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

by J. K. Jones

  “Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter 36

  Silvercrest Howlers

  Hiratsuka, 17’

  Four years ago…

  Micah McCorbyn

  The air stills around them. Micah steps forward, his body tense—watching, waiting. Fuck. Where is he? Nothing. Just the cold water of the Icy Lake. Air bubbles cover the surface. A few waves rise before the water calms down. He looks up, eyes glowing yellow as currents of rage ripple through him. The pack shrinks back. His fury is enormous and overwhelming.

  Three. He looks at Randolph’s eyes widening in terror.

  Two. Ryu should’ve broken the surface by now.

  One. No time to think.

  Micah plunges into the lake, his body crushing the thick ice shards. It’s like being stabbed all at once, the undercurrents are quick to toss and drag him under, but he fights them. The water is freezing, Micah’s legs lock and seize up in agony. It takes several moments before he spots him. Ryu’s body sinks, the chain around his arms and waist constricting his movements. Micah grabs him, severs the chains with superhuman strength, and hauls his body up. He breaks the surface, gasping, struggling to hold Ryu’s limp body. Micah swims with all his might, keeping Ryu close to his chest, praying to the gods that they make it to shore. His heart hammers in his chest, his legs feel like anvils, and his teeth are chattering.

  He lays Ryu on the snowbank and pulls himself out with the help of several wolves. Randolph races over to him and throws a thick blanket over his shoulder. Micah shoves it off. Instead, he hugs Ryu’s lifeless body close to him.

  He isn’t breathing.

  He isn’t fucking breathing. Micah wants to scream at the other wolves.

  “Is he…”

  “Get out of the way,” Micah barks. He can’t control himself right now. His emotions are wild, raging. Micah pinches Ryu’s nose, covers his mouth, and breathes air back in. He does chest compressions, making sure to do thirty seconds at a time. He can’t take it. Did he kill his mate? God, no. Ryu’s body is too cold, his smooth skin ghostly white in the cloudy morning light. Excruciating pain twists like a butcher’s knife in his chest. He did this.

  Breathe. Fucking breathe.

  Ryu coughs violently, spitting up water and bile. Micah forces him onto his side, keeping his body close so that he can dispel all the water out of his lungs. They’re both shaking. The cold burrows deep into his bones. Micah hugs him tightly, his heart nearly splitting in two.

  -

  Micah prowls the tent like a mad man, snarling at anyone who dares to enter. Four hours after the incident at the Icy Lake and Ryu hasn’t woken up yet. His body temperature is dangerously low.

  Micah keeps him in his tent, surrounded by fur blankets dosed in his scent. His mate. He’s failed him completely. The council wants to take him, but Micah would rather die than give him up again. Ryu looks like an angel, swaddled in dark brown fur and sleeping peacefully. There’s no way out, but there might a way through. Micah must do so alone: an endless journey crawling on bleeding knees, trudging through jagged terrains.

  He can’t think straight. Sorrow and anguish consume his thoughts. If he hadn’t acted, Ryu would’ve been dead. He disobeyed his father and the council. He’ll need to move quickly, hide Ryu somewhere safe, and face his punishment.

  The entrance flap of the tent flies opens, and Randolph storms in, looking furious. “What the hell did you do?”

  Micah ignores the question. He crouches beside Ryu and drags off the fur blankets. The blue veins in Ryu’s arms and face are potent, while his skin looks more and more like chalk. Micah thumbs the chain around his neck. His heart clenches as he recalls the day he gave it to him. They need to act fast. “Did you bring it?”

  Randolph jerks his head. Wolves come in, carrying a small bathtub with warm water. They carefully put Ryu in the bathtub.

  “Strip.” Randolph scowls. “He needs more body heat.”

  Micah takes off his clothes, gets in the tub behind Ryu, and hugs him closely. His skin is like ice.

  “Are you going to tell me what the hell just happened?”

  Micah stares at him. “You know what happened.”

  “Why didn’t you stick to the plan? My god. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

  “Exactly what I should have.”

  Chapter 37

  Randolph bares his teeth. “You’ve killed him. I told you to be strong. I told you to wait. We would’ve gotten him out of the lake. You should’ve let me handle it. Now you’ve compromised yourself and your position in the pack.”

  “Watch it.” Micah’s eyes flash yellow. “I won’t take any form of disrespect, Randolph.”

  “Will you listen to reason?” Randolph begs. “They’ll hunt him down now to the ends of the earth now that they know he has your favor and that he always will. We had a plan.”

  Fuck.

  Micah knows that. He devised the plan himself. Show the pack his disregard for Ryu, keep him at arm’s length, and once the situation blows over, bring him back. Yet Micah couldn’t watch him drown. Randolph was taking too long. If they had waited, Ryu would’ve been dead. So he acted. Now the pack knows his initial disregard for Ryu and the punishment itself is complete bullshit. Micah went back on his word in front of everyone. Randolph is right. His position as Alpha is now compromised. The council can deem him unfit to rule, thus taking it upon themselves to punish Ryu. He can’t allow that to happen.

  “We don’t have much time.” Randolph glances outside the tent. “The council is gunning for his head now. I know a place—a cabin nearby—I can hide him away until you can get there.”

  There’s no greater pain than this. Micah doesn’t respond right away. He looks down at Ryu’s serene face, his black hair floating in the water. He’s never wanted anyone else. Micah kisses his temple, gripping his body like it’s his only lifeline. Wait for me. I’m coming.

  “Make the arrangements. He’ll need to leave within the hour.”

  “I don’t agree with this,” Randolph says. “If we hide him away and they find him, they’ll surely kill him.”

  “I know.”

  They don’t have time. Micah has to get him to the safe house as soon as possible. The only problem is that they are too far away. The plan is to get Ryu somewhere safe. Afterward, Micah can meet up with him to discuss their next moves. As an exile, Ryu can’t be seen around the pack. However, Micah plans to have him come back. Once the dust settles and the war with the Filthy Claws is over, Micah will have Ryu return as his mate. Before the trial, he had Randolph purchase a small house in the Filthy Claws inner cities, where Ryu could live peacefully, and Micah could visit. It would be temporary, of course, just until he was able to soothe things over with the council.

  “Too many things can go wrong. We don’t have the resources if they attack us on the road.”

  “Then move.” Micah’s temper flares. He needs to go to the council and fucking beg them not to exact retribution. That should give them at least a head start.

  “Alpha.” Randolph bows and leaves the room, arranging for transportation to take Ryu to the cabin in the woods.

  Micah remains in the tub, stroking Ryu’s jaw and the small wrinkles around his mouth.

  Some color finally comes back to Ryu’s face, and Micah gets out of the tub, dresses Ryu in some of his clothing, and lays him down gently onto the bed. Silver glints in his peripherals. Micah pauses, stroking the necklace around Ryu’s neck fondly. He never meant for this to happen. Micah prepares to face the council. He puts on a black shirt and camo pants.

  Randolph comes back just in time.

  “Is everything ready?” Micah asks, bundling up Ryu so he’s ready to be transported. “When Ryu wakes up, make sure he knows I’m coming for him.”

  “Of course, Alpha.” Randolph bows deeply.

  “If there’s any trouble, notify me immediately,” Micah commands. “I’m trusting you with this, Randolph. Don’t disappoint me.”

 
“This is wrong. They’ll find him and kill him,” Randolph replies heatedly.

  “We don’t know that.”

  “We do.” Randolph looks down at Ryu. “He’s better off on his own. You shouldn’t try to find him or look for him. Ryu is strong. He can handle it.”

  “And leave him to die?” Micah barks. “You’ve made your opinions about our relationship very clear from the beginning. I won’t allow my mate to suffer alone.”

  “Since he’s met you, he’s been in nothing but trouble,” Randolph snaps. “Yes, he disobeyed you, and yes, he should be punished, but he’s better off without you.”

  “Watch your words.”

  Randolph’s going too far. Micah knows how his relationship looks to others. He left Ryu, abandoned him to the whims of the pack, but that was only to keep him safe. The aggression between the two clans is reaching a breaking point. He can’t risk the chance of any wolves from the Silvercrest Howlers taking it out on Ryu.

  “Forgive me, Alpha,” Randolph replies tiredly. “Ryu is…precious to me. He’s my friend, and I wouldn’t want to see him killed for nothing.”

  “We will act quickly. Await my command.”

  “Alpha.” Randolph signals the other wolves to lift Ryu. They walk out of the tent, taking Micah’s heart and soul with him.

  Chapter 38

  Micah tears out of the tent. Trmon and Deryn are lounging nearby and jump up. Micah strides through the encampment. The ground trembles as he storms his way through. Other wolves stare, their cold and vicious eyes follow every step. He’s betrayed them all.

  He rips through the main tent, plowing through the throng of councilmen that scurry out of his way.

  Micah stops at the makeshift throne. His father’s face is battered and worn from the war with the Filthy Claws. Michael McCorbyn sits hunched over, clutching his waist as if he’s in immense pain.

  Micah remembers decorum, and he kneels in front of his father, his wet hair falling into his eyes. He knows how he looks: frantic and scared, all the things an Alpha should never be. Yet what choice did he have? Any wolf trying to save their Omega would’ve felt the same.

  “Micah,” Michael says tiredly.

  “I’m here to accept my punishment.”

  The room goes eerily quiet. To punish the Alpha of the clan is considered the deepest shame. To them, the Alpha is above reproach, blessed by the gods. The Silvercrest Howlers will do everything in their power to keep that image standing. If word gets around that their Alpha did something wrong, then his reputation and everything he stands for will be called into question.

  “Alpha.” A councilman steps forward. “We know your heart. The heart of a True Alpha is without fault. We simply request to have the traitorous bastard Ryu Suzuki atone for his crimes against the Silvercrest Howlers. Or you can simply hand him over to us, and we will deem his punishment.”

  Micah clenches his jaw.

  He knows what they want: Ryu dead and the Filthy Claws slaughter. Since none of those things will be happening, they’ve resorted to other means. He must not lose his composure; they’re waiting for him to mess up just so that they can shift the blame onto Ryu.

  “We can’t allow this to continue. Ryu Suzuki is responsible for the loss of thousands of wolves, my son included,” another councilman says. “This is an insult to the clan.”

  “My brother died. What about him, Alpha?”

  “What am I to tell my wife?”

  “What am I to tell my daughters?”

  Their cries break his heart. Most of the wolves he knows personally; he’s fought alongside them for years. They want the person responsible to pay for what happened. Ryu should’ve never gone to speak to Kenyon. If he hadn’t disobeyed him, none of this would’ve happened. They should be planning their wedding. Instead, he’s fighting a war against the Filthy Claws insurgents while trying to appease his clan and stop them from killing his mate in the process. Fuck.

  He’s kept his feelings a secret for years. He never let Ryu know the extent of his love or devotion. He hid it, buried under neutrality and faux calmness. Now it’s all threatening to come through. How can he save one without killing the other? If he sides with Ryu, the clan will hate him, and if he chooses the clan, Ryu will never forgive him.

  “Alpha.” Another man steps forward. “The Filthy Claws are mobilizing. Our spies say they’re planning to attack from the east. With our numbers severely diminished, we won’t have the strength to defeat them.”

  “If it weren’t for that slut, we wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “How can we defeat them with our numbers too few?”

  Micah’s head pounds. Their words hit him all at once. How can he meet Ryu now? With another attack on the horizon and the pack at risk, how can he get away to make sure Ryu is safe?

  Damn it.

  He can’t think. Not with their constant, insistent chatter. Ryu could be dying or dead already. He could’ve been attacked by bandits on the road, or Randolph could have gotten lost. Anything could happen. Micah breathes slowly, his anger from before rising with each passing breath. Fuck. The ground shakes, and the lights flicker. How can he save him? Micah trembles, and every wolf in the room shrinks back. He stuffs his emotions down violently.

  “Leave us.”

  Michael’s voice breaks through the torrents of thoughts. Micah holds on to it like an anchor during a storm. The wolves look at him, then bow and leave the room.

  He sighs deeply and shakes his head. It’s not what he thinks. Micah tried. He did everything he could to make sure each side was satisfied. He betrayed Ryu—kept him a secret, humiliated him—made him think he was just using him for sex, and at last deserted him. If he hadn’t, Ryu would’ve been dead or worse.

  “Father.” Disappointment. He can see it all over his face.

  “You’ve disrupted the chain of events,” Michael says. “Since Ryu didn’t fulfill his public punishment, they’ll request that he be punished again.”

  “I know.”

  Michael regards him. “The Filthy Claws are planning an attack from the east. Their powers are nurtured by the fury about the death of the rebel leader, Kenyon. The pack is growing restless. Half our army has been decimated. I’ve done everything possible to make sure Ryu’s punishment would be dealt with. Did you think I would proudly proclaim him as your mate and kill him a few weeks later? We had it under control.”

  He knows his father needs to ensure the clan knows the severity of Ryu’s transgressions, or else each wolf will be inclined to administer their own punishments.

  “The alliance between the Silvercrest Howlers and the Filthy Claws must remain. The Filthy Claws will recognize one of their own, they’ll rally behind him, and it will put an end to the wars. Many wolves on the council are separatists, and they’ll go through any lengths to ascertain that you and Ryu remain apart.”

  Micah’s eyes widen. That means they’re being watched—everywhere. The council will have their spies follow him. “What are you saying?”

  Michael wrenches and coughs violently in his hand, spitting out blood. Micah gets up quickly, calling a servant to help his father. “Dad, what’s going on?”

  “We don’t have much time. I heard a small platoon of Silvercrest Howlers left shortly after Randolph did.” Michael grips his arm. “Go. Bring Ryu back. Your marriage will bring peace to the clans. Be back before the rebels strike again. You are the Alpha. The men will look to you for guidance. Focus. Always remember. Your word, their will. The pack will bend to your command.”

  Wait for me. I’m coming.

  Chapter 39

  His thoughts are frenzied. Micah hurries through the encampment to his tent. The second he steps inside, he shoves a few belongings into a backpack. If they leave now, they can reach the cabin within a few days. Micah will have to make it there and back before the Filthy Claws start another war. Micah’s hands tremble. He needs to move quickly and get there before any harm comes to Ryu.

  And his dad. Pictures
of Michael’s face as blood erupts from his mouth pops into his head. The wound on his stomach happened after a Lycan attacked him. Shit. What if he’s severely injured? Micah can’t think about that right now. He needs to finds his mate.

  Everything is falling apart. The world is caving in.

  Trmon and Deryn enter the tent, both of them looking puzzled. “What’s going on?”

  “Stay here.” Micah stuffs his bag with food. “Be my eyes and ears until I get back.”

  “Where are you going?” Deryn asks, frowning deeply.

  “Ryu needs me. I need to bring him back.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Deryn scoffs loudly. “Are you going to go after him? After everything he’s done? Markus nearly died because of him.”

  “Deryn,” Trmon admonishes.

  “I’m serious,” Deryn continues. “Alpha, brother, don’t tell me you actually care for the brat? He’s a good fuck at best and at worst—”

  Micah explodes.

  The fury is like a fire seed, burning like hot coal down his throat. Goddamn him. The rage sparks, quick and strident, inflaming him. A tsunami of dark and anger pulsates through him. The world spins, his vision blurs, and all he can see is his mate dying on the snowbank and people like Deryn laughing.

  Micah grabs him and slams him against the wall of the tent. Deryn gasps as Micah’s massive hand clamps around his throat. His eyes flash, and he bares his teeth, snarling viciously at him. Deryn claws at his hands, his body flailing as he strains to get air into his lungs.

  Micah wants to crush him, bash his head into the wall until it’s a bloody mess. Deryn screams, his body trembling against the weight of Micah’s wrath.

  Trmon is on his knees, clutching his ears and shaking badly. Focus. He can’t. Not with everything going on. His father, his mate, his mother, all gone. Micah is all alone now, with the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.

  “Micah.”

  He pulls back, stuffing his rabid emotions down. That was too close. He steps away and grabs his belongings. He looks at his friends, wondering why he even calls them that to begin with. They don’t know him. At least not in the way Ryu did.