Moon Battle (The Wolf Wars #4)

by H. D. Gordon

  Nahari agreed.

  They took down five more Hounds before Nahari’s attention was diverted by a howl of pain she recognized instantly.

  Ozias.

  Nahari had been so absorbed in the fight that she’d lost track of him. She searched frantically for him, and spotted him in the middle of two Hounds. Blood spattered the ground all around him, along with the bodies of the Hounds he’d already taken down. The howl of pain had likely been due to the tear on his right ear. It had been split right down the middle, and blood from it now dripped into his glowing eyes.

  She rushed toward him without conscious thought, intent on killing those who had harmed him.

  She was only ten feet away when one of the Hounds caught him around the throat, fangs sinking deeply into the vulnerable flesh there.

  Ozias’s eyes met Nahari’s across the small space, and something inside her fractured as the light drained out of them.

  She saw red.

  Deep red, like the blood soaking every surface around them.

  The Hound was dead in the next instant, along with the other who had helped him take down Ozias.

  Ozias was not moving, and the wound in his neck gaped as blood rushed out of it.

  Nahari shifted into her mortal form without thinking, her hands shaking as she bent beside him and heard his shallow breathing. Tears burned her eyes. She blinked and they slid down her cheeks, hot and wet, cutting tracks through the grime smeared there.

  Tearing a piece of fabric from the uniform of a nearby Hound (the dumbass had come in his mortal form, wielding a bow and blade) Nahari quickly tied off Ozias’s wound. Then she summoned all of her strength and lifted his enormous body into her arms. As the battle raged on around her, she carried him as far from the chaos as she could manage. This was not a feat a mere human could have managed, but if Nahari had learned one thing on this crazy journey, it was that she was a Wolf after all, through and through. Had anyone been watching, the sight of her small form carrying the enormous Wolf might have been comical. But with so much death and destruction all around her, no one cared what happened to Ozias.

  No one except Nahari.

  This seemed to her the saddest part of it all; one of the defining characteristics of being a slave was simply that nobody at all cared what happened to you.

  But Nahari cared. She cared more than she wished she did. She cared enough that just looking at Ozias in such a state made her heart ache, her soul cry.

  She set him down in a patch of field where the wheat stalks had not yet been trampled, and cringed at the blood covering her hands as she tightened the fabric securing his throat. His eyes opened as she did so, and she almost cried out in relief, but did not for fear of revealing their very vulnerable position.

  “Ozias,” she said, smoothing her hand through his fur. It was another jab to her heart when he shuddered under her touch. “Please, stay with me, Ozias. I cannot do this on my own.”

  His eyes slipped closed for a moment, and her heart stopped altogether, but then they peeled back open again with what seemed like monumental effort.

  “I love you, Nahari,” he told her. “Even though I’ve never loved anyone before, and even though I’ve only known you for a short while, I’m sure of it. I love you, and I want you to know it.”

  It sounded like a goodbye, and more tears spilled over her cheeks as Nahari kissed his face, stroked a hand over his undamaged ear, and buried her head in the thick fur of his chest.

  “No,” she said. “You don’t get to tell me you love me and then die on me. I won’t have it. I won’t let you. If you love me, then fight. Please don’t leave me alone in this world. Please don’t go.”

  Even in her head, the words were spoken between sobs, and she gritted her teeth against the urge to cry out loud, to let the world know just how much pain she was in. It seemed to her that losing Ozias now was a crueler fate than she had ever imagined, that perhaps living and dying as a slave would have been gentler than this.

  When he began to shift back into his mortal form, Nahari did not try to stop him. She only watched as he made the change, biting down on the agony this must have caused him. Once it was done, he lay naked before her, his beautiful body covered in cuts and blood, same as hers.

  He did not sit up; she was sure that he could not, but he lifted his hand and rested it against her cheek. She covered it with her own, and the tears came faster as he tried to brush them away with his thumb.

  “I wanted to see you like this,” he told her, and with the words, blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth. “Through my mortal eyes.”

  Nahari could see the life leaving him, could sense him slipping away, like water through her fingers.

  She shook her head. “I will not let you die,” she said, and gently climbed atop him. Her next words came before she had a chance to consider them, and though they were drastic, Nahari knew they were right.

  “Accept me as your Mate, Ozias,” she told him, “and let me share in the injuries that are about to steal you from me.”

  She could hardly speak the words, and her heart paused again as his eyes fluttered. She wasn’t even sure it would work. His wounds might already be too far-gone, but she had to try. Even if it meant she could never Mate again, as Wolves only ever form a Mate Bond once in their lifetimes.

  If there was even a thread’s worth of a chance that it could save him, it was worth it.

  Nahari took his muscular shoulders into her hands and shook him. “Ozias,” she repeated. “Do you accept me as your Mate? Please, Ozias, I need you to say it. You have to speak the words.”

  His eyes opened again, just a crack, and his lips twitched up as more blood bubbled at the corners. “Of course… I… accept you… as my… Mate… Nahari,” he said, each word a struggle.

  It was all she needed to hear.

  She bent over him and licked the blood trickling down his neck. Then she sat up and placed the laceration that was on her arm to his mouth, making sure her blood went down his throat as well.

  As she did so, his eyes snapped fully open and glowed a brighter shade of Wolf-gold than she had ever seen.

  All that was left to do was consummate the Mate Bond, and they would be one. Her life would be tied to his, for as long as they both should live.

  But Ozias’s eyes closed again an instant later, his breathing even shallower than before.

  He was on the edge of death, and Nahari was not sure even the Mate Bond could save him.

  She could only hope it would be enough.

  She was not alone in the feeling.

  28

  Rook

  I’d known going in that it would not be enough.

  The Pack Masters’ combined forces were too great. They had made it past our makeshift barriers before we’d managed to take out a fraction of them.

  I’d lost track of how many Hounds I’d killed. They were starting to blur together. There was no time for anything except to fight, to kill or be killed. It seemed to me that this whole battle was nothing more than a culmination of my entire life. I’d been fighting for survival for as long as I could remember, and I’d been lucky up until now.

  It seemed my luck was about to run out.

  A bolt of what looked like lightning, but was instead a rare form of Demon magic, zinged past my ear and struck a Hound that I hadn’t realized had been sneaking up behind me.

  It hit him right in the eye, and he dropped like a fly, his howl of pain lost in the chaos of the night. I turned and saw Asha, sparks still flying from her fingertips as she helped us take on the Hounds.

  “You’re welcome, Rukiya dearest,” she shouted over the fray.

  Leave it to Asha to be cool and controlled in such a situation. We were losing, that fact was becoming more and more obvious, and yet she was cracking jokes.

  I wasn’t sure if this annoyed me or I admired it. Maybe both.

  The rain had begun to fall in earnest, turning the dirt into mud, and making the battle even tougher to e
ngage in. Not only was it hard to see as the rain picked up, but the moisture made it hard to gain purchase with both fang and paw.

  When the Hounds had broken through the barriers, Ryker and I had been engaged in combat, and he had gotten a grip on my throat. But he had released me and slipped off under cover of chaos, and I had not spotted him again.

  Even so, I knew he was out there, likely watching and waiting for his chance.

  But I could not spare him any thoughts when I still had to kill the Hounds that were currently attacking.

  I snapped and dodged, darted and rolled, bit and got bitten. The injuries I’d sustained at this point were too many to count, the pain congealing to encompass my entire body. On top of that, I was growing weary. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep fighting full tilt, but I had a feeling that however long that was, it was not long enough.

  A boom of thunder roared across the night, momentarily drowning out the sounds of battle and the cries of the dying. Lightning threw the scene into sharp relief as the rain poured down in buckets.

  And, still, the Hounds continued to come.

  I was just spitting out a hunk of hot meat when Akila landed in front of me. Her talons dug into the soft earth as she removed the heads of two approaching Hounds with a single sweep of her blade. I’d never seen any creature battle the way Akila and her daughters fought, and thought it was no wonder that Adriel had placed her at the top of his forces, giving her the position of general for all intents and purposes.

  But even the great Harpy Warrior was growing tired. It was not something that could be seen, as every inch of her thrummed with the power of a true predator, but I could see it in her eyes.

  When one did not enjoy it, so much killing had a way of taking its toll. I understood that as well as anybody.

  Slicing at another Hound, Akila spoke through gritted teeth. “We’re needed at the eastern end,” she said, as the head of a Hound thudded to the ground between us.

  The eastern side was where Goldie was, fighting the troops from the east and north. I was afraid to ask, but didn’t need to, because Akila continued.

  “The Wolves over there are being slaughtered,” she said. “The Valac army has arrived, and the Erl Queen has come with them.”

  I shifted into my mortal form in the next instant, despite the energy drain. I would be easier to carry this way.

  “Take me,” I said.

  Akila snatched me up in her enormous talons and we shot up into the air.

  The Erl Queen.

  The bitch had saved me a visit to that dreadful forest, and I wanted to make sure and seize the opportunity.

  Flying over the battle now, I could see why the luster had left Akila; from this vantage point, it was painfully obvious that we were losing. We’d been losing before the Valac army had arrived, and my eyes went to the mass of black-armored Valacs pushing in behind the Hounds. There had to be thousands of them, all as large and intimidating as Vega, all wielding those heavy blades that could cut through bone and sinew in a single swipe.

  We sailed closer, and as we did so, I spotted the Queen sitting in the middle of her host, atop a pallet that was being carried by four Valac Warriors, one at each corner. She was not in her mortal form, but had taken that of her true shape, and her eight long and slimy tentacles cascaded over the pallet and dragged along the ground, the suctioned tips of them groping at the bloodied earth below.

  I told Akila to get me as close as she could, and I would take care of the rest.

  A few moments later, I was dropping, a blade shoved into my hands before Akila released me. “She can’t be killed, but you can remove her head,” the Harpy had told me on the way over.

  A few heartbeats later, my feet hit the pallet on which the Erl Queen perched. I looked into her black eyes as I raised the blade high over my head and brought it down toward her neck with every bit of strength left in me.

  I was knocked off my feet before the blade even came within a foot of her neck. I hit the ground a second later, the air rushing out of me in a whoosh.

  Above me, the Erl Queen smiled smugly, and before I could blink, one of her nasty tentacles shot out and gripped me around the neck. Air was cut off from my lungs abruptly, and my vision blurred as I blinked and tried to refocus. The tentacle tightened, and I was vaguely aware of being lifted off the ground, of the blade in my hand clattering to the ground as I clawed uselessly at the Erl Queen’s grip.

  “Stupid little bitch,” the Erl Queen snarled. She pulled me closer, holding me up as though I weighed nothing more than a sack of feathers. Her hot breath fanned my face, her hold closing tighter.

  My lungs burned like the fires of Hades, but no air got through, and my vision began to grow dark around the edges.

  In a voice that was a sweet whisper, the Erl Queen crooned, “If it makes you feel better, you and your friends never stood a chance. You were nothing but pawns in a game way too big for you to even comprehend. You did everything I knew you would do, everything I wanted you to do.”

  That darkness around the edges expanded, threatening to swallow me whole. There was nothing I could do to stop it. My legs kicked uselessly at the air, my fingers still clawing but unable to break her thick, slimy flesh.

  She dragged me closer still, close enough to kiss. “And I told you to stay away from Adriel, did I not? I told you he was mine, and what did you do, but go and cast your wicked little spell over him?” She clucked her tongue. “But no matter. It’s nothing your timely death can’t solve.”

  The shadows around the edges of my vision met in the middle, and I felt myself slipping away.

  Then, a very human-like cry of rage cut through the darkness, and I forced my eyes open just in time to see Vega leap onto the pallet. The sound of metal slicing through the air preceded a nasty spray of green liquid that took far too long for me to realize was the Erl Queen’s blood.

  The pressure around my throat eased considerably, and I was able to pull the tentacle from my neck. It flopped heavily to the ground, where it writhed like a snake, having been severed clean from the Erl Queen’s body.

  Her scream of agony was like music to my ears, and as I coughed and sucked down precious air, I stared at Vega in wonder.

  He had not stopped there, but instead had removed two more of her limbs before the other Valac fell on him. I stumbled forward, trying to reach him but nearly toppling over when my head spun. I attempted to make the shift back into my Wolf form, but was not fast enough.

  A roar tore across the night, drowning out the thunder and all the other sounds, as one of the other Valac Warriors—an enormous male who seemed to swim in shadows—impaled Vega with his blade.

  I realized later that the roar had come from me. I reached him just as the light left his eyes, just in time to hear his last words, spoken so softly that if not for my sensitive Wolf ears, I would not have caught them.

  “Don’t be sad,” he told me. “Finally, I’m free.”

  Some tiny part of me died with him as Vega drew his last breath and his large body slumped to the ground.

  I was so distraught that I forgot the precariousness of my own situation, swiped up the blade Akila had given me, and charged at the Erl Queen.

  She was grinning. From ear-to-ear, like the Gods damned jackal that she was.

  And I was going to cut the smug smile right off her face.

  Or so I thought.

  Just before I reached her, the Erl Queen lifted a tentacle in goodbye, and sank into a portal that opened up in the earth, about to lose her head to my sword one second, and gone the next.

  She left some parting words for her Valac, however, telling them to finish the job.

  To me, she said, “I’ll see you if you make it through this, Rukiya dearest.”

  Another cry of rage tore across the night, ripping from my throat harshly. The Valac surrounded me, and I fought them as best I could.

  When Goldie appeared beside me, saving me from death by Valac, I almost wished she had n
ot come. Though the Erl Queen was a lying, conniving bitch, she had not been wrong about one thing.

  We had never stood a chance.

  We would die on this battlefield, the lot of us, and it would be a long time before the Wolves tried to rise up again. After this defeat, who could blame them?

  As if she could read my thoughts—or perhaps hers were simply running along a similar vein—Goldie spoke swiftly into my head.

  “If we’re going to die,” my oldest friend in all the realms told me, “then let’s take as many of these bastards with us as we can… What do you say, Rookie? Are you with me?”

  I met Goldie’s gaze with steel in mine. If I had to die fighting beside someone, I was grateful that it was her.

  “Always,” I told her, and made one last shift into my Wolf form before tearing into the Valac nearest me.

  It would not be long now. The end was nigh.

  And no matter the outcome, that was something to be thankful for.

  29

  Rook

  I was death, and death was me.

  War was life, and life was war. It was all that I’d ever known, all that I ever would know.

  At some point, perhaps as I’d watched the life leave Vega’s eyes, the hope I’d held so desperately onto had also faded. We’d fought bravely, and for all the right reasons, but it was not enough.

  It had never been enough.

  I became lost beneath the Valac, defending myself because there was no room to go on the offensive, using my last remnants of strength to stave off death a little longer.

  The night stretched on endlessly, and the rain fell in buckets, as if all the Angels in the heavens were crying at the loss of so much life below. There was no way to be sure of how long we’d been fighting, only that I was ready for it to end.

  I heard rather than saw as the Valac I’d been engaging raised his deadly blade for a final time, and my eyes slipped closed as I awaited my defeat.