The Filthy Claws: Out for Blood (Exiled Book 2)

by J. K. Jones

  Yet his eyes are drawn to Ryu like a magnet. No one can know he harbors these feelings. Micah feels like he is betraying everyone—his mother, his father, his clan. For what? He doesn’t understand any of it.

  He wants to be next to him. That isn’t a crime, right? Ryu curls within himself, shaking and crying, while the other boys kick and hit at everything they can reach, and something inside him snaps.

  “Stop.”

  The deep timbre of the Alpha command makes everyone halt. They freeze in terror as Micah steps forward, glaring at them. Ryu coughs up blood. He fights to breathe, sobbing loudly into the cold hard ground.

  Micah crouches beside him, his hands touching his forehead.

  Ryu looks up. Big gray eyes bore into his.

  “Come,” Micah says gently, picking up his frail body and carrying him to the medic.

  -

  The wolves bow in greeting, then continue with their duties. A part of him yearns to check on Ryu to see if his injuries have healed. He grits his teeth. Alhazred is ruthless toward an Omega. It’s startling and disturbing to think a Silvercrest Howler can be brought up that way. He rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks. Amaya is kneeling in front of Alhazred, fixing his robes and gently chiding him.

  He stares down at his feet, lower lip trembling.

  “Tell me this instant,” Amaya hisses, her face drawn in anger. “His clothes didn’t just disappear. I bought them brand new.”

  “He lost them,” Alhazred says back. “I don’t know where he put his shitty stuff.”

  Amaya grabs his chin. “Don’t you dare speak those words to me. If your father were here—”

  “He would be sickened to his core,” Alhazred snaps. “You care for a Filthy Claw like he’s one of us. He isn’t one of us. I’ll never accept him as one of us. He’s not my brother. My brother is dead dead dead—”

  Amaya smacks him across the face.

  The sound rings in the courtyard. It’s no secret Amaya has suffered many losses. It’s a miracle she gave birth to Listeria and Alhazred. Micah recalls the funeral for her last child, a small Omega boy who passed away in his sleep. He knows why she’s drawn to Ryu. Her urge to love and protect him is similar to his own.

  “If I hear you’ve been hurting him again, I’ll disown you.” Amaya stands, brushing dirt off her clothing.

  Alhazred stands there, tears streaming down his face. Then he clenches his jaw and strides away.

  -

  They aren’t friends.

  That’s what he tells himself. When Sensei Musashi comes to him that evening to tell him he’s going to expel Ryu, something like coal settles within his body. However, it’s not unusual to have wolves removed from the regiment. If they can’t keep up, for example. They can’t afford any weak points. It’s happened half a dozen times. Sensei Musashi usually lets him know as a courtesy, which Micah acknowledges, but never comments on. However, things are different now. For the first time, he asks to come along. Sensei Musashi looks surprised, but he says nothing as Micah follows Sensei Musashi numbly. It’s his duty after all. To be removed from the regiment is considered shameful. The wolf will be ridiculed and ostracized for the rest of its life.

  Can he do that to Ryu?

  Micah swallows thickly.

  Ryu answers the door. He looks frail and battered, his eye black and his lip split, but hopefulness glimmers in his expression as if there may still be a chance he can succeed. Micah doesn’t want to take that away from him. He can’t. To see the light fade from his eyes and to know he’s the one responsible would devastate him.

  Ryu bows to both of them, then steps aside so that they can come in.

  Sensei Musashi circles the room, eyes roaming everywhere before they land back on Ryu. “You can’t beat them,” he says slowly. “I’ve been watching you. They are too strong, and you’re too weak. I can’t train a soldier who’s weak in body and spirit. No Omega could ever keep up with an Alpha…especially one coming from such an inferior background as the Filthy Claws…” He goes quiet for a moment. “You’ll need to betray your clan. Will you do it? When the test comes, can you fight against them and stand with us? I don’t think so. You don’t have what it takes…I’m sorry, Ryu.”

  Micah watches the clouds part and his gray eyes fill with tears. Ryu falls to his feet, prostrating himself, pressing his forehead to the floor. “Please. I am…I can keep up.”

  “You haven’t passed a single class. I have no choice. I’ll need to send you home.”

  Micah clenches his fists, heart racing because he can’t stand it. Not again. The scent of distress fills the room, potent and excruciating. He can’t. He won’t, but—

  “I will train him.”

  Ryu’s breath hitches.

  Sensei Musashi turns to him. “It’s not suitable. You are the next Alpha of the Silvercrest Howlers. To be associated with an Omega—”

  “I will train him.”

  Micah’s voice is steely, rippling with stubborn determination. Sensei Musashi looks at him oddly, knowingly almost, as if he expected this to be the outcome.

  Sensei Musashi scratches his head. “I see.” Then he turns pensively. “That’s why you asked to come along?” He chuckles to himself. “Very well. One month. If there’s no improvement, I’ll have to send you home, Ryu.”

  Ryu keeps his head bowed as Sensei Musashi leaves the room.

  “Rise,” Micah says, his voice smooth and soft.

  They sit on the bed. He can tell Ryu is shy and uneasy around him, but Micah finds it endearing. The strong urge to protect and shelter him is overwhelming. Micah has seen hundreds of Omegas, and none of them has made him feel anything close to what he feels right now. The candy he stole earlier burns in his pocket. He knows the significance of giving Omega’s gifts, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

  “Here.” Micah reaches into his pocket and takes out a small piece of candy.

  Ryu observes it with large eyes, then takes it. “Thank you. I thought we couldn’t have candy.”

  Micah smiles ruefully. “We can’t. I stole it.”

  Sometimes he does as a way to rebel or prove to himself that he isn’t the perfect, pristine Alpha they make him out to be.

  A beat. “From Sensei Musashi.”

  Ryu bursts out laughing, and for the first time in weeks, Micah smiles.

  Chapter 31

  They meet in the training room. Always under the strict supervision of Sensei Musashi, who occasionally chimes in when he sees Micah struggling, or offers tips on how they can both better their forms. Micah strategically scents Ryu. Whether they’re sparring or just having fun, he makes it a point to touch him or rub his clothing frequently. That way people in class know not to mess with him.

  Trmon finds him alone one day, sitting in his favorite spot under the cherry blossoms. He sits down. Micah enjoys the easy friendship they share. Trmon isn’t hot-headed like Deryn. He doesn’t spew relentless insults to get his point across. He is calm, collective, often the voice of reason, and Micah’s most trusted friend.

  “You seem happier,” Trmon says after a while. “Free almost.”

  Micah smiles softly but says nothing.

  “Ryu has grown exceptionally talented. I often see him training harder than ever before.”

  “He’s good.” Micah hopes that will kill the conversation.

  “His scent is also different… less Omega and more Alpha,” Trmon says.

  Micah freezes, and his heart lurches as he stares at his friend like he’s been caught, like Trmon is implying something dangerous and sinister. They are friends. He’s just helping Ryu train. That’s all. So what if he looks at him and can’t stop? It doesn’t matter. Micah will always do his duty.

  “A lot of wolves don’t want him here,” Trmon presses on. “They think him being here will bring the rest of them bad luck. The gods have always made omegas weaker. To have a strong Omega seems unnatural.”

  Micah is quiet for a long time. “What are you trying to s
ay, Trmon?”

  “That your friendship with Ryu can only go so far. He’s younger. I see the way you look at him. I know your heart. You will give it freely.”

  “And why can’t I?” Micah asks. And all of a sudden, he’s angry, furious even. Why do they control who he spends his time with? Who he can be around? It’s not fair.

  “Look.” Trmon turns to him. “Some of the boys…they’re talking about hurting him.” He flushes and looks away. “Alhazred wants to lure Ryu into the forest so that they can…show him what a real Alpha is like. If they know you favor him, things will get worse. You should keep your distance but make it clear he’s under your protection.”

  It’s not unheard of.

  Micah knows several Omegas that have been…violated. Ryu is too good, too precious to have something so horrendous happen to him. Micah won’t allow it.

  Yet Ryu isn’t one of us. Micah turns away, clenching his jaw tightly. He’ll never be one of us. Can he stand the ridicule of the pack? The wrath of his father and council when he tells them he’s friends with a Filthy Claw? A member of the clan they’re waging war against.

  He’ll need to placate the clan, show them he’s impartial, but he won’t tolerate violence against other wolves in his regiment. That way, Ryu can remain at his side as his friend, and he can keep the peace.

  Nobody can know otherwise.

  -

  It's late in the night when Micah knocks on his door. Ryu opens it and gasps when he sees Micah standing there. He shouldn’t be here, especially alone with an Omega, but he urgently needs to speak to Ryu.

  Earlier today, he did it, made the announcement that caused all the wolves to bristle in anger. Anyone who harms Ryu or any Filthy Claw in his regiment will be punished, stripped of their rank, and exiled. The Alpha command made them all still, their bodies locked as the words washed over them. It’s a severe punishment. Not even his father would make such a bold claim. However, Micah knew he had to be clear and firm in his decision. If he didn’t say anything now, they would take it upon themselves to teach Ryu a lesson.

  It should help for the time being. However, the wolves can’t see him as impartial. If they know of his feelings or affections, all bets will be off, and Micah can’t handle that right now.

  Things are getting worse. The hatred against the Filthy Claws has grown to insurmountable levels... Micah is trying to get ahead of it, but with the war brewing, the pack grows more restless each passing day. Michael’s campaign to integrate the clans, building a pack of inclusion, isn’t going well either. Both sides are resisting the merger. The Filthy Claw rebels claim they don’t want their help, and the Silvercrest Howlers are inclined to agree. His father presses upon them both. The Silvercrest Howlers have invested a lot of resources in the Filthy Claws clan to keep the clan from the brink of starvation. Yet both clans would rather be separated.

  It’s a mess.

  Micah stands there looking lost, frightened almost, then he beckons Ryu to follow him outside. They walk for several miles to a small forest outside of the training grounds that they primarily use to shift and run drills in their wolf forms.

  Micah stops, keeping his back toward Ryu. Where does he start? I like being friends with you, but I can’t be seen with you. What a vile thing to say. This whole thing is so stupid and confusing. Why is he even willing to fight his pack over Ryu? Why does he even care? A part of him wishes that they never met. Ryu reminds him too much of her, and she’s gone. She’s never coming back.

  It’s stupid to get wrapped up in this. He should just leave Ryu alone and be done with it. Keep him safe from afar, admire him from afar, and let that be the end.

  “Do you know how she died?” Micah says coldly, his temper flaring. He imagines her light, her endless beauty that was taken away from him. He should hate all the Filthy Claws, and he does—except one. The one that’s looking at him now with large doe eyes and a frightful expression.

  “They cut off her head and gave it back to us.” Micah clenches his fists tightly. At age fourteen, he was incredibly tall, lanky, and slowly gaining muscle. “Now my father wants to help them. The Filthy Claws. He wants them to succeed.” Micah grits his teeth. “I hate them. I hate them all.”

  Hurt flashes in Ryu’s eyes, and Micah wants to take his words back. Damn. Why is this so hard? Why does he always want to be around Ryu? Why does he even care what he thinks?

  “Yet I…we are friends. It’s confusing sometimes. I don’t like it.” He doesn’t. Ryu’s scent is distracting. His flawless features torment him daily. Why can’t he be rid of these emotions and feelings?

  “Micah, I don’t understand.” Ruy’s voice is small, weak.

  “You can’t tell anyone we met.” Micah turns to him. “You can’t tell anyone. Nobody can know I talk to you.”

  “Okay, of course, Alpha.”

  Micah clenches his jaw. “Don’t call me that.” It sounds so informal, cold, as if they are strangers. Micah hates it already.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense. I’m thankful for everything you’ve done. I won’t let you down. If you wish to cut ties, I’ll be grateful—”

  “I do not wish to cut ties,” Micah spits angrily. “They killed my mother. I hate them for that. I should’ve hated you for that…the Filthy Claws, they are the reason she’s dead.” Micah seethes, then finally calms down. He doesn’t want to take it out on Ryu. He isn’t the one who killed his mother. He doesn’t deserve this.

  “I don’t hate you,” Micah says. “I just…nobody can know, okay?”

  “Sure.” Ryu nods frantically. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  “Good,” Micah says, then offers a small smile. “Shift with me?”

  Chapter 32

  The Filthy Claws

  Fujisawa, ‘21

  Present day…

  The tangerine glow of morning light shines through the curtains. Ryu wakes slowly, as if he slept on the beach, with the waves slowly caressing his cheek. For a moment, he imagines himself at sea, with the rhythmic ocean rocking him to sleep. The dreams that plague him have ceased. However, Ryu chills, thinking about the demonic swirl of Arima Kihei’s glowing eyes or his fangs wrenching open dead flesh. Fuck, when will it end? These images often come in montages, where it’s almost like he can feel what the other is doing. Luckily, last night, his dreams remained clear and empty.

  He blinks rapidly, listening to the low hum of the soldiers speaking in the hallway. For the first time in weeks, he feels relaxed. His mind is at ease in ways that soothe his nerves.

  Ryu touches the bed. The material is warm and plush beneath his fingers.

  Micah.

  He looks up. Micah sits at his desk, thumbing through documents. Ryu takes in how his face looks awash with sunlight; it brings out the color in his skin and the beauty behind his black eyes. Ryu’s heartthrobs. He smiles softly as he sits up in bed.

  “Good morning,” Micah says, his eyes still glued to his paperwork. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” Ryu stretches and then runs a hand through his hair.

  Micah goes to the kitchenette, grabs a white mug, and pours coffee into it. He gives Ryu a light kiss and hands him the steaming cup.

  “You were out late.” Micah sits down at the side of the bed.

  “Mhmm.” Ryu hums and takes a sip. “I spoke to Marissa.”

  “I heard. And?”

  Ryu relays their conversation, going into detail about the legend of the Bloodhound Prince, up to everything he’s learned since then.

  “You think she’ll fight with us?”

  Ryu nods. “I think she wants this over with as soon as possible. Keep in mind that the Filthy Claws are the ones left without protection.”

  “We’ll do everything we can to make sure there aren’t any more casualties,” Micah replies. “If she gathers the rebels, that would give us a fighting chance against the Bloodhound Prince.”

  “And Randolph?”

  Micah sighs. “We haven’t gotten
that far yet. He isn’t keeping anyone hostage there. From what my spies told me, Randolph and Zy have declared themselves Alphas and are now running the Silvercrest Howlers.”

  “Zy? His son?”

  “Yes. Randolph will need a successor. Since Francesca is with child, the Midnight Stalkers will be reluctant to storm the clan. Shamus has expressed his concern for his sister. Which is completely understandable.”

  “Treasonous fucks,” Ryu grunts, taking another sip. “We need to figure out a way to lure them out.”

  Micah stares at him. “What are you thinking?”

  Ryu goes quiet, going over the scenarios in his head. “The Bloodhound Prince said he wanted me. He never went into the reason why. He just kept saying I had something he wants. It could be my power or the fact that I’m another Bloodhound. But all we know is that he’ll come for me eventually. This whole ploy could be just to trap me.”

  “You’re right. If you’re his primary goal, then he’s using us as chess pieces.” Micah sighs. “But how do we get him to come out?”

  “Pass me that map,”

  Micah gets up from the bed and grabs the map off the table. They look at it together, noticing the ridged landscape between all five clans. The Silvercrest Howlers have more open fields—most of their land is used for agriculture—while the Filthy Claws clan live in dense areas with several mountains. Geographical warfare may be critical in this situation. The flatlands of the Silvercrest Howlers and the jagged terrain of the Filthy Claws clan may give them the advantage over the enemy and greatly influence the outcome of an attack.