Chapter 2 — Rhiannon
The scent of his fear spikes sharply. Adrenaline, sweat — the raw scent of prey that calls to the predator in me. I expect my mouth to water as my wolf responds to the hunt. Instead, she whines in protest, shoving against my consciousness harder than she ever has.
No! Mine.
Why this resistance now? Why this human? My wolf has never hesitated before a kill, and I am a fierce warrior, ruthless in protecting our pack.
A deep, instinctual pull rebels against harming him, even as my rational mind knows it’s the only solution to protect our kind. We can’t allow humans to know of our existence.
I reel back my clawed hand, ready to strike him across the throat.
“Commander, no!” Branson shouts. “Wait!”
“What?” My hand drops an inch, my sword still leveled. I’d just steeled myself to kill this human.
“Look at this.” He holds a dusty framed photo up to my face. It’s a picture of the man I’m now choking. He’s standing in a parking lot in front of a building with many windows and a neon sign above them that reads “Diner”. He’s smiling, his green eyes catching the sun gleaming on his chestnut hair.
Beside him is an unmistakable young woman with white-blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. . .Luna Thea? She’s grinning ear-to-ear and making that stupid V-shape with her fingers that she always does. Both of them are in matching blue uniforms, him in pants, her in a skirt.
I glare at my captive, loosening my grip just enough so he can speak. “Who the hell are you? How do you know our Luna?”
He just stares with terror on his face.
“Who are you?” I repeat.
“E-Ethan” is all he can utter.
Akila leans in close, studying the photo. “Hmmm. . .he knows our Luna. They look like they’re friends.” She looks back at me. “This complicates things.”
“Commander, perhaps you should let him down,” Branson says. “He can’t answer questions if he can’t breathe.”
I bite down hard and let him go. Ethan crumples to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat. My wolf exhales something I don’t have words for, a release so sharp it catches me off guard. Red marks from my fingers stand out against his skin, and something I don’t want to name tightens in my gut.
“Back up,” I order, drawing my sword and pointing it at his chest. “No sudden movements.”
Ethan scoots backward until he hits the wall, eyes fixed on the blade. His breathing steadies, but fear still pours off him, thick and sharp. The scent is both a lure and a warning, and I can’t decide which one my wolf hates more.
“Now,” I press the tip of my sword against his sternum, “explain yourself. How do you know Luna Thea?”
His head snaps up at her name. “Thea? You know Thea?” Hope flickers across his face, momentarily eclipsing his fear. “Is she okay?”
I push the sword tip a fraction deeper. “I’m asking the questions. How do you know her?”
He swallows. Raw emotion crosses his face. “We worked together at Cid’s Diner. We were friends. Good friends. She disappeared almost a year ago without a trace.”
I give him a sharp look. “And you’re in her apartment because...?”
“I’ve been maintaining it. Paying her rent, watering her plants, keeping it ready for if—when she comes back.”
“For a year?” Akila asks skeptically.
Ethan nods, that glimmer of hope returning to his face again. “Do you know who took her? Is she safe?”
The sincerity in his voice makes something twist inside me. His loyalty snags my wolf’s attention in a way I don’t appreciate, and I shove her interest aside.
“No one ‘took’ her.” I step back, lowering my sword slightly.
“Well, technically. . .” Akila chimes in.
“Akila!” I warn her against revealing too much before looking at the human again. “Your friend is exactly where she wants to be.”
“So, she’s alive? She’s okay?” His gaze combs my face, slow and deliberate. Something about it roots me to the spot. Is he . . . reading me? Is he a Shaman?
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “You’ve seen what we are. You can’t be allowed to live.”
The color drains from his face again. “What? No! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! Who would believe me anyway? Please. . .”
I scoff, pressing the tip of my blade into his chest again. “And I’m supposed to trust the word of a human?”
“Commander, a word?” Branson’s deep voice draws my attention as he motions me away from Ethan.
“Don’t move,” I say to the man as I reluctantly step back, keeping my sword pointed at him.
“Perhaps killing him would be politically unwise,” Branson says.
“Politics.” The word comes out sharp, almost a laugh. “He could risk exposing the existence of our kind!”
“He might be. . .sentimental to our Luna.”
“Or he could mean nothing to her.” I turn away. “She’s made no mention of him during her time in Kortan.”
Branson gives me a look. “She has a framed photo of the two of them in her home. He has access to her residence.”
“But he’s seen us.”
Branson drops his voice, though Akila is close enough to hear every word.
“Think about it,” he reasons. “This human clearly means something to our Luna. If we kill him, how will that look? Especially given your...history with Alpha Xander.”
The implication lands hard. “You think she’d believe I killed her friend out of jealousy?”
“I think some might interpret it that way,” he says carefully. “At minimum, it would cause the pregnant Luna undue distress to learn her friend died because of her connection to him.”
Ugh. I hate that he’s right. I glance back at Ethan, who’s watching us with wary eyes. “So we just let him go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But, Commander,” Akila finally butts in. “If we let him live, we can’t trust that he won’t reveal—”
Before Akila can finish, the hair sticks up on the back of my neck as Branson moves swiftly to my side.
His fist whizzes past my ear, and I turn just in time to see the punch connect with Ethan’s jaw.
Ethan’s eyes roll back as he slumps to the floor, unconscious.
One of the legs from the coffee table tumbles out of his hand.
Did that idiot just try to attack me?
Branson kicks the table leg away from Ethan and then stands over him, waiting to see if he wakes back up. He doesn’t. He’s out cold. I can still hear his heart beating, so he’ll be fine.
I shake my head. This Ethan human is brave. A fool, but brave. “Branson, find something to tie him up with. I don’t want any more surprises if he wakes up before we’re done.”
He nods and disappears down the hallway.
Akila also stares down at him. “Goddess, help us,” she says, tipping her head back as if the ceiling might answer her, before placing the box she’s been holding on the couch and revealing its contents triumphantly.
“While you two were playing with the human, I was actually fulfilling our mission. One ceramic cat paw and a one-eyed bear.”
“Good.” I place the purple box of photos into Akila’s box as well. “Now we can finally get out of here.”
Branson returns with a belt and some scarves, which he uses to secure Ethan’s wrists and ankles. “What’s the plan, Commander?”
I stare down at Ethan’s unconscious form, mulling over our limited options.
The coppery, biting scent of his blood cuts through the adrenaline still sharp in the air.
We can’t leave him here with knowledge of our kind.
But we can’t kill him without risking my fall from grace.
My wolf won’t settle, circling restlessly, too interested in this human for my comfort.
“We’re taking him,” I announce. Branson and Akila exchange a look of uncertainty, so I add, “Is there a problem?”
“No, of course not, Commander,” Akila says. “But— but you know the law. Humans are banned from Clarion—.”
“I’m aware.” I toss Thea’s framed photo with the human into Akila’s box. “But choosing between the exposure of our existence to humans or killing the friend of our pregnant Luna is above my paygrade. Let Alpha Xander decide what to do with him.”
When I turn around, Branson has two potted plants in his hands. “What are you doing?”
“Commander, may we take these?” he asks thoughtfully. The plants appear surprisingly healthy given how long they’ve been without their owner.
“They weren’t on the list—” I start to protest.
“Our Luna likely assumed they died after her departure,” he explains. “The fact that this human kept them alive all this time... She would appreciate the gesture.”
I sigh heavily. “Fine. Take the damn plants too, but put them in the box. You have to carry the human. Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
Akila rearranges Luna’s belongings carefully before gathering the box into her arms. Branson effortlessly hoists the unconscious human over his shoulder like a bundle of wheat.
A growl starts low in my throat, possessive and entirely unwelcome. I stifle it before it can surface. Why does it bother me to see another wolf’s hands on him?
I should be annoyed we’re bringing this human complication back to Clarion, yet my wolf goes still and smug, satisfied in a way I refuse to examine. I shut her out.
This is political self-preservation. Nothing more.
Once we get back to Kortan, he’s Luna Thea’s problem. Her human, her headache.