Chapter 45
CHAPTER 45
G o?
Isla pressed the blade a touch firmer. “Go where?”
The killer didn’t answer; they only glanced at Sebastian who was stalking closer, his claws drawn at his side.“Isla, what the hell is going on?”
“Wait,” Isla commanded, but the slight movement was enough opportunity for the killer to push against her. She stumbled back, and they easily slipped away.
Then they ran.
Isla blinked, taking a moment of pause to gather if this were, in fact, a nightmare. “For the love of fuck.”
She broke out into a sprint, Sebastian not far behind her.
“Who is that?” he called from beside her, but Isla didn’t answer. Both because she wasn’t sure how and because they were struggling to keep up.
The killer was fast, she’d always known that, but in chasing them, she learned just how swiftly and agilely they moved. Shifting would’ve given her a better chance at catching them, but Kai would know, would detect that kind of rise from her, even shut out from each other. He was in the arena now, the gates closed, leading ceremonies beginning. If he felt her feeling threatened, if he attempted to step out, it would be considered a forfeit. That warranted not only the stripping of an alpha title but the losing of one’s honor and a death sentence.
Only one wolf who’d just stepped onto that stone was living to see another day off it. There were no loopholes. No exceptions.
The killer had taken a path she hadn’t gone at all with Kai in their aimlessness. Inclines and descents. Darker and deeper into the unknown. The roar of the crowd—that had become a wave of cheers and boos—faded farther away.
Isla dug within herself, forcing her human legs to pump faster, but she was losing ground, Sebastian edging in front. Her wolf barked at her to let it out, but just as she was about to damn all to hell and power into a shift on her next step, the killer stopped. They stood before a weather-worn statue, which they hurriedly pushed out of the way to reveal a small fissure in the rock wall. They squeezed through it just as Isla reached for them.
She cursed, and Sebastian’s questioning fell on prideful and deaf ears as Isla followed into the small space.
She didn’t let up to marvel at the crystals that illuminated the cavern. Instead, she went right to the killer and, with a cry that could’ve shaken the surrounding mountains, gripped their bony shoulders and hurled them against the rock wall. Their cloak, its hood, jostled as their back met the hard surface. They drew a blade and met hers with it.
Steel on steel, their weapons reflected the blue-white gems and the hardened look in both sets of eyes. With the movement, the killer’s hood had fallen a little off their face, revealing gaunt features that Isla could see more clearly now. Their eyes were dark and sunk into their sockets. They didn’t bear the bright red flare they had when Isla had lunged at them, and their skin was peppered with scars. One particularly gruesome one slashed from their temple down into the scarf they were using to cover the lower part of their face.
Isla lifted her gaze to the top of their hood, pushed back enough to reveal their hairline and the smallest wisp of dirty hair. Maybe a burnished gold if it weren’t for the mud caked on it. She didn’t harp on it long and instead, brought her eyes back to theirs.
Behind her, Sebastian’s claws and teeth were drawn, his eyes shining. His power radiated through the tunnel walls. “You were the one I scented in Abalys.”
The killer’s eyes darted between the siblings, their eyes glassy, and before Isla could even press them with any question, they rasped, “I’m sorry.”
She tensed, and her claws tore through her skin. She wanted to look around to see if they’d stupidly fallen into a trap, but she didn’t want to remove her eyes, in case that was the diversion.Thankfully, Sebastian had taken to the canvassing.
“What?” Isla pressed, mentally assessing the next move she could make. Drive her claws in their side, sweep their legs, let up on her dagger’s hold just enough to catch them off-balance?
More rasped breathing and sounds, as if they were trying to work out the words, struggling for each syllable. “I am sorry.”
They brought down their weapon. Isla didn’t drop hers.She barely let up as she processed the words, the grief and remorse behind them. Not for right now, but—
Isla blinked. “Kyran and Jaden.” The killer winced at the names, and Isla lowered her blade. Her voice softened. “You didn’t want to kill them.”
As the killer shook their head, a confirmation of what they’d done, Sebastian closed in, his voice boomed within the small space, “What are you talking about? Isla, who the fuck is this?”
The killer flinched, their brows wrinkling with their frown. Their hold on their blade tightened, but they didn’t raise it as Sebastian drew closer. For a moment, it looked like they’d actually let it fall.
On instinct, Isla wedged between them, stopping Sebastian with a hand on his chest. His wild gaze fell on hers, and she drew her wolf just enough that her eyes and lumerosi glowed. “Stand down.”
“ What ?”
Isla tried to keep her voice even and calm, despite the madness of this situation. “They’re the one who killed Kai’s family,” she disclosed, and then turned to the killer, who hadn’t moved. Hadn’t run away. “Was she controlling you with magic? Were you cursed like Lukas?”
“Yes—and no,” they rasped before letting out a hard breath. “Would’ve been mercy.”
Mercy?
“Were you threatened?”
“No.”
Isla’s brows drew together, and behind her, she felt Sebastian relax, if only slightly. His claws were still drawn; his aura still deadly. He was letting the situation play out, allowing her interrogation, analyzing. Isla asked next, “Why did she want them dead?”
“I…I don’t remember.” The killer hung their head. “She took…she took my…memories. She took…everything.”
The hollowness in their voice, the brokenness, fractured Isla’s soul, nearly made her eyes sting, and for a moment, she wondered if it had a feminine quality beneath the grated tone. She’d never heard them speak so much. Never used so many words.
She examined them, clocking again their broken hands, the scars, how skittish they seemed.
“She tortured you.”It was Sebastian who’d drawn the conclusion.
They visibly recoiled, and the words settled between them. They festered and thickened before the killer finally answered, “Very…very long time.”
“How did you get away?”
Their grip on their blade tightened, but Isla didn’t feel threatened. “Remembered.”Their eyes slid from Isla to Sebastian. Once. Twice. Now, tears did seem to well at the cusp of their red-rimmed lids. “I remember much now.”
Before Isla could ask if that’s why they hadn’t killed Kai, because they remembered, something rumbled from deeper within the tunnels. They all exchanged glances before the killer ran towards the sound. Isla and Sebastian followed. The stone walls she steadied herself against were cold and slick beneath her fingertips as she shimmied through the narrowing and widening path. Rainwater from the storm trickled down from above, weathering the stones.
This hadn’t been a true tunnel, not like the one they eventually stared down into.
Peering over the killer’s shoulder, Isla examined the crossroads. Four paths with markers and large wooden poles wedged into the walls. Each had similar and differing symbols—symbols known by those who lived in Ares—and what was emerging from the western pathway …
Isla put a hand over her mouth and instinctually threw her hand over Sebastian’s before he could utter a sound.
Three bak, their thick, heavy claws scraping along the tunnel floor, their harsh, labored breaths echoing off the walls, continued through to the east.
When they’d disappeared, Isla looked down at the killer, who hadn’t been alarmed at all.
That’s what all of this had been for. They’d known.
“Are you serious?” she whispered, barely over a breath. “Why didn’t you say it was bak?”
“Only three. We are three,” was their response.
Simple. Confident.
So, they were supposed to kill them.
Isla turned to Sebastian, whose eyes had since dimmed. His grin was an odd mix of amused and astonished. “They’re uglier than I remember. How did they get beyond the Wall?”
“It’s a very long story.” Isla looked at the killer. “You know these tunnels. Where are they going? Is there an opening somewhere?”
“An opening.” They gathered themselves, their words. “At the base or into the arena. No longer closed.”
No longer closed. So, someone had opened them, and it wasn’t this narrow path. But the who could be figured out later.
Isla straightened. “The arena?”
Upon their nod, she began removing her uniform.
“Oh, we’re fighting,” Sebastian said with an edge of excitement, though given the paleness of his features, some of the bravado may have been fabricated.
“Are there more?” Isla asked, preparing to remove her tunic.
“Not sure if any slipped by when I got you.”
Isla pursed her lips. If the bak got into the arena or onto any pack ground, it would be a disaster. Any blood spilled before they were taken down would be too much.
She turned to Sebastian, who’d already stripped off his shirt, the lumerosi over his arms glowing. “I need you to go back to the arena. Get Ameera and Rhydian, tell them exactly what you saw, and canvas the area, make sure no others get through. Don’t let anyone else hear.” The last thing they needed was to incite panic.
Sebastian looked baffled. “No way I’m leaving you. Other than the fact Kai would kill me, I—”
Isla’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to think of Kai or what lay above. Didn’t want to glimpse over that wall she’d built. “Seb, if we miss a single one, if any get into the pack, it will be hell. I’ve taken down two bak before. So have they. We’ll be fine.” It felt so odd, so wrong to be speaking of her and the killer as a team.
Sebastian’s eyes fell on them behind her, lingering for far longer than they likely could’ve afforded. For a moment, she spotted a crack in his armor, same as in Abalys. His eyes narrowed. “Are you…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if shaking away the thought. Iron reforged, he turned to Isla, shoulders back with confidence as he put a hand over his heart. “Alright, Warrior Princess.”
Though she would’ve typically given him a deadpan look, Isla offered him a smile. “It’s queen now, actually.”
Sebastian’s laugh was boisterous, echoing within the space. Isla didn’t mind if it would draw the bak back. He reached forward to ruffle her hair, leaving her with one Luna Pudge before throwing himself into a shift and darting back up the tunnel.
After that, Isla wasted no more time. She claimed her wolf, the sounds of her snapping and cracking, groaning and knitting briefly filling the cavern. Stretching out her wolf’s limbs, she shook out her fur, letting the power, strength, and peace overrun her body before the ferocity did.
There was a tap at her mental wall.
Oh no.
Another tap—then a pounding.
Bracing herself, she brought the barrier down.
“Isla.”
She nearly broke hearing Kai’s voice, edged with panic. Over her or—
In an instant, she felt him shift, too.
Any opening ceremonies and formalities must’ve ended. The fight was about to start.
“Kai.”
“Where are you?” His tone was a growl.
If she told him he’d try to leave, he’d worry more. It would distract him, and she couldn’t describe it if she tried. Rhydian and Ameera would get here if worst came to worst. It would all be okay.
“They’re coming,” the killer muttered, tightening their hold on their blade.
Isla tried to keep herself as calm as possible. “It’s just a run. I—I couldn’t sit in there.” Horrible. She should’ve been in there to support him. “I love you.”
Something changed within the bond before she could say anything else. Overwhelming and powerful, it nearly stole her breath away.
It had started.
He was fighting.
He would walk out alive or die right there. She may never see him again. Never hear him. Never—
The hurried scrape of nails against stone cut her panicked thoughts off, and Isla slammed that mental door closed and launched herself from the passageway’s mouth.
The bak weren’t expecting them at all or from above. With the element of surprise, both Isla and the killer made quick work of two of them, a clean, deep slice from their blade and a ferocious tearing from Isla’s maw. Black blood sprayed, splattering on her fur, among the crystal, and then flowed steadily down the rock. But as she spat out the acrid flesh of the first beast she’d killed, Isla saw, to her horror, that they’d gained a friend.
Two more stood before them.
Shit.
She had to be quick.
Isla had faced the beasts more times than many by now, and though it was still a challenge, she was growing used to the rapid thinking, the movements. How they always swept down with their claws, never up. How they rooted themselves to lunge for their attacks. How they couldn’t see past a certain point in their vision. Their weaknesses.
While Isla’s wolf was large, they were grander, and the crossroads had limited space for the four of them to fit. So, Isla lunged, forcing her bak to fall back into its companion, leading to enough of a slip that she found her opening.
She leaped for the monster’s throat, sending it toppling back, making it ram into the other, pushing it to the side.
A mistake.
A horrible mistake, she realized while tearing through her bak’s neck.
Because behind her, she heard a cry, a roar, a clank of metal, and a thud.
She whipped around from the dead beast beneath her and found the killer clutching their side, their hand soaked in dark blood, not of a bak but their own. There was a slice through their side, revealing pale skin beneath, scarred and welted.
They were on the ground, and the bak was closing in on them. It was also injured, bleeding from a wound where its thick neck and front shoulder met. Not deep enough to kill.
Isla only had a few seconds to act, bounding forward to get the bak just as it lunged to feast. It may have been vengeance or pride that had her maintaining a hold on the beast’s neck, allowing it to think it had a chance before she let its blood run like a river with the others. Growling, she pulled, and it fell in a heap atop one of its brethren.
Isla stopped and listened down each path, pushing through the adrenaline and rush in her ears, past the scent of gore and death, for any other sounds, any scents. But there was nothing but trickling blood and water, heavy breathing, and the faintest crow of a crowd.
They were still fighting. Was that good or bad? She wouldn’t let herself be concerned by it. Wouldn’t peek through that door or check the bond.
Isla spun, just as the killer fought to sit up against the wall.
And with their movement. With their movement —
The hood of their cloak fell, their scarf tugging away.
And Isla was staring at the pained, paling, bruised, and scarred face of her mother.