by Gaja J. Kos
Zarja nodded, turning her gaze back to the distant spot on the floor. A deep frown line ran down her forehead. “Why would he side with the enemy? They didn't seem to be forced to be there. He was with them, Rose. Fuck.”
Rose fought the urge to put her arm around the werewolf. Zarja would never hurt her intentionally, but emotional weres always had a spark of unpredictable in them. And Zarja was definitely the loose cannon of the pack. Rose had to keep the distance between them; it was far easier to stop the accumulating tension right before someone lashed out if you were just far enough to spot it the moment it began. And in the light of what she needed to say, she couldn't afford to not have that advantage.
“Are you sure it was Libor?”
Zarja continued to stare at the floor, but her face tightened. “I know my cousin, Rose.”
A long sigh tore from inside of her, but Rose kept her calm exterior. Stalling wouldn't ease the situation. “You remember when I promised you I'd get information on Libor?”
A curt nod from the werewolf, but it was enough to let Rose know she had Zarja's attention.
“I wanted to speak with you in private, but never got the chance, since we needed to leave so abruptly. I found your answer, Zarja. But it isn't a pleasant one...”
Zarja turned to her, her eyes filled with pain. “He crossed over? He's working against us, isn't he?”
Rose caught her gaze, keeping her face as free of emotion as she could. As much relief as it would bring to let her feelings flow freely, it wasn't worth risking it in the given situation. If a werewolf was in a state of even mildly excessive emotions, the proximity of another pack member who didn't know how—or wasn't vigilant enough—to guard himself, would work as an amplifier, one you couldn't simply turn off once the volume got too loud. And it would, without a doubt, have a devastating effect on Zarja.
“He crossed over. But not to the enemies,” Rose said softly, knowing she needed to say the three blunt words and release Zarja from the confusion. “Libor is dead.”
“But I saw him, Rose. I fucking saw him.” The werewolf whimpered and dug her head into her palms, the pull between what she had seen and what Rose had told her likely ripping her apart.
Rose reached out to Zarja, placing her hand on the shivering were's shoulder. “His soul is with Veles, has been for some time.”
“I'm not fucking crazy,” Zarja growled, yet her words weren't filled with hostility, only despair. “It was Libor. It was Libor. It was him...”
Rose remained silent for a few moments, listening to the werewolf's sobs. Grief could interfere with your senses, but she felt that wasn't the case with Zarja. It took her a while to gather her thoughts, but in the end, she realized she believed the were, maybe never even truly doubted Zarja's word.
“Wait here, okay?” Rose tightened her hold around Zarja's shoulder for a brief moment before releasing her grip. Without waiting for a response, Rose walked over to the sitting room, motioning Veles to follow her out into the hallway.
“We may have a situation.” She spoke quietly, wanting to shield their discussion from the other weres' ears. They would tell them eventually, but this was Veles's field of expertise, and since she was the only one he had shared any substantial information about the immortal world with, they needed to work out what they could share with them in privacy before telling the slightly altered version to the rest of the pack.
To make it easier to whisper, he brought Rose's body closer to him, almost pressing her to his chest. He wrapped his hands around her waist as she crossed hers behind his neck, leaning her forehead onto the soft plumpness of his lips. The light pressure of his kiss calmed her mind enough to give him a quick and clear rundown of the final moments of the battle, concluding it with Zarja's experience.
“I believe her.” She leaned back into him, whispering the words into his body. She looked up to find that entrancing shade of green staring down at her. “She's grieving, but she's not so far gone to not know what she saw.”
Rose fell quiet, releasing a small breath before speaking again. “I saw White werewolves there, standing alongside Libor. I know the enemy could have recruited them from any pack in the world, but if it was, in fact, Libor who was standing in line with them... What if the Whites came from the Czech Republic, as well?”
The black rims seemed to bleed into the rich olive color of his eyes as he continued to stare at her, his face unmoving.
“You know something, don't you?” She took a step back without breaking the embrace.
“I may know something. We'll need to examine the carcass you brought with you so that I can be certain.”
He moved one of his hands from her waist, trailing it through her damp hair. The strawberry blonde locks wrapped around his fingers as if they were returning the caress.
“I hope I'm mistaken, Rosalind.”
She searched the perfect angles of his face for answers, but all she saw was concern. “Why?”
“I may have put you in far greater danger than I had originally thought.”
Chapter 24
Zarja sat on the bed with one leg still curled under her body. She gazed into the distance but was visibly calmer than when Rose had last seen her. The smooth lines of her face weren't a façade. Zarja was never one to put much effort into masking her emotions, but Rose was still unsure whether the werewolf was stable enough to deal with any more unsettling news. If things took a turn for the worse, at least the whole pack was present to help her in her struggle.
“Veles may know what has happened.”
Zarja turned her eyes to Rose who remained standing by the door, one of her arms hugging the other just over the elbow. “So, I did see Libor?”
Veles hadn't offered Rose much insight into what dark thought had crossed his mind and caused the pitch black color to bleed into the green of his irises, but in the vault of his immortal knowledge lay a thought that was able to bring the fragments together into something logically believable.
At first, Rose wondered if he had shut her out, but relying on her intuition rather than thinking about him as a regular, common being, she realized the god was shielding her from harmful knowledge. However, if his hunch proved to be right, he wouldn't keep her on the sidelines for much longer. And since he wanted the whole pack in the room with him, it was a safe bet that for this piece of immortal knowledge, he was prepared to widen the circle of recipients.
“I wish I could give you an answer, but I can't. Not yet, at least.” She moved away from the doorframe, motioning the werewolf to follow her. “Veles needs to work his godly skills before he can be sure. He's waiting for us in the other room.”
Zarja climbed off the bed, fastening her robe, which had threatened to come undone, only a very loosely tied belt still holding it in place. Rose caught a glimpse of the werewolf's toned body brushing the edges of the fabric, the clean lines of muscles flexing as she moved towards the door. She turned away before Zarja could catch a glimpse of the light blush creeping up her cheeks. Any love that had existed between them was gone, but Rose never did stop seeing the older were as anything but attractive.
Voices from the other room saved her from the whispers of memories that danced through her mind, wanting to resurface in a violent explosion. She followed the sound into the sitting room, the rose color disappearing from her cheeks with every step, until the warm feel of Veles's still dormant power brushed her skin, reminding her of the present.
The pack sat divided into small groups on the futons, which had been drawn into a semicircle on the edge of the rug, while Veles kneeled beside the body. The black strands of his hair fell like a curtain across his face when he leaned over the carcass; although Rose couldn't see it from behind the dark mass, she felt his attentive gaze search the dead werewolf with utmost precision. He was careful to avoid any contact, hunching his body over the corpse in a fluid motion to study it from all sides.
Likely feeling the weight of her gaze on him, he turned to her, affection softening
his face; the hard lines that must have been there mere seconds ago drained away as his eyes locked onto hers. “Zarja can sit with the pack, but I want you near me.”
Rose walked into the center of the room without uttering a word or even nodding and sat down cross-legged next to Veles's lean figure. She knew him well enough to read his body language, and it was letting her know to be as near as she could while still keeping her distance.
Zarja observed the two of them as she walked over to the futon closest to the door and squeezed herself between Jens and Jürgen, who gladly accepted her company. They nuzzled at her, a gesture usually reserved for when they were in wolf form, but the calming effect worked just as well.
Veles's gaze ran across the gathered pack; he bowed his head in a content nod before speaking. The fullness of his voice carried an air of steadiness within it, fitting for a god of his power. “Rose had told me of Nathaniel's findings. This carcass you have brought bears the same puncture wound as the White werewolves. The toxin has melded with his body and remains in it even now.”
Rose could feel the weres' impulse to growl at the mention of the toxin, a reaction that came to them naturally in the presence of something as vile as the lethal green liquid, yet none dared to do so in Veles's striking godly presence. Even Rose remained quiet, the feel of the power that moved underneath his skin brushing over her senses, making it almost impossible for her to believe that a being of such strength saw her as a partner. A mortal partner, but one nonetheless.
“What I intend to do is something closed off from anyone who does not belong to the immortal world.”
The silence carried his words, their weight bringing out a quiet glimmer of understanding in the werewolves' eyes. The severity of the situation had granted them a privilege to be a part of something only beings of the highest circle could know.
“You need to remain silent and unmoving; only after Rose gives you permission can you go back to your werewolf ways.”
There was a smile on his lips as he said those last words, and Rose understood the god had come to appreciate the ways of her pack, even their affinity to speak more than was needed, especially when it came to the twins. Veles turned to Rose, the green fire already burning with a steady flame in his eyes.
“You'll know,” he said softly, his voice carrying the caresses he couldn't offer her with his touch, the distance keeping them apart.
She nodded and observed the strain slowly return to his face when he turned his attention back to the corpse lying in front of him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes while his fingers reached out to brush over the dark brown fur, finding the correct position on the skull.
Rose held her breath, her skin crawling with the silent power that surged from Veles. The god remained motionless, his fingers locked in position on the werewolf's bloodied temples. There was an unnatural quality to the quiet that filled the room, and she realized she wasn't the only one not daring to breathe. Veles's power pulsed outwards with the unyielding vibration of crashing waves, and through the bond of The Dark Ones that had otherwise been dormant since their return, Rose knew the pack sensed it, too.
Veles shrieked, the rush of his energy exploding through the room as he hunched farther over the carcass in a spasm, his tense muscles visible through the thin fabric of his shirt. He held his position, his breaths coming out with a grunting sound that spoke of anguish. With a shattering scream, he fell backward, as if his power had been rebuffed, casting him out of the body. He had broken the contact his fingers had held with the carcass, and the rush of energy subsided with it, making the space more breathable once again.
Rose crawled over to the god lying motionless on the carpet, his eyes pressed shut with visible tension. She positioned herself behind him, cradling his head in her arms; not knowing what else she could do, she followed her intuition and let the warmth of her body wash over the coldness of his. He opened his eyes at the feel of her touch, and with horror, she realized the deep olive color of his irises had faded, leaving behind nothing but the faintest trace of the vibrant hue his gaze had once held.
He reached for her arm, bringing her wrist to the cool touch of his lips. A light burning sensation spread across her skin as his fangs broke through it, sinking into the pulsing vein that lay underneath. Color returned to his skin first, then traveled to fill in his irises, coloring them slowly from the pupil outwards.
“Welcome back,” Rose whispered as she felt the newly regained fullness of his gaze trace the lines of her face.
Veles released her wrist, reaching around her neck to pull her down into a kiss. She tasted the lingering traces of her own blood on his lips, but paid no attention to it. She kissed him deeply, feeling his presence rush into her with that unmistakable spark of energy that spoke of the god's underlying power. The sensation wrapped around her body, and in that moment, she knew Veles had truly returned.
Although she had given them the okay signal, the pack remained quiet, unmoving in their positions on the futons. But despite their restraint, she sensed the weight of their questions through the bond, as well as the newly found admiration for the lord of the underworld. She hid a small smile, knowing the werewolves weren't easily awed, and returned her attention to Veles, who still lay with his head in the embrace of her lap.
“I think we all want to know what happened,” she said softly, as if any other sound would disrupt the calmness that had set upon the room.
Veles didn't move away from the comfort of her touch, only repositioned himself slightly higher to be able to address the werewolves who had been fixedly staring at him from the moment he touched the corpse.
“Touching the souls comes natural to me. But searching bodies for their remains is taxing. My father didn't possess the strength to do it; it goes beyond the boundaries of even someone who rules the underworld.”
Rose stopped herself just in time to not tighten her grip, to not give away just how unprepared the words caught her; she hadn't known Veles had parents. His godly status led her to believe he had come into existence and had been assigned his position from the moment the first soul needed to cross. But even gods had to come from somewhere. Her mind ached with the desire to learn more, and although he mentioned his father freely, she couldn't question him now, not in the state he was in, and especially not in front of an audience.
“You can feel the remains of the soul?” she managed to ask, pushing away the thought of Veles's parentage and regaining her focus on the situation at hand.
“As souls carry the marks of who they had been in life, the body carries imprints of the soul that had once inhabited it. They aren't as distinct as the former, since the spirit represents actual life, while the body is merely a vessel animated by it, yet I can tell when the soul departed it. Sometimes it is even possible to determine which soul lay within the flesh.”
Veles nudged his head deeper into Rose's lap, feeding on the comfort she offered him. “It's what I feared.”
The pack shuffled forward, but Rose’s gaze were fixed on the grim expression on the god's face.
“We need to know,” she said softly, running her hands through his silken black strands.
He nodded, the dark hair slipping through her fingers and brushing against his shoulders as he pulled himself up in a sitting position. He slid back, so he sat by her side, facing the rest of the werewolves.
“It has been less than two hours since you have killed him,” Veles said, his gaze turning to the carcass in front of him, “yet his soul has been gone for days.”
Evelin was the first of the werewolves to speak. “The body had been animated by something else than his soul?”
Veles nodded, releasing a deep sigh. “There are species of ancient demons from foreign lands who slip into someone's corporeal form after the soul has left it. They have the ability to keep the flesh from decaying, while they are settled within it, and let it rot once they depart. They are known to come and go as they please.”
The god shuffle
d around, finding a more comfortable sitting position, as if the discomfort of what he needed to disclose tightened itself around his body.
“It is a rare phenomenon to be able to inhabit another's flesh, and I believe the one you have brought back wasn't a lone case. To have so many of them in such a limited geographical location speaks of someone pulling the strings from the shadows. It gave them organization, even a purpose. The demonic scavengers are known to be scattered around the plane of the living. They are individualists... But this has shifted their nature. It has united them.”
He looked at Rose, discomfort flattening his mouth into a thin, sharp line as the green fire began to blaze in his irises.
“We have been foolish. They alerted us to their identity from the very start. Not for our benefit, no, but maybe to evoke fear in case we did realize what the markings on the victims meant... But I strongly believe the motive was nothing short of arrogance. Ancient beings tend to let their ego get in the way of common sense.”
Rose searched his face as she pushed herself to ask the question she almost didn't want to hear the answer to. “You know what the WV stands for, don't you?”
“Werewolf vetala.”
Chapter 25
“This ‘werewolf vetala’ is the one behind all of this?” Mark asked, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.
“No.” Veles blew out a breath, not in irritation with the question, but with the lack of a better answer. “The werewolf vetalas are merely those who reinforce their leader's will.” His gaze dropped to the body lying in front of him. “They are soldiers, like him.”
Rose shifted her position, bringing her legs to her torso and hugging them with her arms. She laid her cheek on her knees, peering at the god. “And you believe all those weres we saw today are as he is?”
