stop on the Western side of the tower, once again finding Ryker instantly, as if my mind were an arrow and he a target.

  I projected a thought to my former lover, the Wolf whom I’d given myself to, only to have him betray me by trying to force me into a Mate Bond.

  “Come and get me, you stupid son of a bitch,” I said.

  Ryker’s response was instant.

  “With pleasure.”

  26

  Rook

  Night descended over Dogshead like a blanket.

  A full moon appeared overhead, casting a silver-blue glow over the countryside. Wolves from all over fought and died, all of them in the name of honor, even if the ideals behind it differed greatly.

  The barriers were still holding, the various traps we’d set working as planned. The East Coast Pack arrived about an hour after the bloodshed began, bursting onto the scene and renewing the vigor of the other Hounds.

  When the Valac host appeared in the distance, the confidence I’d felt earlier threatened to fray, but I shoved those thoughts away. The rebels were fighting valiantly, the former Dogs formidable in combat for obvious reasons, but the Hounds just kept on coming.

  From every direction, they kept on coming.

  Several times, I’d nearly left my position and joined the fighting, but I’d refrained because I was needed to command our forces to the south and west, while Goldie commanded those to the north and east.

  I was so engrossed in the scene that I didn’t see Akila coming until she lit on the watchtower railing, surprising me so thoroughly that I nearly fell back onto my ass.

  The Harpy Warrior was magnificent in her battle armor, the vibrant sapphire and scarlet of her feathers gleaming under the light of the moon. Her face was streaked with blood, as was her blade, which dangled from one hand while her taloned feet clung to the railing for purchase.

  “Watch the Western host,” Akila said. “They’re getting close to breaking through our defenses, and if they do, the others will follow shortly after. We need to keep them out a little longer.”

  Before I could even entertain a response, Akila leapt off the railing and opened her enormous wings, gliding back down into the battle toward the west, blade gleaming like a shooting star across the night. I watched her take out three Hounds in a single swipe before flying out of reach and darting back down into the crowd the way a hawk might dive toward a lake after spotting a fish.

  But even with all the traps we’d set, and the help of the Harpies, and even Asha, who was currently using her Demon magic to hold back the new arrivals to the east, the tide was turning in the favor of the Pack Masters. Though we were clever and diverse, they did not care about the loss of lives to their ranks, only that there was another squad of Hounds to send in their place.

  And there was Vega, so intimidating in his Valac armor, cutting down Hounds with his blade, moving with the skill and speed of an avenging Angel. If one Valac could cut into the ranks like he was doing, what would a whole host of them do?

  I told myself then that if I lived through this, I would pay that bitch the Erl Queen a visit to let her know exactly how I felt about her meddling.

  There was a knock on my mental shields, and the familiarity of it caused in unpleasant shiver to crawl up my spine. Nonetheless, I acquiesced.

  Into my mind, Ryker said, “You plan on sitting out the entire fight, Rook? I’d thought better of you… But I figured you might need a little incentive, which is why I came prepared.”

  My heart dropped at his words, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. The West Coast Pack was much closer now, and I could just make out the smug smile on Ryker’s face as he gestured to someone behind him.

  The Hound he’d summoned was not alone; he was dragging a female behind him, a female with big dark eyes and dark hair. In the same way that I’d recognized Ryker from how he’d carried himself, I knew the female instantly.

  Kalene.

  The first friend I’d made when I’d been purchased by Reagan Ramsey as a Dog and shipped off to the West Coast Territory. The last time I’d seen her, Ryker had made her a handmaiden in the tower in which he’d kept me when trying to force the Mate Bond upon me.

  If Kalene had looked bad then, she looked terrible now. The spark that had always gleamed in her eyes was gone, as was the sultry way in which she’d moved. Now, her head was down, her eyes fixed on the earth, her once vibrant ebony hair hanging limply over her face. She’d lost weight, and her once strong and curvy body was now a shell of her former self.

  She’d scowled at me that last time, telling me that everything that had happened was my fault, that I’d escaped into freedom while Ryker had taken his anger with me out on her.

  And she was not wrong.

  I should have known he would bring her along to taunt me.

  And it was working.

  I let out one last howl, and leapt over the edge of the tower. The ground rushed up to meet me, but Akila caught me in her talons and slowed my descent, dropping me again when I was only ten feet from the earth. By the time I touched down, my feet were paws. The shift had been nearly instant.

  My eyes glowed Wolf-gold as I charged toward the West Coast Pack, toward Ryker, one last time.

  The change in perspective was jarring.

  Standing upon the watchtower, I’d had a bird’s eye view of the battles raging below, the Packs pushing in at the edges and the Wolves on our side holding them back. Down here, the scent of blood was palpable, the cries of the dying more intimate. In the distance, those dark thunderheads had moved closer, and lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the scene for brief and horrifying moments.

  While logically I had known that the loss of life in this battle would be great on all sides, knowing something and witnessing it were two different things completely. Suddenly, a lifetime of brutality that I had been sure was a curse turned i
nto a blessing, as if every fight in The Ring had been preparing me for this very moment.

  The bloodshed and death did not make me falter. They were longtime acquaintances of mine, and no matter what happened tonight, I would give them a final goodbye.

  I’d already shifted, all that was left was to fight and survive.

  As I barreled toward the west, another familiar mental presence reached out to me, and though I recognized it, it was hard to accept for how weak the owner had become.

  “Kalene?”

  “Rukiya,” came the weak reply, “Don’t fall for his trap. He wants you to be angry, so that you’ll be distracted.”

  Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away as I tore through the lavender wheat, the sounds of the fighting growing closer with each step.

  “Kalene, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I never should have left you. You were right; this is all my fault. Everything that has happened—everything that’s happened to you. I’m sorry.”

  My friend’s voice came back stronger, and something in my soul was soothed at hearing it. “No,” she said. “I was wrong, Rook. Wrong about what I said to you. You did what you had to in order to survive, just like every Dog that makes it past their fifth year of life. None of this is your fault. It’s the fault of the Pack Masters, the greedy and selfish Wolves who want so damn much that nobody else can have any.”

  My throat went tight, and I did not know what to say to this, wasn’t sure I could trust the voice in my mind not to break on the words.

  Kalene continued, “Rook, listen to me. You must kill Ryker and the other Pack Masters. You must secure the freedom of all Wolves, and after, make sure our people never live in such conditions again. It’s not fair to ask this of you, but like it or not, the Gods seemed to have chosen you and your comrades for this task. So much life has been lost already, so make sure it counts for something.”

  Again, words failed me. I only dropped my head and continued toward the chaos faster, the earth flying beneath my paws as I tore across the plantation.

  All of a sudden, a moment of clarity struck me, and I picked up my pace even more. “Kalene! Wait!” I called out, somehow anticipating what she was going to do.

  Her last words echoed in my head as I charged forth.

  “Thank you, Rukiya Moonborn, for giving hope to so many, for fighting when lying down would have been so much easier.”

  “Kalene!” I called out again, and this time did not receive an answer.

  Though I could not see her through the wheat and distance separating us, I knew instinctually what she had done. She’d shifted into her Wolf form and taken down three Hounds around her before they were able to put her down.

  The proof was in the pudding when I reached the western border, and there was nothing I could do to stop the howl of rage that ripped up my throat as I took in the unmoving form of Kalene’s Wolf. Around her, the bodies of the Hounds she’d killed were also scattered, and her words echoed once more through my head.

  You must kill Ryker and the other Pack Masters… So much life has been lost already. Make sure it’s not for nothing.

  I wasn’t sure if I could hold up that entire bargain, but there was one part of it I was pretty sure I could accomplish.

  And that was killing Ryker.

  I was almost at the border when I came skidding to a stop as a Wolf jumped into my path.

  “Rukiya, my love,” Ryker crooned. “Alone at last.”

  Until this very moment, I’d been under the illusion that I was past all of the trauma Ryker had put me through. He’d locked me up, drugged me, manipulated me, telling me that it was because he loved me, that he needed me. But looking at him now, so much larger than me in our Wolf forms, that entitled look still in his eyes, I knew that I was not over it.

  I was still angry—No, I was pissed as hell.

  Overhead, the thunderheads had finally arrived in Dogshead, and the first drops of rain struck my nose, catching in my thick fur, creating a superficial screen between Ryker and me. When a flash of lightning lit up the sky, casting the scene into sharp relief, I released a growl and charged.

  Ryker and I collided with enough force to knock the wind out of me, jaws snapping for purchase. He was much larger, but I was faster, though our fury seemed to be matched inch for inch.

  I scrambled back, and it was a good thing I did, because at that moment, the West Coast Pack broke through the makeshift barriers we’d constructed, spilling into Dogshead in a swarm of fur and fangs.

  From the howl that Goldie released, I knew that they were not the only ones.

  The message was clear. The stronghold had finally been breached, and now we would face the full force of the Pack Masters’ armies.

  For better or for worse.

  Refocusing on the task at hand, I found Ryker watching me as hordes of Hounds poured past him. We’d done everything we could to hold them off, to outwit them and weaken their forces, but now it would come down to fang-to-fang combat.

  Going for the vulnerable spot on his neck, I charged once more toward Ryker.

  But he caught me around the throat instead.

  27

  Nahari

  The Hounds were past the barriers, their forces overwhelming.

  Dogshead was flooded with Wolves, so many that it was hard to tell who was fighting for whom. Luckily, the former Dogs seemed to have a knack for spotting Hounds, and Ozias had taken out a good number by himself. If she had not been so distracted with killing of her own, Nahari would have taken a moment to admire his deadly dance.

  As it was, a moment of distraction was just enough time to get one killed. The taste of blood coated her tongue, her muzzle covered in it. She darted toward a Hound that was sneaking up behind Ozias as he engaged another, and went for the soft spot under his belly. Before the battle had begun, Ozias had told her to use her smaller size to her advantage, to slip beneath the Hounds and tear at their underbellies.

  The first time she’d done it (which had been only half an hour ago, but felt like much longer) Nahari had not been prepared for the gore of it. Intellectually, she knew that coming here would be gruesome, but the actual experience of it was disorienting.

  The way the Hound’s innards had fallen out… Like a doe in the woods…

  Nahari hadn’t the time to dwell on it, however, because with every Hound they took down, three more seemed to appear in their place.

  It was kill or be killed, and she fought with everything in her, fought for all the times she’d been abused and mistreated, all those times when her absolute lack of autonomy had been utterly clear.

  Slipping beneath the large Hounds was almost too easy, as she’d practiced the maneuver with Ozias. Though she was smaller in stature, her jaws were still powerful, and they’d been made specifically for tearing into flesh.

  But so had those of the Hounds.

  The one she’d just disemboweled used his last few breaths to snap at her, and his maw clamped hard around her rear leg, eliciting a yelp of pain that made Ozias jerk his head in her direction.

  “I’m fine,” she told him quickly, knowing what her distraction could cost him.

  As she spoke the words, she tore her leg from the now-dead Hound’s jaws and turned to face another.

  The bloodshed and killing continued. The Hounds fell, but only seemed to multiply.

  Another two Hounds joined the one facing her, surrounding her in a circle of fur and fangs, eyes glowing Wolf-gold and shining bright with the lust of battle. Fear tried to spike within her, but Nahari stood her ground, letting out a low growl that revealed every one of her sharp teeth. A rope of saliva dripped from her mouth, tinted red with the blood of their comrades.

  They fell upon her in an instant, and all there was to do was to pick one and hurt him as badly as she could before they took her down.

  There was a flash of blue and red from above, the sound of metal slicing through the air, a fountain of scarlet that sprayed, and the heads of two of the Hounds thudded
to the earth before her. The third’s head followed less than a heartbeat later.

  Nahari could scarcely breathe as she blinked up at one of the creatures she’d glimpsed circling in the skies earlier, but had not yet gotten a close look at until now. It was only a moment, a stolen slice of time, but she used it to stare in awe at the Harpy.

  The Harpy stood on two legs, and had strong arms that were a lovely shade of the deepest brown. Rather than hair, however, blue feathers covered her head and tapered down her neck to form the massive blue and red wings that sprouted from her back. Her face was beautiful—perhaps the most beautiful face Nahari had ever seen—with full lips and big eyes that were as gold as an eagle’s. The Harpy smiled at Nahari’s observation, giving her a wink before cocking her head an a very birdlike fashion, and shooting back up into the sky with enough force to rustle the fur on Nahari’s face.

  Nahari stared after her for a split second before leaping onto the back of another Hound who was engaged in battle with a female and sinking her teeth deep into his shoulder. The female—Nahari did not know who she was, but would have guessed she was a former working lady based on the sheen of her coat—gave her a nod of thanks before tearing at the Hound’s throat as he tried to buck Nahari free.

  Once he was dead between them, there were more Hounds to kill.

  Always more Hounds to kill, and a quick glance around her revealed that the rebel forces were thinning. Even with the help of the Harpies, the Pack Masters’ combined forces were just too great.

  There was a knock on the door to her mind, and the other female spoke into Nahari’s head. “Let’s take them down together,” the female said. “Like ladies of a proper Pack.”