Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Nox
A sense of danger for Fawn and Eiden presents a pressure at the back of my skull. I shove it down and focus on the task, taking my half-shift battle stag form, donning plate and leather armor, and collecting weapons.
This is not my fastest form—that belongs to the true stag. But all elite warriors with this capability train in this form, so we are ready to call on it when necessary… When there is a battle to come.
Unlike Jude, whose werebeast is more animal than human and comes equipped with lethal claws and teeth that are weapons in their own right, the battle stag is more human than animal, save our size and power are immense. Our heads are that of a stag, but beastly and misshapen: a little shorter in the snout, with our eyes facing forward.
Our own citizens rarely see this side of us save for the occasional ceremony.
And nights like tonight.
I test the weight of my sword before slotting it into the sheath across my back.
“Goddess, have mercy on anyone who gets in our way,” Jude says dryly as he joins Seven and me at the front of the assembled troops. The elite guards who likewise have shifted to their battle stags, nearly fifty in number, are similarly kitted out with weapons and armor. The rest of our forces are split evenly between their stag and human forms, for there are advantages to both. Over many centuries, we have perfected the art of drawing on the best of all our capabilities.
Gideon pushes his way through the assembled ranks to stand at my side. In human form, he wears light armor, a helm tucked under one arm, and his usual sword at his hip.
Jude gives him a piercing look but offers no comment.
It is Gideon’s right as Fawn’s mate to take a place on the front line. As our enemy shall soon find out, size can be deceiving where Gideon is concerned.
It’s time.
Night has fallen. The streets of the capital are absent of life; the good citizens have taken to their homes under curfew as we march out, bound for Wormwood.
The name alone enough to inspire a thousand nightmares. The reality of this desolate place is so much worse. As we near the ancient wooden gates, the sounds of violence rises. The glow of raging fires lights the skies above the fallen district, the crackle of flames, along with the hoots and screams of mayhem.
Closer still, and we hear the steady drum of weapons beating at the gate, the wood rocking under the assault. Several lines of stag warriors are lined up in case they should break through.
They part for us.
We form up.
Seven gives the signal.
A hail of arrows disperses the mob nearest the gate and the pounding stops.
The gates are flung open.
Monsters, crude and horrifying, await us. We charge. The two sides meet, weapons clashing in a giant melee.
The only outcome is life or death.
Cries, screams, hoots and howls, growls and grunts.
We surge inward, cutting down all who stand in our way. They are pushed back, or they fall.
Deep in the midst of this, in the eye of this storm, we shall find Eiden and Fawn.
Fawn
My hands shake as I don the clothes. They smell musty, but I’m glad for the covering.
“Why is that man helping us?” I ask, suspicion coloring my tone.
“I killed his master during my rampage. He appreciated it.” Eiden’s stag jaws widen in the semblance of a grin. He strides over to the shadowy corner. Here, he hefts a giant sword in his hand that I only notice now was tucked against the wall. “This was his master’s sword. Now, my sword.”
I question what creature he might have stolen it from, for it is immense.
Then I question what this makes Eiden to have battled him to claim it.
“What?” he asks, staring down at me through those strange, whirling winter blue eyes.
I am battered and bloody, filthy, and wearing rags, but a small smile finds my lips. I lift up onto my tiptoes, put my arms around his neck, and pull him down so I can kiss his strange, beastly lips.
A low, rumbly sound emanates from his chest. He stoops and hoists me up with his free hand under my ass. I wrap my arms tighter around him and bury my nose against his deeply furred neck. He is huge, fierce, and protective. His usual scent has a strange yet compelling smoky undertone.
He is magnificent. How could his brothers ever call him weak? They were fools and they have paid the price. If only they could have seen the wonder that is all sides of Eiden, how their herd would have prospered and been the richer. Instead, they allowed prejudice to jaundice their eyes. That they underestimated him cost them their lives.
“How will they find us,” I ask, anxiety making a knot low in my belly as I realize he intends for us to leave this room.
“Do you remember that time when Nox and I were with you in your nest?” Eiden asks.
Heat floods my cheeks. “How could I forget? But I don’t understand?”
“Nox can sense strong emotions from me. He can sense when I need him. They are inside the city now. He will be coming for me… They will all be coming for us. But we are too deep underground, too deep in the city. They will never get to us. We have to meet them halfway. We have to go out into Wormwood.”
Nox
We push ever deeper, sending the criminal thugs scattering to their lairs, trusting in Seven’s ancient knowledge of this place and instincts beyond our comprehension to guide us in this.
Fires burn, and weapons continue to clash amid the rush and roar of men and monsters battling. I lose myself in the flow, empty my mind and thoughts, allowing instincts to take over. Ahead of me are Seven and Jude…to my right, Gideon.
A prickling sensation comes first.
Then the long-established connection to Eiden blazes like a beacon in my mind.
I feel him… only he is different.
A grin spreads across my face as I cut down the crazed beast with the head of a hog and the body of a human.
“I have found them!” I roar.
Seven’s head swings my way. Gideon, armor dripping with blood, his helm long gone, pulls up at my side.
“Guide us,” Seven says.
Fawn
I’m terrified. This tiny room with a cot and lamp represents safety of a kind. I don’t want to leave it. But I also know that I must. Our mates are out there, fighting to get to us.
We have to meet them halfway.
Eiden opens the door. With my hand held tightly in his left hand and the sword in his right, we step outside.
The strange, crab-handed man is waiting. “This way,” he says, bowing. “I will take you to the street.”
We splash along a maze of wet stone tunnels, climb iron ladders, and traverse yet more tunnels. Doors lead off left and right. Sometimes, the ceiling is high and the passages wide, and sometimes, they are so low, even I must stoop. A sense of claustrophobia crawls under my skin—I did not realize how deep we had gone.
Just as my panic is about to consume me, we enter a wooden structure that appears to be a warehouse.
Beyond the grimy windows, I see flames.
“I feel him,” Eiden says. “He is coming.”
“Good luck,” our curious benefactor says, and then he removes a sturdy wooden bar from the door, and we step out into the cold streets and bedlam.
Eiden
A mob is hurtling past us, moving from the left to right. The door has barely shut on us when a thug shoulder barges me. I shove Fawn behind me and parry his blow.
Fawn screams.
My fist swings up. A crack follows as it connects with his jaw, lifting him off his feet and then crashing to the ground.
To the right, a roof collapses in a blazing building, burning wood and embers crashing to the narrow, cobbled street. It breaks up the crazed mob and scatters every which way.
“Eiden!”
“I know.”
A fight breaks out among those fleeing. I yank Fawn out of their way, ducking into a neighboring doorway. I shove the nearest man aside, his trips, and the others fall on him. I don’t wait around to watch, pushing away from the wall and barging my way through the fleeing tide of monsters and humans.
My mind is hyper-focused, alert to the danger but also the pull .
We run a zigzag path between the rabble until we reach the corner. A break in the rush allows me to orient myself. There, in the distance, is the dome of the palace. “See the dome?”
“Yes,” Fawn says, breathless, her eyes wide.
She is so fucking brave. I am heartbroken that I’m the cause of her being here. “If we head for the dome, it will lead us toward the gate.”
“Okay,” she says. “We can make it. We have to.”
We press on, heading steadily northeast, dodging trouble where we can and fighting where I must.
A crossroads is looming. I can no longer see the dome for guidance, but instinct tells me we are nearing Nox, and where Nox is, so will the others be.
A distant horn sounds.
“What is that?” Fawn asks.
“Our horn. We are getting close.”
But before we reach the crossroads, a great thrum rises. A cacophony of terror is approaching us fast.
We come to a skidding stop.
I try the nearest door— locked . I try another. Also locked.
“Eiden, they are coming!”
I put my shoulder to the next door. It gives. I stumble into a hovel where a troll sits nursing a giant club.
“Fuck!” I back up, keeping Fawn behind me.
Her sudden scream has me spinning to find a thug has her arm.
My fist slams into his face. He releases her and crumples to the floor, but another man is on me… and the pissed-off troll is charging with a roar.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I cannot block both,
The second thug swings his crude sword, but the troll’s club whistles through the air, coming for me.
The point of a sword suddenly pierces the thug’s throat from behind, just as a dark, furred blur flies past and slams into the troll, bowling him back into his home.
Claws slash, and blood sprays.
As the dead thug slips graceless to the ground, Gideon yanks out his sword.
“Gideon! Wolf!” Fawn’s cry redirects both men’s attention from the fallen prey. Jude pivots faster, takes a single leap, and swings her into his arms.
“Finally,” Jude rumbles just as a blood-splattered Seven and Nox rush in beside Gideon, chests heaving.
Nox gives me an up-down look and smirks.
Only now do I realize he has never seen this form…
No one has.
Even I did not know it existed.
“Wow!” Gideon says.
“Sound the retreat, Gideon,” Seven commands. “Fall back, everyone.”
Gideon steps out into the street and lifts the horn at his belt to his lips.
The three short toots sound the retreat.
I have never heard a sweeter sound.