by Dana Archer
Who else has?
I turn my attention to the cabin. Eli’s in there with Soren. Why hasn’t Eli come out? Or even yelled to me? I stand and take a step toward the cabin.
Soren’s shrill scream carries through the night.
“Oh, please, no. Please, no!” I run, pushing myself as hard as I can. The front door is still open. The door bangs into the wall as I skid inside. The man kneeling next to Eli’s prone body turns to look at me.
I suck in a sharp breath. “Nolan. What are you doing here?”
Nolan stands, dropping a dart, and grabs the handle of the car seat with a screaming Soren still inside. “Getting Soren.”
I swallow hard and scan the room, looking for something I can use as a weapon. The room is as bare as the last time I was here. “Why?”
Nolan strides forward and grabs my hand. On a sharp tug, he yanks me forward. “Brock’s babies for my kids. That’s the deal I struck, and if I’m lucky, they’ll want Ilan’s mate in exchange for mine too.”
Thirty-Nine
Ilan
Darkness surrounds me. Miles and miles of darkness. No cabin. No woods. No Sara or Soren. Everything’s gone. Because I’m dead. That’s the only explanation, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t remember dying. Neither do my wolves. We still feel alive. We still feel heaven shining within our soul.
If I’d died, I would’ve lost the piece of Sara’s soul as I crossed over to the other side. I didn’t. I can’t deny the significance of the dark abyss surrounding me, however. This is the realm of the goddesses, a blank canvas only they can shape. And I’m here, alone.
On a slow pivot, I take in the endless darkness. Apparently, the Kane goddess hasn’t bothered to create a world for her descendants. She’s nearby, though. This desolate realm is her home.
Choosing a random direction, I walk. I need to find my grandmother. Something isn’t right about my sudden appearance in her realm.
The sound of water off in the distance guides my steps. I follow the roaring noise, quickening my pace as the rushing water grows louder. The crackling of a fire reaches me next, followed by the nighttime murmur of insects. I jog toward the evidence of life. Grass replaces the floor of black fog. Warmth seeps into my skin. I rush toward where moonlight brightens the darkness, then step into a valley I walked through thousands of years ago.
The hut where Jarah, Daegan, and I lived during my youth sits in the same place it did all those years ago, right by the basin of water at the bottom of a waterfall.
My steps falter as more details of those days paint themselves across this valley.
The sharpened sticks we used to hunt with alongside our human neighbors are propped against a nearby tree while the pelts of animals are draped over low-hanging tree limbs. There’s even a wild boar roasting above a fire. The three logs surrounding it mark the spots where Jarah, Daegan, and I once sat. They’ll never walk through the Kane goddess’s realm, however. This place belongs to her descendants. None are here, though, save me, but Brock and Gabriel should’ve greeted me. They haven’t. I can’t help but wonder why.
On a pivot, I scan the valley, but there’s no sign of my twin or older brother. Why? They’ve both died. I felt their deaths. Yet they’re not here.
A woman in a feminine version of hunters’ garb—animal skins and leather—pushes open the tarp covering the entrance to the hut, pulling me from my thoughts. Braided black hair, orange eyes, weapons hanging from a belt around her waist, and scenes of death decorating her arms and legs—she doesn’t strike me as a grandmother. Or a mother, for that matter. She looks like a warrior, maybe a killer.
“I am.” She steps from the hut, letting the leather flap close behind her. “I’m a bringer of death, a feared huntress of the heavens. I’m one of many, but the first to win.”
“Win what?”
“The race to arms.”
She closes the distance between us, moving in a predatory glide that awakens my instinct to run. I lock my knees, killing the primitive response before I can act on it. This is my grandmother, my goddess, the source of my pack’s power. I won’t run from her or whatever fate she deems for me. I owe finding Sara to her.
One corner of my goddess’s lip rises slightly, no doubt at my thoughts. She can read them. She’s a goddess, and I’m on her turf. The only question left is…
“Why am I here? I’m not dead.”
The Kane goddess stops in front of me and tips her head back to meet my gaze. “A war is brewing, Ilan Kane. A war my sisters and I refuse to lose.”
“Jarah mentioned this to me. His goddess told him the same.”
She nods, never taking her gaze off me. “You are chosen to fight in it.”
My breaths quicken at the confirmation. “I can’t fight from here.”
“No, you can’t.” My grandmother turns her back on me and walks to the fire pit, where the scent of freshly roasted meat invites the hungry to sit and feast.
I follow her but don’t sit on either log next to her or look at the fire. I focus on her. “Why am I here?”
She reaches toward the ground. An earthen pot appears, the handle facing her open hand. She curls her fingers around the uneven handle. A misshapen mug solidifies in her other hand. She pours dark purple liquid into the ancient container. The sweet, heavy scent stirs memories of sitting with Owen and talking to Gabriel.
“Here. Share a drink with me.”
“Why am I here?” The growl to my voice adds a menacing quality to my question. I have no time to play this game. Sara and Soren are in another realm without me to protect them.
“Do you doubt the strength of the female I chose for you?” The Kane goddess tilts her head slightly, studying me as if she needs the clues my expression offers to understand my anger.
“Sara is human. Soren is a baby. Both can die.” Easily. Thinking about how quickly their lives could be snuffed out stirs the darkness living inside my soul. Even Sara’s goodness isn’t enough to chase it back. I’d take on the world and the heavens to ensure their safety.
“What you say is true.” My grandmother sets the mug she’s poured on the ground at her feet and fills another mug that’s solidified out of thin air. “They might die. You are right about that. I wouldn’t be able to save them either. I’m not allowed to walk among mortals, but I trust in the female I’ve chosen as your balance. You should too.”
I take a calming breath and hunker down near my goddess. “I do trust Sara.”
“Then why question her strength?”
A growl slips from my mouth. “I’m not. I’m demanding an answer to my question. Why am I here?”
The Kane goddess balances the mug she just poured between her knees and grabs the mug she set on the ground. She holds it out to me. “Sit and share a drink with me. Your body is not yet healed enough for your soul to remain on the human world.”
Breath caught, I stare at my grandmother. “Not healed enough? When was I in a battle?” Because I don’t remember it.
“You weren’t, but your body is damaged. Severely damaged.” Again she holds out the mug. “Drink, Ilan, and open your mind. Sometimes the whispers of truth our souls share with us are more powerful than those shouted on the mountaintops.”
Sighing, I close my eyes. If there is one thing I learned since Brock died, it’s that when those around me dance around the truth, I’m not going to like it. “On one condition.”
“And that is?”
“Sara and Soren.” I open my eyes and meet my grandmother’s gaze. “Are they well?”
“Your true mate will fight until her last breath to protect Soren.”
A slow exhale does little to calm me. Losing the heart or the future of my pack would destroy me. Of course, I’m not in the same realm with Sara and Soren. I’m here in this replication of the valley where I made some of the happiest memories of my life. “Sara will kill for Soren. She’ll die for him. I already know this, and I trust in her to fight with everything she has.”
“Then let her fight in your absence. You’ll get the chance to do the same for her soon.”
“Her life will be threatened?” Goddesses can see the future. Mine would know what awaits us.
“The future is fluid and subject to free will. Anything I share is only one possibility out of many. Unless it serves a specific purpose to do so, we don’t share those possibilities with our descendants. Sometimes it can cause more harm than good.”
Uneasiness slithers through me. Part of me wants to demand she share any possible outcomes involving Sara’s and Soren’s fates with me. My goddess is right, however. They won’t do any good. Only one thing will ease me. “Do you trust Sara?”
“She is the future of the Kane pack.” Flickering flames dance in my grandmother’s eyes. Power skips along my skin. “If she fails, I lose.”
“And you refuse to lose.”
“Exactly.” She holds the mug farther out to me, leaning closer as if she wants to shove the earthen mug into my chest. “My success and future are in your human mate’s hands. That goes way beyond trust. Now sit and heed my words before it’s time for you to fight too.”
The subtle warning in my grandmother’s tone directs me. I take the mug and sit, stretching my legs out in front of me. “Why am I here, then, and not with Sara? Together, we are powerful.”
“Because your body is too damaged to sustain your soul.”
She’s already said as much. I take a deep breath, willing myself to remain calm. “What happened to me? I remember kneeling in my pack’s circle, then kneeling here. I was not in a battle.”
“You weren’t. You were attacked by curs, exactly as Daegan and Ezra were.” She takes a sip from her mug. Her eyes close on a look of pleasure as she licks her lips. “Jarah has since eradicated the shameless coward who shot you, but there are others, and they’re gathering, waiting to betray another goddess’s weapon. You must stop them. We can’t lose any warriors this close to the battle.”
“Who?” I face my grandmother. “Jarah? Or Eli?”
“Neither are weapons.” She holds my gaze for a long, pointed moment. “Yet.”
“Because they have not yet claimed their true mates.”
“Exactly, they haven’t. And neither have you. Not completely.”
“And it’s a good thing I haven’t soul-bonded to Sara yet. She’d be suffering with me.”
“But thanks to Jarah, you are healing, which means your time here with me is limited. Do not waste it.”
But she already has with this game we’re playing.
“No. You’re the one wasting time.” She motions to my untouched drink. “Drink and allow the effects of holding a piece of Sara’s soul to turn you into the godlike warrior needed to lead the Kane pack into a new era.”
While I don’t understand my grandmother’s statement, I follow her direction and raise the mug. The rich scent of the dark brew fills my lungs. I take a sip, then another and another, the taste unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s not ambrosia. It’s something else, something stronger. An unquenchable thirst grips me. I drain the mug. Need grips me in the next instant.
With the last drop on my tongue, I steal a covetous glance at the jug on the opposite side of my goddess. I want more. I’d do anything for more.
An amused expression passes over the Kane goddess’s face. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” It takes more willpower than I’d like to admit to tear my focused gaze from the jug to her face. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever tasted.”
“That’s because you’ve never drank with a goddess.”
Or listened with more than your ears. The whispered words skip through my soul. Excitement winds itself into my muscles. I hold out the mug. “I want more.”
The level of the drink rises to the rim without the jug moving from its spot on the ground by the Kane goddess’s feet. Using two hands, I raise the mug to my lips and drain the contents. Headiness spreads through me as I swallow the last drop.
My body sways. I brace myself with my free hand and turn my heavy head in my goddess’s direction. “Where are Gabriel and Brock?”
“Brock is with his mate’s family in her goddess’s realm. Gabriel has established his own family through Owen. Both chose to abandon me. Permanently.” My grandmother focuses angry eyes on me. “Will you be joining them?”
The compulsion to comfort this powerful huntress is too intense to ignore. Sara’s doing. I understand this now. She’s awakened this side of me and taught me compassion is not a sign of weakness. It’s a source of strength, both the physical kind and emotional kind. I feel as though I can take on the world. And win. “I’ve always had the option of leaving you. Jarah’s offer to join me to his goddess never came with an expiration date. He made sure I understood that after I told him the only way I’d accept is if I’m no longer welcome in the Kane pack.” I glance at the world my goddess has created for me, then nod. “And I still feel welcome here.”
The churning flames in her eyes slow. She stares at me with what I’d call satisfaction, maybe pride, then nods. “Yes, you are welcome here. Now ask me the question that’s plaguing you.”
I have many questions, from what is happening to Sara and Soren right now to how long it is before this war I’m to fight in starts. One matters most, however. “Where is the Kane spirit?”
My goddess turns her hands over, forming a bowl. A tattoo of a screaming skull is inked into one palm. A bleeding heart is etched into the other. She blows into the vessel she’s made with her hands, her breath forming a swirling ball of iridescent smoke. Awareness settles over me just as it did when Soren let down the shield he held around his wolves and when Gabriel spoke to me through Owen. I’m in the presence of my pack. My goddess is holding it in her hands.
My fingers itch with the desire to snatch the swirling globe from her. I curl my fingers, letting the bite of pain from my nails embedding into my skin stop me. “It’ll come to me on the night of the full moon?”
The Kane goddess raises her hands and blows, scattering the smoky, iridescent ball into the air in front of me. I inhale, unable to stop myself. The tendrils of smoke fill my lungs, expanding my chest on a burst of pain that knocks me backward. I land on my back, my chest on fire and blood boiling. A scream crawls up my throat as the smoke seeps into my muscles, my bones. Even my wolves howl and cry in agony, their bodies burning. I scratch at my chest, digging furrows into my skin and trying to get the smoke out. The pinch of pain does little to stop the utter torment locking my body. I thrash, unable to stand, unable to scream. All I can do is suffer.
My grandmother crouches next to me. She lays a hand to my chest, cutting off the pain as if it hadn’t just left me writhing as my body burned from the inside out. “Gabriel has started his own family and taken the spirit of the first Kane with him. You’ll never host it. Instead, you’ll be the one seeking a host if you ever lose to death.”
The significance of her words hits me. “I’m an alpha.”
“The new Kane alpha.” She nods, the look of satisfaction back on her face. “With all the rights of a firstborn.”
A firm push against my chest stops my reply. The ground beneath me flexes as the details of the valley where I grew up disappears. My body sinks into the blackness. I reach for my grandmother, not ready to lose her yet. She fades, her image turning translucent.
“You’ll never lose me, Ilan Kane, even though someday you might wish you could. Just ask Jarah what it’s like to have a direct line of communication with the heavens.” A feminine laugh echoes in my head as I fall into the darkness. “But I promise I’m not a nag. In fact, you can tell Gabriel I forgive him and I wish his pack well.”
My goddess’s voice and her presence in my mind fades, then disappears, but I feel the thread to her. One tug and she’ll be with me again. Now I have to guarantee I’ll always have Sara when I need her too. Eyes closed, I reach for my body, sensing it in a way I never have before, as if I hold my own inner light, a beacon
my pack can use to find me.
The thought comes and goes, replaced by another wave of utter agony. My back arches on a scream I can’t contain. I dig my fingers into the ground as blood rushes to my deprived muscles and organs. Pain seizes me, locking my body. I welcome the agony, exalting in the knowledge that it means I’m alive and back in the same realm as Sara.
Jarah’s eyes fill my vision as my face contorts on a wave of anguish that threatens to stop my heart. His wide smile shows satisfaction. “You made me a hero, Ilan.”
Once I can move, I drag myself into a sitting position. “Welcome.”
My thanks is barely audible. It’s loud enough, though. Jarah’s small nod is proof.
I move to stand and drop immediately to my knees. The sensation of pins and needles races through my veins, and tremors shake my body so hard my teeth chatter. Everything hurts, as if there’s sandpaper in my veins, but the pain is receding. Not fast enough, though. I have no time for weakness. Cursing, I draw my leaden legs under me.
Jarah grabs my elbow and helps me stand, then holds me up with an arm around my shoulders. “I ripped your heart out, but I wasn’t sure it would help. The witch’s salve already got pumped through your body and into your brain, deadening everything along the way before your heart seized up. Thought you might actually die.”
While I appreciate the explanation and Jarah’s efforts to save me, there’s only one thing that matters now. Well, two things, actually. “Sara and Soren.”
“Gone. Nolan has them.”
Rage shoves back the last of the pain from returning to life. I shove away from Jarah and stumble on legs that feel like jelly. I lock my knees and glare at Jarah. “Why didn’t you go after them?”
“The woods are overflowing with lions and bears. I couldn’t leave you unguarded. Not when they’ve already proven they can get to you.”
“Bears? Which clan?” The word comes out hoarse, my throat still raw from screaming.
“Several. Most from the Ulgran clan. They’re known to be involved in trafficking.” Jarah’s features twist in an expression of fury. “But what they did tonight—using some kind of gun on you—dropped them to a new low. It had to have some type of scope on it in order to take you out. There’s no other explanation for the attack on you. I combed these woods. There was nobody close.”
