Chapter 16
DASKA
Ipositioned the heavy stone sledge above the pole while Rivik braced his weight against it, his hands gripping the wood with the kind of careful precision that made me think he was concentrating harder than the task required.
The storm the previous evening hadn't been as bad as many of the others we'd experienced over the last few years, but the wind had torn three of the hide panels loose during the night, leaving the central fire pit exposed to the elements.
Spring storms weren't unusual, but this year, they seemed to have increased in both regularity and intensity.
When Rivik had asked me to help him with repairs this morning, I'd agreed immediately.
My strength was useful for work like this, and truthfully, I'd been hoping for a chance to spend time with him.
He'd been distant lately, harder to reach.
"Ready?" I asked.
"If you miss and crush my hands, I will make you explain to Sira how you damaged your alpha."
"Your hands or your pride?"
"Both are equally valuable."
I snorted and brought the sledge down in a controlled arc. The impact shuddered through the pole, into his arms. I watched him absorb it, saw his jaw tighten slightly. The post sank another hand's width into the earth.
"Again," he said, adjusting his grip.
Another strike. Then another. We fell into the rhythm of it—him steadying, me pounding, working in the efficient silence that came from years of partnership.
Around us, the pack moved through their morning routines.
Children chased each other between the shelters.
Hunters prepared for the day's patrol. The scent of cooking meat drifted from the communal fire.
Normal. Peaceful.
But something felt wrong. Rivik's mood was clearly off.
"You are distracted," I said, pausing mid-swing.
"I am focused on not losing my fingers."
"Your fingers are fine. Your mind is elsewhere." I set down the sledge, studying him. I'd known him long enough to recognize when something was eating at him. "You have been elsewhere since yesterday."
He released the pole, flexing his hands. "The storm damaged more than the fire pit. We lost part of the root storage. Three hides are beyond repair. And the eastern patrol reported fresh tracks. Wolf tracks, but not ours."
"So assign wolves to repair the storage. Trade for new hides at the next gathering. Double the eastern patrol." I picked up the sledge again, moving to the next pole that needed reinforcement. "These are simple problems, brother. They do not require this level of brooding intensity."
"I do not brood."
"You invented brooding." I positioned the sledge, waiting for him to brace the pole. "When we were cubs, you would sit by the river for hours, staring at the water like it held answers to questions no one had asked."
"I was thinking."
"You were brooding." I brought the sledge down with more force than necessary. The pole shuddered. "And you are doing it again now."
He said nothing, just focused on keeping the pole steady as I struck it twice more. The repetitive work was almost meditative. Lift, brace, strike, adjust.
I wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like to carry the weight he carried. To have every decision, every problem, every pack member's wellbeing resting on your shoulders alone.
"Do you remember," I said, pausing to wipe sweat from my brow despite the cold, "when you convinced me to help you 'reinforce' the elder's den?"
Despite whatever was troubling him, his mouth twitched. "We were reinforcing it."
"We collapsed half the roof."
"The structure was already unstable."
"The structure was fine until you decided it needed your help." I grinned, remembering the chaos. "Old Makris chased us through three valleys. I have never seen you run so fast."
"I was motivated."
"You were terrified." I chuckled. "He caught you anyway. Made you rebuild the entire den by yourself while I 'recovered' from my 'injuries.'"
"You were not injured."
"My pride was wounded. It counted." I set down the sledge, stretching my shoulders. "You never told him I was involved."
"Made no sense in getting us both in trouble."
"Still. You took the punishment yourself." I felt my expression soften. "You have always done that. Taken the weight. Shouldered the burden. Protected everyone else."
He turned away, moving to check the tension on the hide panels we'd already secured. His shoulders were rigid, his movements careful.
"Someone has to," he said quietly.
"Yes. But not always alone."
I moved closer, studying him. Something was definitely wrong. I could see it in the tension of his jaw, the way his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Talk to me," I said. "Not as the healer. As your brother."
He sighed. "A young female arrived yesterday from the Birch Lake pack. Her tale was not a good one."
"Is she ok? Do I need to…" I was already laying down my tools, turning towards my hearth where my healing supplies were.
"She's fine, Kessa took her in. Minor scrapes, nothing Kessa can't handle."
I nodded, turning back and sitting down on one of the smooth rocks we'd placed around the fire pit for our meetings.
"Why had she come so far alone? Birch Lake is four days from here."
He sat down next to me, catching the end of a leather thong that hung from his belt, twisting it in his hands. The nervous gesture was so unlike him that my concern deepened.
"Birch Lake Pack is gone. Broken Ridge raided them, took the pups and the females, killed everyone else. Cera managed to escape and get here."
The words landed in the cold morning air and sat there. I stared at him.
"All of them," I said finally. It wasn't a question.
"All of them." His hands stilled on the leather thong. "The males who fought. The ones who were too old or too young to be useful to Karik. Gone."
“Great Mother…” I muttered, horror and sadness sweeping over me, closely followed by rage.
"The packs at the gathering have to listen to us now, they must take action.
Karik cannot remain unchecked, and yet summer gathering is four moon cycles from now.
How do I stand by and watch Karik inflict more suffering on smaller packs without interfering?
" asked Rivik, and I could hear the note of desperation in his voice.
"So, maybe we take the strongest of us and interfere," I said, hearing the hard edge in my own voice. "No one here supports Karik, no one of importance anyhow. I imagine we'd get plenty of volunteers."
"We can't take on Broken Ridge Pack, Daska.
Not without the backing of the other major packs.
It would open the packs up to war, and they would be forced to take sides.
I would be endangering everyone here. I hate what happened to Birch Lake, but I can't endanger our people either.
I… I don't know what to do." He sighed, and I heard the exhaustion in it.
"I know that I have twenty-three wolves who would follow me into Broken Ridge territory tomorrow if I asked it of them.
I also know that I would be sending some of them to their deaths, and the ones who came home would return to a pack facing reprisals from every ally Karik has managed to buy or bully into loyalty.
" He stared into the fire. "Knowing what you want to do and knowing what you can do are very different things. "
I was quiet for a long moment, trying to find words that might help. The fire crackled between us, and somewhere across camp, a child shrieked with laughter, the sound impossibly cheerful against the weight of what he'd just said.
"You will find a way," I said finally. "You always do."
"That is not wisdom. That is optimism."
"Sometimes they are the same thing."
"The third pole," he said, standing up. "We should get on."
I watched him deflect, recognizing the wall going back up. But I didn't push. I just stood, picked up the sledge and moved to the next post, waiting for him to brace it.
We worked in silence for several more strikes. I could see his hands were starting to ache from the vibration, but he didn't complain. He never did.
"How is she?" he asked suddenly.
I paused mid-swing, caught off guard by the question and the odd tension in his voice. "Ellie?"
He nodded, not looking at me.
Something warm unfurled in my chest at the thought of her.
"Stronger each day. The infection is fully cleared.
She helped me prepare poultices yesterday…
" I paused, remembering the way she'd smiled at me, the gentleness of her touch.
"She has gentle hands. Patient. She ground the herbs so fine even Kessa was impressed. "
"And the others?" His voice was carefully neutral. "The male with the broken leg?"
"Dev. He mends well. He's managing to walk further every day, though he still needs the walking staff for now, and he tires easily." I brought the sledge down again, feeling the post sink deeper. "The other two keep to themselves. I… I'll admit, I am concerned for the female."
"How so?"
I paused, choosing my words carefully. "The male, Nathan—he has something, something he works on every day.
It seems important, though I'll admit, from what I've seen, I could not tell you what it is or what it is made from.
He's very focused on it. But I've noticed they do not spend any time trying to integrate themselves.
The wounded male, Dev—he is making good attempts at learning words. I think Ellie has been teaching him."
"And?" Rivik's voice had an edge to it now.