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

by J. K. Jones

  “Three.” Arima Kihei takes Hikari and snaps it in half. A sonic shrill erupts. Ryu screams as his sword fall to pieces. Fucking bastard. It’s the most precious thing he has in the entire world. He’ll kill him. The world shifts into focus, even if sweat and blood trickle down his brow. Exhausted, waned, Ryu rises to his full height. He imagines Marissa’s sweet face, all the wolves that risked their lives so that they can live. He won’t allow this bastard to break him.

  “Two.” Arima Kihei points his sword to his throat, right next to the Māku.

  Ryu flinches, his mind racing on what to do next. In this position, he can’t move, or the Bloodhound Prince will cut his head clean off. No time to think. Ryu panics, heart seizing in his chest.

  Be the cure. You are the change. It’s her. Ryu’s blood sings, surging with renowned power, reviving his battered soul. Vuneas presses her lips against his ear. Be my vessel.

  Rage burns brightly inside him. He dodges the scimitar, just before it comes crashing toward his head. Ryu grabs Hikari’s broken handle and shoves the sword straight through Arima Kihei’s heart.

  “One.” Ryu twists the blade until it runs straight through.

  Surprise covers the Bloodhound Prince’s features. His red glowing eyes bleed black, and veins of resentment pulsate through his pale white flesh. Two Bloodhounds. One good and one evil. It’s catastrophic. Their powers equal to that of the gods. Hikari rumbles, its gleam blinding as it singes Arima Kihei’s flesh. Flinging himself back, Arima Kihei spurts out blood and grips the handle of the sword tightly. “You fuck.”

  Breathlessly, Ryu unsheathes the second part of Hikari and crouches into formation. “Don’t test me.”

  The Bloodhound Prince snarls, but the blade in his chest frenzies, the light getting brighter and brighter. “That bitch.” He trembles, eyes widening in terror as the righteous glow from Hikari is brighter than the sun.

  “Hikari!” The sword shreds the air, sailing toward him with deadly force. Ryu catches the handle; it glows a malevolent yellow hue. “Kill him.”

  Spinning like a rotator, it tears across the air, flying faster than the eye can see. Arima Kihei smirks and then bursts, right before his eyes, into ash.

  Chapter 59

  Falling to his knees, Ryu clutches his chest. Pain scorches through his core as he fights to rip open his vest. Gasping, Ryu tears the buttons open and looks down frantically. Right there, over his heart blossoms a fiery wound. It chars his skin and blisters like mad. What the fuck? It’s the same spot he stabbed Arima Kihei. The world tilts, and he nearly faints from exhaustion and adrenaline. A wolf missing half a soul. With trembling hands, he grips his sword. His hair falls like a curtain around his face. They are one and the same.

  The Bloodhound Prince needs them to become one so that he can complete the curse and bring the Age of the Lycans into fruition. Vuneas must be actively working against him by splitting his soul, reincarnating it into Ryu so that it can never happen. It’s through Randolph and Kenyon that the Bloodhound Prince learned of his existence, or else he would still be withering away in Mount Horai.

  It chills him to the bone.

  Tears spring from his eyes as he gathers the broken pieces of Hikari. One half is completely mangled. Metal shards lie all over the ground, while the other half is still intact. His heart twists painfully. He takes what he can and stumbles out.

  Sunlight streams over pillars and rocks. His feet feel like anvils, and his arms are like lead. It’s too much pain to bear, but he knows Micah will be worried. Ryu toils on, fighting through the ruins. Daylight comes, casting the clouds back into the abyss. Shielding his eyes, Ryu looks around.

  Soldiers.

  Hundreds, thousands of them marching across the terrain. They carry blow torches and burn the remaining Lycans to a crisp. They help the civilian wolves get to safety, administer first aid and vaccines to those who need it. Their camo is black, vaguely familiar as he limps down the road.

  “Are you Ryu Suzuki?” a soldier asks.

  Ryu nods.

  “Come with me.”

  He’s not sure how he recognized him, but perhaps Micah let everyone know he’s searching for him. They climb into his Jeep. The soldier takes him to a different encampment, close to the place they were supposed to meet General Miah. He parks, and they exit the vehicle. Ryu scents the air. The camps are stuffed to the brim with civilians receiving food and medical care. Who did all this? It’s perplexing since the Silvercrest Howlers encampment has been blown to pieces. Who has to resources to do all this?

  “This way,” the soldier says, leading him to a large tent. Ryu steps inside, then tenses. Several men stand around a large map. He recognizes General Sato and General Hasegawa as well as the clan leaders. Fermin sends him a brittle smile. His face is bruised, his shirt torn. Deryn gives him a once-over, then dismisses him and turns back to the leader of the group. He hunches over documents, speaking rapidly. Ryu doesn’t recognize him, but something about his posture seems familiar. His hair is long, and his shoulders are wide, robust. Who is this man?

  Where’s Micah? The question scorches his tongue, but he swallows it down. Whoever this person is, he must be extremely powerful. Not one of the clans has the resources to pull this off, not even the Thunder Hunters.

  “Ryu.” General Sato bows. “Ah, I mean Kuroi kage. We were able to subdue the Lycans.”

  “I see.”

  Kazan huffs loudly. “These bastards…always need to make an entrance.”

  “Indeed,” the man says and turns around. That voice. Ryu quivers. It’s been years since he’s heard that voice.

  “Ryu.” He levels him with a piercing look. “Sorry, I’m late.”

  -

  Ryu throws his arms around him and hugs him tightly. It’s crushing, bruising even, as he presses his full body against him.

  “Haru,” he says tearfully. It’s been so long. He wants to say so many things, but emotions clog his throat.

  Haru peels back and cups his face. “You look like hell.”

  Ryu gives a watery laugh, tasting dried blood on his lips. “You—”

  “Ahem.” Kazan glares at them both. Haru’s hand slips down his neck and thumbs the skin there gently. It’s an obscene gesture, causing many of the wolves to tense. Only Micah is allowed to touch him there. The hairs on Ryu’s skin rise as his cheeks heat. They separate as if bitten.

  “Is there anyone he hasn’t slept with?” Deryn mutters to Trmon.

  Omegas should never act so familiar with Alphas, especially those who weren’t their mates. Ryu knows better. Yet it’s been years since he’s seen Haru. He left the Blackfang Hounds without notifying him. After being thrown into the pits, Haru probably thought he’s been dead all these years.

  “As touching as this reunion is” Kazan grunts, “we have bigger issues to attend to.”

  “Of course.” Haru glances at him impassively. “Get some rest, Ryu. I’ll fill you in later.”

  “Thank you. Where’s—”

  “Last tent to the left. He’s waiting for you.”

  Striding outside of the tent, Ryu takes a stuttering breath. Haru is back. It lightens his heart to think about his old friend. There’s a way they can win this after all. He needs to see his mate. Ryu walks to the tent, his heart beating faster and faster. Opening the tent flaps, he sees his mate lying on a cot, his leg bandaged, but otherwise unscathed.

  Micah.

  Everything fades to black.

  Chapter 60

  Broken scales, razor-sharp teeth, and cutting fangs. A demon. It regards him in the mirror, a reflection that stings his heart. Midnight hair mutates into white; gray eyes bleed mulberry. Decay and destruction fold around him like a warm blanket.

  Ryu holds a scimitar, hyperventilating on top of a mountain of corpses. No. He gasps awake. A dream? A nightmare. Something conjured from the abyss. Turning onto his side, he finds the air crisp against his back, cooling the sweat. He touches something warm, then feels around the dark. Mica
h is beside him on the cot. Both of their legs are intertwined. They’re naked, it’s startling but makes him want to borrow deeper next to his Alpha. The other wolves must have gotten him onto the bed after he collapsed.

  “Are you okay?” Micah asks.

  Emotions threaten to overtake him. How can he respond to that? No. He’s not okay. Ryu buries his face in his chest, and tears slowly slip down his cheeks. He’s failed them all again. Gathering him in his arms, Micah says nothing. It’s safe and warm there, like a cocoon. Ryu allows himself a moment of weakness.

  “We did everything we could.”

  “Then why wasn’t it enough?” Ryu asks. The entire Silvercrest army is gone. Marissa is dead. The rebel leaders and the wolves respected by the Filthy Claws have vanished. Where do they go from here? Who will lead the people? Where will they go? They are destitute. The Silvercrest Howlers don’t have the resources for this.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Micah replies, his voice strong. “They know Marissa trusted you, or else she wouldn’t have been on board with our plan in the first place. You can lead them. They’ll listen to you.”

  “I’ve failed them too many times,” Ryu says bitterly. “What’s there to listen to?”

  “You did everything you could.” Micah strokes his jaw. “Would you call me a failure? Or Trmon or Deryn?”

  “That’s different,” Ryu says. They don’t have godly powers. The whole point of Vuneas giving them to him is they don’t have to fight.

  “What happened back there?” Micah asks. “I told you to come back with Deryn.”

  Running his finger down Micah’s broad chest, he ponders his response. “I had to fight him. It was the only way.”

  “And?”

  “And I lost.” Ryu takes a stuttering breath. “He beat me,” Ryu tells Micah what happened, explaining in detail the events that led him to stab Arima Kihei. “It’s the same mark here.” He touches his chest, where the skin is charred the most. “I don’t know what any of it means.”

  Micah frowns. “Me neither.”

  “What’s the difference between Māku and twin souls?”

  “The Māku is a mating bond between two wolf spirits,” Micah replies. “That’s why when we mated so young, our bond was the strongest. After wolves are exiled, they no longer have a sense of their pack, but they almost always recognize their Alpha. They are both lifetime spiritual bonds. One can’t exist without the other.”

  “So if I try to kill the Bloodhound Prince, that means I’ll be killing myself?”

  “Not necessarily…good and evil are paradoxes. If you are twin souls, then he needs you to survive and fulfill his mission to bring the Age of the Lycans, but it doesn’t mean you need him.”

  “I don’t understand.” Ryu scowls. What does it mean? Even if good and evil run parallel, if he hurts Arima Kihei, then he’s hurt as well.

  Micah smiles ruefully. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “What was?”

  Micah strokes his cheek, staring at him fondly. “The removal of the exile curse.”

  His breath hitches, and he gazes at him in awe. “You mean…”

  “Only an Alpha can remove the curse of an exile. I was going to surprise you on our wedding day and formally welcome you back into the clan. Oof—”

  Ryu silences him with a deep kiss. “Thank you, thank you.” At last, he’s one with his wolf again. The curse will be lifted. He can shift and become a part of the clan. “I have no idea what any of this means, though.”

  “The Māku is stronger. Like I said earlier, it’s protected by Qitdum. You may feel Arima Kihei’s pain or even hear thoughts or feel his emotions, but you won’t be too heavily affected by it.” Micah touches the scar on his chest. “You stabbed him in the heart, but on you, it’s just a wound that will heal. Your connection to him is strong but not as strong as ours. Vuneas must have known that before turning you into a Bloodhound.”

  With two Māku on his skin, their bond is even stronger. Something else the Bloodhound Prince said also caught his attention. “He transformed into me,” Ryu murmurs. “It’s fucking sick. I threw up because it was like he was saying that I caused this—that it’s all because of me. And,” Ryu swallows thickly. “If didn’t call on Vuneas—if I didn’t fucking wish for everyone to die then I wouldn’t even be a bloodhound, none of this shit would be happening. During the transformation process, perhaps our spirits split?”

  “You mean… after Arima Kihei became a bloodhound Vuneas split his soul? That means the other half went into you, therefore you are living out separate, but similar experiences? I think I heard something comparable in the Silvercrest Howler legends…” He ponders his response. “In the old world, the story is of an Alpha, not an Omega, but the message is the same. A wolf with a missing soul, reincarnated and traveling through the dimensions of time to make himself whole.”

  “Do you know what happens when their souls come together?”

  Micah shakes his head. “No…I don’t remember the rest of the story, but I can imagine it must be to bring the Age of the Lycans. I think it all comes down to resentment, his resentment is stronger because everyone he loved turned their backs on him…as for you, it’s the opposite. You have people that love you, that care for you, therefore there is still reason for you to love and hope. I think Arima Kihei—like Kenyon, lost that a long time ago.”

  That still doesn’t get them anywhere. Even if he did manage to win the next time they fight, can he avoid Arima Kihei for the rest of his life? Can he ask Micah to? How can they kill this bastard and be done with it?

  “We will win,” Micah's black eyes bore into his. “Don’t think like that. Trust and have hope. What did Sensei Musashi always use to say? Without bones, the head cannot rest on top of the spine, nor hands move, nor feet stand. The backbone of Bushidō must always be your guide. You must always stand up for what is right, even if you stand alone.”

  Ryu leans over to kiss him again, pouring everything he can into it. “God, I love you. You’re so smart and sexy and…"

  Micah laughs, then winces in pain, gently touching his kneecap. Oh no. Ryu stares at it in horror. “Micah, you’re leg.”

  “It will heal.” Micah snarls with pure conviction.

  Ryu swallows down his response. Micah’s kneecap is torn to shreds. Even with his wolf healing, it would take a long time. “Of course, it will.”

  “Sorry.” Micah sighs. “The physicians are not so optimistic. I need to be with my men. I can’t be incapacitated like this.”

  “Whatever you need, I’m here,” Ryu says in a firm voice. “I won’t leave you again.”

  Micah smiles. “I know.”

  They continue whispering deep into the night. His heart beats a steady rhythm with thoughts of their future together. A long road is stretched out before them, but Ryu knows he’ll always be safe.

  Chapter 61

  In the soft white-gold light of a new day, Ryu sighs, taking in the hues of the tent, heavy with grays, browns, and greens. Micah’s side is empty, as is the warmth he brought with his presence. It’s been a few days since he’s come to the encampment. Things have stabilized rapidly with the help of the Blackfang Hounds. It’s strange to believe how war brings everyone together, and through the torrents of turmoil, they lend a helping hand. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stretches, bones cracking loudly.

  He touches his chest, noticing a faint scar from the wound. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but sometimes he’ll feel phantom pain. He gets off the bed and runs a hand through his hair. Frowning, he looks around the room for his clothes. Ryu takes in the ivory kimono hanging near the entrance.

  What the hell?

  Ryu steps closer. A small piece of paper hangs on the front. He rips it off reads it carefully. Kekkon shite kuremasen ka. Heat burns down his cheeks all the way to his neck. Oh. Ryu reads the note several times as tears sting his eyes.

  Yes, god, yes. Ryu touches the kimono, marveling at the thick colorful lined texture of
the fabric. Ryu puts it on in front of the mirror. The last layer is unfastened, accentuating his willowy form. Using a hair tie, he bundles his hair into a topknot, letting a few tendrils down to accentuate his face.

  A knock sounds at the door.

  “Ryu?” Deryn asks. “Are you decent?”

  Smoothing the kimono out, he stares at himself in the mirror. “Come in.”

  Deryn enters, dressed in a light blue kimono made of rich silk. “Ready?” He looks better, the scars have cleared, but his eyes still carry heavy black rings. “Wow. You look amazing…” Ryu blinks at him with disbelief. That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to him. It’s strange. Ryu stands there awkwardly, fidgeting. Are they friends? It’s traumatizing to think about.

  Deryn turns away and coughs awkwardly. “I mean… for someone who has no sense of style or fashion.”

  Never mind. “Did you need something?” Jackass.

  “Your chariot awaits,” Deryn mumbles sarcastically, gesturing outside. Deryn leads him down a narrow path. It’s still early in the morning. Only a few wolves wander around the encampment. As he rounds the bend, the area changes drastically. Farther away from the encampment, he can see rich landscapes. Large slopes of green pastures come into view. “Where are we?”

  “The Blackfang Hounds,” Deryn mutters, but his hands clench at his sides. It must burn him to work with them, especially wolves he feels are responsible for killing his family. Ryu doesn’t know Deryn very well, but something about him always makes him sad. As if his anger and resentment toward everyone are like brittle armor—frail and littered with holes. Yet they’ve come so far. He might even say he trust Deryn with his life. A small shrine comes into view, surrounded by a small garden. It belongs to Haveus. Stone lanterns fill the orchard, along with water basins, arbors, bridges, and spanning evergreens; a winding path leads past the stone pagoda.

  It’s stunning. Where did Micah find a place like this? Deryn gives him an inquisitive look, then continues. As they enter, a Shinto priest stands to the right of the altar, while a shrine maiden stands to the left. Kekkon shite kuremasen ka.