by Brea Viragh
Angling for control like any wolf around a carcass. It did nothing but show her what the man tried to hide. How powerless he truly was.
She cleared her throat, voice thin and scratchy. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”
Desmond swam up and bobbed among the gentle lapping waters near the reeds at her feet. I am with you, whatever you choose to do. And not because you are a Princess. She sensed the rueful humor through their mental connection. But because I’ve been sitting here idle for too long. I’ve seen too much hurt to let it go on. I believe that if anyone can find a way to break our curse, then it is you. You are my friend no matter how long we have known each other. I stand with you.
“I know you do.”
Behind the statement there was nothing but cold calm. Unnerving to hear from someone like Desmond.
Odessa forced herself to smile at both of them. “It means so much that you have faith in me. That you are willing to fight with me.”
If you can use your connections to the outside world, then we might have a chance, Desmond continued. He’s never had anyone like you here before. And...I’m afraid that anyone even remotely close to me in the past has forgotten about me by now. I have no one coming.
She ignored the pain in those thoughts. “If only we had a go-between messenger. It would make the wait that much easier.”
Examining the water, underneath the assessing weight of the two birds’ stares, she wondered if she would ever be able to live up to their opinions of her. Or if their faith was entirely misplaced.
CALEN JERKED HIS CHIN in the direction of the voice, fighting a losing battle to ignore the anxiety skittering along his spine. They’d been found out. Someone had followed them here, to this place it had taken him everything to get to again. Not physically, no. They’d covered the miles as though they were nothing. But emotionally, mentally...
He never thought he’d step foot over that threshold.
His blood chilled at the interruption. “Come into the light where we can see you,” he called out. With much more confidence than he felt at the moment.
A flash of white teeth, a smirk, before Ghast withdrew from the shadows. “Rather interesting for you to demand something of me, Siegfried. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were speaking like you outranked me. We both know that will never happen.”
Van went still at his side.
How the hell had Ghast gotten wind of their plans? They’d been gone most of the day and walked straight to the suite upon returning to the manor house.
Calen wanted to slap himself. Stupid, they’d been stupid, training together in the open air where anyone might have seen them. Seen them and known how strange it was for someone of Van’s stature to even carve out a minute of his time for someone like Calen, let alone take a personal or vested interest no matter what excuse was given.
“Don’t get me started on how this looks,” Ghast continued and gestured in a circle with his finger. “It looks like something that needs to be shut down immediately.”
From across the room, Calen could have sworn he saw the great shadow of a wolf before Ghast stepped even closer, his grin wide and lazy.
“I didn’t realize we would have company,” Van replied.
The knot in Calen’s chest grew small and dense, tighter and tighter until he fought against raising his hand to the area.
“Well, when there is talk of death, I follow.”
Death.
The word clanged through him.
“Don’t come any closer,” Calen breathed. As if he had even an ounce of ground in whatever fight was coming. And make no mistake, from the look in Ghast’s eyes, it was coming.
Ghast cocked his head to the side, grin fading away as his mouth tightened. “You’re the one stepping out of line. I’m not the monster you think I am, but if you insist on breaking the rules and gallivanting where you don’t belong, then trust me. I can be the monster.”
“We aren’t doing anything. Stand down.” Van’s voice was a whip of sound. No need to growl. No need to posture or exert his authority in any other way.
Calen turned his attention inward for half a second, searching for his own wolf. He didn’t want Van to fight his battles for him. Didn’t need anyone else to stick up for him. And came upon that invisible, endless hole again. He was so tired. Drained from the day and the conversation with the Nightwalker—
“No. You’re trespassing. Pretty suspicious if you ask me, even for the son of an alpha.”
The raw power in Ghast’s voice—that of the twin wolves, of Alex’s personal hit men and bodyguards—had his hair rising on instinct.
Only when Van stepped forward did the tension in the room stretch to a snapping point, and Calen realized he had been staring.
“Did you think no one would follow you here?” Ghast continued. “You are still on private property, under Alex’s jurisdiction. Which makes it my business.”
“I think whatever it is you are searching for, you aren’t going to find it here, not with us.”
Van didn’t bother to explain himself. Why would he? Ghast was nothing but glorified muscle, not even allowed to attend the meetings that had been taking place since the kidnapping and disappearance.
For him to stand there and demand answers from Van was ludicrous.
“I suggest you turn around right now and go back to whatever nose-to-the-ground scouting Alex and my father have you doing. Leave us,” Van said, pointing out the door.
Ghast simply stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Impenetrable silence stretching between them.
“I think I’ll show myself out.” Calen’s knees wobbled as he walked, to the point where he could hardly stay upright as he forced his way across the room. His eyes did not meet Ghast’s as he passed. His gaze remained on the floor until he was well and truly outside. Away from the stifling confines of the cabin and everything it represented.
Not far enough away, however, to avoid hearing Van’s whispered, “Did anyone follow you?”
Chapter 15
Van looked the other wolf up and down, assessing. Weighing whether it had been the right decision to trust Ghast. It had gone against his better judgment to bring in someone from the outside. However, one whiff of the twin wolf’s power during those first days and he had begun to rethink his strategy.
Ears on the inside, ears where no one expected them to be, could be an asset. An important one. It had been merely a matter of finding the resources to sway Nova and Ghast away from Alex.
There was no kindness on Van’s face as he stared down the immovable assassin.
“You’re sure you weren’t followed?” he repeated.
The lone twin wolf rolled his eyes. “Do you think at this point, I’d be stupid enough to leave a trail? I know what I’m doing. I know the dangerous game we play.”
A small, vulnerable part of Van wondered. His mouth went dry.
The interior of the cabin left much to the imagination, and in the shadows, if Van had been an imaginative sort, he might have pictured things crawling. Ghosts in the woodwork and demon eyes staring at them through the glass.
Ghast caught his eye and Van nodded. A flicker of his fingertips had magic rippling like fire, encasing the room in an unbreakable barrier and ensuring they would not be overheard.
A small power it had taken him years to fully perfect. When he finished, his breath became uneven.
They’d needed a place to talk and strategize, that much he did know, but choosing this place, in addition to its distance from the manor house, had been a slightly underhanded way to see if Calen could get past his fears and find his inner wolf.
Nothing yet. If Siegfried did not find a way to shift, then they had no chance in winning this fight. It did not make sense, but somehow, Van knew that shift was integral to their victory.
“It wasn’t that hard to slip away.” Ghast was saying. “The alphas are deep in discussion and haven’t the time to be bothered with trivial matters, like who is spea
king to whom and who is slipping out the back door under cover of night.”
“And Nova?”
“Is standing watching outside the office doors. If anyone wakes, if anyone moves, then we will know.”
Van needed those services, he reassured himself. He needed whatever extra muscle he could line his pockets with, even when he wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision. That was why he’d gone behind Calen’s back to arrange this.
In war, there were no good decisions. There were only bad ones and horrible ones. He’d had to decide, although this was no war, where to place his cards. Ghast’s particular skill set was one of value. Skills to track down what they might need before the final battle.
There were more experienced hunters in his own pack, sure, but none he trusted.
Van blinked, knowing he could be betrayed whenever Ghast felt the need and hoping his instincts hadn’t gotten him into trouble. Hoping he’d put those cards in the right order. And with Calen far off, returning to the manor house, then there were things to discuss.
“Then let’s get down to business.”
He spent the next thirty minutes discussing the barest minimal detail of his plan. Ghast did not know where the pelts had been stored, nor if they still existed. He almost wanted to say that Alex had wanted them burned after discovery.
“The families would want them returned,” Van argued, kicking his shoe against the floor and watching dust motes float up.
“The alpha’s word is law,” Ghast replied with a shrug. As though he had never thought to question or argue before.
“Do you think you can find out where the pelts are, if they are still around?”
Ghast set him with a grim look. “I can try. It will take me a few days.”
“Then by all means, get to it. Use whatever means you must but be discreet about it.”
The wolf was surprisingly quiet, as though he understood that they tread a very dangerous line by meeting like this.
“We use him as bait,” Ghast gestured with his chin. “Is that right?”
“Yes. Whatever we have to do to draw out the mage, we do. He will be safe the whole time.” A nod to Ghast assured Van of this fact.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“No.”
“We are willingly risking his life without informing him of the risk.” A flash of claws cut through the darkness before retreating into Ghast’s human hands. That, accompanied by a flash of wrath—at Van, at himself, at what they faced—told him what he needed to know.
That the twin wolves would do what it took to protect their people. Even with the way Nova and Ghast riffed on Calen, despite their teasing.
“I would do it again.” Van shoved away from the wall, leaving footprints in the dust.
So, Van told Ghast enough to get them on the same page and revealed nothing of his true intentions in exchange for information. He kept his voice and face unreadable, answering questions when he could and avoiding outright lies at other times.
When he was done, the twin wolf said, “I’ll see what I can do about finding the hidden pelts. If anyone knows, it will be my contacts in the shadows.”
Objects like that would have power. And through that connection, Van might be able to trace it back to the wielder, unless the responsible party had used human strength, human cunning.
For some reason, he did not see that as possible.
“No need to involve anyone else. I do not trust any information from outside sources.”
“Mine are trustworthy,” Ghast insisted.
“I refuse to take more risks in this delicate matter,” Van simply said in response. He held the man’s stare and could almost hear the internal conflict raging behind those dark eyes.
Ghast revealed no hint of emotion negative or positive as he nodded.
Van crossed his arms and some pathetic, cowardly part of him hated the path. Hated everything he’d been forced to do and the careful planning that had been in the works even before Odessa’s disappearance. Her kidnapping had altered them slightly, but the end goal remained the same.
I’ll find you by any means necessary.
And Van meant it, too. A slight nod to Ghast concluded their meeting, and the wolf disappeared out the front door with a whisper of a grin as a farewell, lips bared in feral delight.
The fact that the twins had even agreed to help...it spoke to something. Some underlying dynamic of the Taunway Lake pack that Van hadn’t seen before. If it was instability or unrest, he might have judged it for himself during the last few weeks of his stay here. But he didn’t think it was any of those things.
Maybe, odd and strange as it was, Nova and Ghast simply wanted to make sure their lost Princess was returned, because the world wasn’t the same without her.
VAN HAD BETRAYED THEM. He was working with the alpha, with his double-trouble goons, despite cautioning Calen on the need for secrecy.
His hands fisted at his sides as the blood drained from his face.
Darkness flickered on the edges of his vision. It was a sign of his temper, a temper that, once released, would rage until it burned the world to its end.
Whatever Van planned, he had a lot of damn nerve to gallivant around pretending innocence.
He whirled around to give both of them a piece of his mind, regardless of what might happen, and met solid resistance.
“Hey.” Calen slammed his palm against the barrier and although he saw nothing, he felt it there. Invisible, no movement around the hardened air. Van’s doing, knowing that Calen did not have enough of his own power to push through or break the enchantment.
Van had known, Calen thought again, and had convinced him to come here, to this place—
He’d been locked out.
He cracked his hand against the shield again and again. “Come on out, you assholes!” he called.
Barely able to hear anything above the roar in his ears, his frustration at being locked out of a house it had taken everything to see again, encompassed all logical thought.
Sealed out of his own house.
He hurtled around the side of the cabin for the nearest window and tried to push against it, his fingers shoving against that hardened air.
Trapped outside.
He backed away and stopped seeing the cabin, the trees and the glittering starlight overhead. He stopped hearing the crickets and their music or the sighing of the night wind around him.
Staring through the window, he could hardly see inside through the dust and debris. Could barely see where the two men stood talking.
Betrayed.
A crushing blackness rose up from the void inside of him, ready to roar. It was all he could do to keep from indulging in shattering that glass into ten-thousand pieces.
All this time and effort spent on an alliance, and for what? For a visit to a court of nightmares where a monster reigned? For him to be reminded of his losses repeatedly and then kept out of his own house? It had been different when he’d chosen to stay away, when Alex told him—ordered him—to keep to the kitchens for his own good.
For some reason, this time, the choice felt like it had been taken away from him. He had to get back in that house and hear what Van and Ghast said.
If he could shift, if he could harness that raw power of the Lycan inside of him, who he was supposed to be, then he had a better chance of ripping through the enchantment and freeing himself.
Calen fumbled for the power inside of him, for anything that might show him how to change his form. There was nothing. Nothing, just as he was, just as everyone thought him to be.
Someone was calling to him from far away in a voice he could not understand. But there were too many emotions that had been pushed aside for too long. Would he ever be free of them? He’d spent his life ensconced in a cocoon of guilt and helplessness. One of his own making, surely, but as forceful as any storm.
Trapped.
Through the darkness inside of him, a kernel grew from nothing. A sensation of peace an
d tranquility that felt entirely foreign. Strong, soft waves of pure sensation that wrapped around him from the inside out, telling him that everything was fine. To be still.
He didn’t have the strength to fight back against them. And honestly, he didn’t want to.
They were alien and familiar at the same time. As though someone had electrified a pathway inside his mind that had always been there, waiting.
You’re okay.
The words shimmered in his mind for a brief moment before disappearing, the sensation so strong he physically moved back a step, raising a hand to his ear.
What the hell was going on?
He didn’t have the knowledge to put into words the comfort, the safety of that connection, no matter how odd it felt. Velvety darkness flowed through him, seductive and soft, echoing up from a well of power, an abyss inside of him so great that it had no end.
Hello?
He sent the word out into the abyss and wondered if he would get a response.
A faint sense of laughter echoed back to him. Through that sound, the flash of a smile, he knew in an instant who had sent him the comfort.
Odessa.
But how...
Calen knocked back against the air keeping the cabin contained. Then knocked his knees on the ground when he went down.
Neither of them had exhibited any kind of telepathic connection before. At least, not with each other. Odessa had the connections all the Lycans of their tribe shared, but as one who could not shift, Calen’s mind remained silent. Until today.
Then it was gone. He stood and staggered away from the cabin walls, trying to spool himself back into his body and guard the borders of his mind.
Phantom arms came around his shoulders and held him, carried him out of the darkness, and finally, Calen could draw breath. He could see the open door to the cabin. Van walked out without Ghast, his mouth open.
