by J. K. Jones
Deryn wheezes loudly. His neck has an ugly purple bruise around it. Trmon looks horrified. His ears and nose bleed as he stares at Micah.
They’re afraid of him.
Good. They should be.
-
Snowflakes melt on his skin.
Micah trudges onward through the cold terrain that is frigid, long, and Alaskan. Wolves normally run hotter this time of year to adjust to the temperature changes. He didn’t bring anything unnecessary. He’ll need to shift into wolf form soon to make it to the cabin in time.
He reaches out to Randolph through their link, gently probing for his location. Randolph lets him know exactly where they are. Micah keeps his eyes forward. He’s now entering enemy territory. Although the Filthy Claws inhabit most of these lands, they can’t keep the Blackfang Hounds off their borders. Since the Filthy Claws don’t have an army or any judicial or governmental structure, it’s easy for the Blackfang Hounds to inch their way onto their lands.
After several hours, Micah rests on a tree stump and shifts into wolf form. He scents several trees, making his presence known so that other wolves will steer clear of him. He sprints through the forest, his heart beating evenly as he follows Randolph’s instructions to reach the cabin. He’s running out of time.
Ryu. He must find him.
His massive wolf moves stealthily, ignoring the blasts of freezing wind, falling icicles, and wayward branches. Fear suffocates him, like a pillow is held over his mouth. Fuck. He needs to get to the cabin before the platoon does.
Micah dashes through the forest, plowing through the snowbanks. He should be there by now. Where the hell is this place?
He comes to a stop, his breath caught in his throat as five wolves emerge from the treeline.
Stand down. They don’t even flinch but creep toward him, snarling viciously. They foam at the mouth, and their eyes look like several blood vessels have burst. Large chunks of their matted fur are missing, and their necks and bellies are marred with claw wounds. These wolves have been severely injured.
They don’t look like Silvercrest Howlers, but they must be.
What the hell is going on? The wolves don’t respond to his command. It seems they have no thoughts of their own. They remind him eerily of the Lycans, but they’re all dead. Micah takes on an aggressive stand, bringing himself to his full height so he’s towering over them.
He doesn’t want to hurt them. The wolves growl, their lips pulling back over razor-sharp teeth. What are they doing out here? Are they the same ones his father said are after Ryu?
No time to think. A wolf barrels into him, sending them both toppling over and flying into a tree trunk.
Chapter 40
Micah twists and clamps his jaws onto the back of the wolf’s neck, subduing him. The wolf thrusts wildly, trying to throw him off. Micah locks his jaw, using his teeth to keep the wolf in place.
Another wolf jumps at him, but Micah ducks just in time. They claw at him, their talons sharp as knives, as they both dig into his skin. He tears at the wolf’s neck, then throws him several feet in the air. The other wolf pounces and sinks its teeth into his hind leg.
Goddamn it. Micah snarls, slashing his claws against the wolf’s face. He cuts across his snout and eyes. Blood spews from the wounds as the wolf howls in agony and stumbles away.
Two more jump onto his back. Micah twists and turns wildly, trying to throw them off, but they pin him against a tree.
These wolves are deranged. He doesn’t have time for this.
Micah’s eyes flash yellow, and power surges within him. His muscles bulge and tighten as he springs forward, knocking one wolf into a tree trunk, effectively shattering its ribcage.
The other wolves continue their attack, biting and scratching at everything they can reach. Micah moves expertly, trying to disable the wolves without hurting them.
Micah darts left, but one wolf leaps onto his back, drills its teeth into his nape, and fucking pulls. The other wolf strikes at his front, gunning for his neck, but Micah jerks his head away just in time, and the powerful snap of its teeth narrowly misses.
Focus. Micah tries to get his bearings, but their attacks are too swift. They’re too agile to be normal. These wolves have every intent to kill him. Shit.
Fucking bastards. He can’t think. Ryu is waiting for him. The wolves continue their assault. Micah can’t hold back anymore.
He pivots right, twisting out of the wolf’s hold on his nape, and knocks the wolf onto its back. Micah brings his massive paw down onto his neck, crushing his windpipe. He pants, his whole body aching and exhausted. He can barely catch his breath before another wolf pounces on him.
Micah staggers under the weight of the wolf but manages to stay upright as he struggles to keep the wolf from ripping apart his fur. The wolf snarls and cuts at his back and sides.
He bucks, twisting and turning like mad. It’s too much. He can’t think. He can’t see.
A clap of thunder pierces the air. Electricity crackles. Lightning slithers down, hitting the snow on top of the mountain. The snowpack splits in two, then in smaller parts, and the snow slides down the mountain.
Micah looks on in horror as the avalanche races toward him, gaining speed every second. With a surge of power, he shoves the wolf away and sprints as fast as possible. The world blurs around him. All he can hear is the devastating bellow of the snow crashing down the mountain He propels himself forward, panting like mad as he darts through the trees. It’s too close.
He chances a glance over his shoulder. The wolf is swallowed by a sea of snow. Shit. Faster and faster he runs. There’s no way he can make it.
If he doesn’t find shelter soon, he’ll be dead.
Micah slips, and the ground falls from under him.
-
Micah screams.
His vision whites out as bile upsurges from his stomach. Everything hurts. He pants, trying to take in his surroundings. It’s dark, only a small sliver of light peeking into the cave he’s in. He shivers. As he moves his arms and tries to sit up, agony ripples through him.
A spike of pain tears through his leg, and he screams again. Micah stares down with shaking hands. He’s back in human form. The body of a dead wolf lies a few feet away from him. There’s blood and grime everywhere. A thin sheen of sweat covers his naked chest.
Ryu. He has to get to him.
Micah trembles again. He licks his cracked lips and feels around for the source of pain. He touches his left thigh; blood is oozing from the wound. It’s not right.
The angle isn’t right.
He tries to move again. This time he nearly faints, and his whole body seizes up. Micah breathes harshly, blinking several times before his eyes snap back into focus.
His leg is impaled on a tree branch.
Micah vomits then, hot chunks of orange food onto the ground beside him. He must have fallen on it. The impact alone would’ve it driven straight through bone like a stake.
He knows what he has to do. To allow the wound to heal, he’ll need to rip the branch out and soon. But how long has he left?
If those were the wolves his father was talking about, then he’s stopped them from hurting Ryu, but if they aren’t, then they’ve got another problem on their hands.
Shit. He looks around for something, anything he can use for a torque so he can stop the blood flow. The cave is vast, the ground dirty and soiled. Micah is frantic. Blood keeps seeping from the wound. He knows how rapidly impaled objects can turn life-threatening, especially something as serious as this. What’s he going to do? If he takes it out without a torque, he could bleed to death. If he leaves it in, it would restrict his movements and possibly cripple him for life.
Micah groans again as pain tears through him. Ryu. He imagines his beautiful face, looking sad and worn as they tell him Micah isn’t there. Or the utter look of anger and betrayal that he would feel when he wakes up alone.
I’m coming.
Micah grits his teeth, gathering stre
ngth and forcing himself to grab hold of the stick. He snaps it in half, but the action causes his leg to judder and his vision to blackout.
He’ll have to keep the stake in his leg for now.
Micah uses a nearby rock to stumble to his feet. The pain comes swiftly and unyieldingly, and tears well in his eyes.
I’m coming. Micah staggers again, his naked body covered in blood and grime. It takes everything in him to shift. It’s so crippling he has to stop several times.
At last, he shifts into wolf form, his stomach roiling and the world spinning around him.
Wait for me.
Chapter 41
Micah walks for hours a trail of blood dripping behind him in the snow. He doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s close. He can feel it. The power of the Māku flows as he forces himself onward. He limps tirelessly, his wolf form slow and awkward, as it walks on three legs instead of four. Micah knows his hind leg is fucked; it looks brutal with the branch sticking out. Almost there.
He reaches out to Randolph through the link, but his thoughts are so muddled he can’t make out what’s being said.
Finally, after days of trudging through the snow, he reaches the cabin. Micah is exhausted. His once white fur is now matted and gray with dirt. The wound isn’t bleeding anymore, but the blood has clotted in a hideous purplish-blue pattern, spreading like veins down his thigh and leg.
Micah gasps. In the distance is a small cabin nestled deep in the valley. Smoke’s rising from the chimney. Micah’s heart beats faster. One look at Ryu’s face and he’ll know he never meant for this to happen. His heart lightens with each step. Yet the closer he gets, the less power the Māku exudes.
No. Micah stumbles into the snow.
Randolph and several other wolves race out of the house, looking frantic and disheveled.
“Alpha.” Randolph crouches down beside him. “Help me get him inside.”
”Ryu,” Micah asks. “Where is Ryu?”
Then everything goes black.
-
Micah startles awake.
He looks around. The Cabin. Ryu. He’s shifted back to his human form. The memories come to him swiftly, and he groans as he tries to sit up.
“Don’t.” Randolph forces him back down. “You’ve suffered a bad leg wound. Stay still.”
“Ryu,” Micah growls. “Let me see him. Is he all right?”
Randolph says nothing. He lifts the covers and applies some ointment to the wound. It stings, but thunder basil is the best medication. It burrows into his skin, activating his healing. “He’s fine.”
“Where is he?” Micah looks at him. Randolph’s face is drawn in a hard line, and he looks older, as if he aged years in a few days.
“He’s safe.”
Micah frowns. Why isn’t he saying anything? If Ryu is safe, then why isn’t he here with him? Micah’s stomach coils like he’s sick all over again. Something is wrong.
“What happened?”
Randolph sighs and stares down at him. “They came, and we had to act quickly.”
“What do you mean?” Micah grunts. “Speak.”
“We were under attack… By the time you came, Ryu had already healed, and he…didn’t want to stick around. I thought it would be best if he left, and he agreed. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry? No. This doesn’t make any sense. “Didn’t you tell him I was coming? Did he know I was looking for him?”
“I’m sorry, Alpha.”
That means Ryu wants nothing to do with him. Micah turns away, his eyes pricking with tears. Fuck, he’s gone too far this time. He betrayed his mate, and now Ryu is gone. No. He won’t believe it.
“Leave me.”
Randolph nods then and then leaves the room.
Micah clenches his jaw as the tears drip onto his cheeks. He thought he did the right thing, he thought listening to the council and keeping his distance would save Ryu, but all it did was split them apart.
No. It isn’t over. He’ll find Ryu and bring him back.
Today he’ll rest, and tomorrow they’ll find him.
Micah lies back down on the bed, exhaustion taking its toll. He lets the tears fall. Pain and guilt crash through him. He tried to stop them from punishing Ryu, but he failed. How can he even be called an Alpha when he treated his mate so horribly?
Is he okay? Is he safe?
He’ll find him and bring him back—bring him home.
Chapter 42
The next morning Micah gets dressed in the Silvercrest Howlers camo, with combat boots and several guns in his holster. They don’t have much time. He plans to follow Ryu’s scent into the forest. Hopefully, it will lead him to his whereabouts. Micah’s leg is still battered and bruised, and he favors his right leg, but he’s confident that he can make the journey. As he limps into the breakfast room, the wolves jump to attention, bowing deeply.
“Mobilize everyone. I want the area flushed out. Get our best trackers out here,” Micah says. “I want Ryu found by the end of the day.”
For the first time, they hesitate.
“What is it?”
“Alpha,” a wolf says. “Uh, you should speak to Randolph. He—”
“What does he have to do with this?” Micah asks. He never considered himself to be hot-headed, but every second they waste is seconds they could be spending finding Ryu.
“Alpha.” Randolph opens the front door of the cabin with two other wolves flanking him. “Forgive my tardiness. We were just getting ready to return to camp.”
“No,” Micah says. “I want the wolves mobilized. However much we can spare. I want the area scouted out, and Ryu found by the end of the day.”
Randolph freezes, his eyes going wide. “You—”
“We need to act fast. Ryu is out there, and we need to find him as quickly as possible.”
“Are you crazy?” Randolph sputters. “We’re in the middle of a goddamn war. The Filthy Claws have mounted another attack on the Silvercrest Howlers encampment. Our forces are depleted already as it is. Now you want to take more men and send them on a wild goose chase?”
All the air is sucked out of the room. Micah stares down at him, his expression thunderous. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Alpha,” Randolph pleads. “Listen to reason. Ryu doesn’t want to be found.”
“You lying sack of shit.”
“He left of his own volition, even after I told him you would be here soon.”
“I won’t hear any more of this.”
“Your father is dying,” Randolph exclaims.
What? It’s not true. It can’t be. Then he remembers his father the last time, the blood he coughed up, and the look of pure anguish on his face. Come back before the Filthy Claws mount another attack. Your marriage to Ryu can win the war.
“Get out,” Randolph barks to the other wolves, and they scramble to leave the room. “Listen to me. We don’t have time. Ryu left. He’s fine. Ask any wolf here. He doesn’t want to be found. He’s better off out there than he is with you in the Silvercrest Howlers clan.”
Micah shakes his head. No.
“They’ll kill him, brutalize him, do the worst things you can think of. The way those wolves attacked you is the same as what they’ll do to him. Let him go.”
He can’t.
“It’s better this way,” Randolph says sadly. “You’re young. You’ll have time to heal. Our wolves need their Alpha. I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that. You don’t give a shit anyway. He’ll never forgive me for this. Don’t you understand? He’ll never forgive me.”
Randolph goes quiet for a long time. “I know, but the people need you. If they overrun the camp, we could lose hundreds more. The clan needs you. Your father needs you.”
Micah clenches his jaw tightly.
He knows what he has to do. Duty above all else. Fine.
It’s over anyway.
He’s lost.
Chapter 43
Micah suffers in silence. It�
�s the sort of pain that blisters and burns. Like hell flames, it incinerates everything. Love, laughter, and light—all of it gone in a span of a few days. The worst part is that he tried desperately to get back to Ryu but ultimately failed. There’s no hope. Micah remembers the day his mother died, the agony of her absence in his life as he grew older. Now it seems history is repeating itself. He knew the moment he left that his father was in trouble. The second he pushed him to find Ryu, he should’ve noticed something was terribly wrong.
Micah shoves down his emotions, stuffing them into a deep dark place. He’ll do what’s required of him.
They head back to camp; the other wolves shift while Micah rides in a Jeep Wrangler. He’s too injured to walk properly, let alone shift with his men. He’ll need to speak to the council, find a way to utilize all their resources, and call for aid.
The Filthy Claws are mobilizing again, and their forces are growing more aggressive since the death of Kenyon. The Silvercrest Howlers naïvely assumed that after the death of their leader, the Filthy Claws would lose hope and succumb. It turns out they were wrong.
They arrive at the encampment. Micah doesn’t waste time talking to the council but heads straight to his father’s tent.
Michael is propped up on a cot with lavish furs. Incense is burning.
“Alpha.” A physician bows.
“What’s going on?” Micah stares down at his father, who has a thin line of sweat on his brow and upper lip. His skin looks ashen, turning nearly purple.
“He was fine after the first few days. It seems his situation is getting worse. There’s something you should know.”
Micah takes his father’s hand. His nail beds are raw and bloodied, and his nails have grown unnaturally long, like talons. What the hell? What kind of injury to the stomach would cause this?
“What?”
