Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Nero lay awake for a long time cradling Casteel and trying to decide what to do. They had to push on at dawn. Catching food for them would be easy but he had no idea where they were exactly. This wasn’t an area he recognized but he seemed to instinctively know his wolf would guide them.
Nero wasn't stupid. He'd known Casteel was questioning everything without the wolf— his value, Nero's truth. The wolf-soul had brought Nero to the palace but that hadn't kept him there. That was all Casteel. It had been the look in his eyes that had stopped Nero from launching that fatal arrow.
And they weren't life-dependent. Such a strange term because as far as Nero was concerned, he was very life-dependent on Casteel.
He knew Casteel didn't trust that even after last night.
Nero had doubted everything. The bond. His attraction.
For long enough there had been the threat to Casteel's life keeping Nero by his side… or had it?
Let me go.
They had been Maya's last words. She'd lain in a pool of blood on a dusty road while he had been pointlessly trying to save some crops to get them through the coming winter.
He'd raced to her when he was told, but broken every promise to her.
Their vows had promised protection, respect, and truth.
Love was never counted as important in their world.
But he'd failed to protect her, and she'd died for that.
She'd died on a filthy road in a heap of blood.
There could never be any respect in that.
Let me go. Her last request. Except he hadn't honored it, which was just another lie.
He'd turned their love and truth into hate and revenge.
Maya would never want others to die in her name but every arrow he loosed was coated in revenge.
Simply to make him feel better, not to honor her.
Until Casteel.
His chest hurt. He'd used every word for Casteel except the one he really should have.
He loved—truly loved—Casteel with everything in him, and he knew Maya would approve.
Probably tease him. It took you long enough.
Then why couldn't he have said it last night when he was baring his secrets?
Cowardice? Was he frightened Casteel would never love him back?
That all Nero was to Casteel was a powerful shield that once the war was over he wouldn't need?
Except Casteel had voiced nearly that very fear last night.
That Nero would no longer need him. What had stopped him?
Why couldn't he give that final declaration? His own fear? Was he such a coward?
Dawn broke with pale fingers of light stretching through the cave entrance. Nero had barely slept, his newly enhanced senses alert to every forest sound, every shift in the air. The wolf within him paced restlessly, urging movement, action, protection. Beside him, Casteel slept deeply.
Gently, Nero disentangled himself and moved to the cave entrance.
The forest spread below them, mist clinging to the valleys like spider webs.
His heightened vision picked out details that would have been invisible before—a hawk circling nearly a mile away, the subtle movement of deer through distant underbrush, the glint of morning sun on what might be a stream.
And something else—the faint, metallic gleam of armor moving through the trees far below. Silver Guard. Still searching, still hunting. Once again he marveled at his heightened senses the wolf gave him even on two legs not four.
"Are they still following us?" came Casteel's voice from behind him, sleep-rough but alert.
Nero turned to find his mate sitting up, hair tousled from sleep, eyes squinting slightly in the morning light. Without the wolf's enhanced vision, Casteel would be unable to see what Nero could—a realization that twisted something painful in his chest.
"We need to move," Nero said, returning to gather their meager belongings. "I can hunt something for breakfast as we travel."
Casteel nodded, rising with careful movements that betrayed how his muscles ached from yesterday's exertion. And probably last night's. Nero should feel guilt over that, but he was at least honest enough with himself to puff his chest out a little. He'd cared for his mate yesterday in all ways.
"Which way?" Casteel asked as they emerged from the cave into the crisp mountain air.
Nero closed his eyes, letting the wolf's instincts guide him.
Something pulled him northward, a sense of direction that seemed embedded in the magic he now carried.
"This way," he said, pointing toward a ridge that rose against the morning sky.
"There's a path through those peaks that should lead us toward Morven's estate. "
They set off at a steady pace, Nero deliberately moderating his stride to accommodate Casteel's endurance.
The forest thinned as they climbed higher, giving way to rocky slopes dotted with hardy mountain pines.
Twice Nero paused to listen, his enhanced hearing picking up distant sounds of pursuit, but the Silver Guard remained far behind them, following false trails laid the previous day.
By midmorning, hunger had become a pressing concern. Casteel hadn't complained, but Nero could sense his fatigue growing with each step. When they crossed a small mountain stream, Nero called a brief halt.
"Rest here," he said, helping Casteel settle on a sun-warmed boulder. "I'll find us food."
Casteel nodded, too exhausted to argue. Through their bond, Nero felt a flicker of frustration—his mate hated feeling like a burden, but there was no denying his human limitations. Nero had been different even when purely human because of his immense body strength. Casteel worried him.
"Be quick," Casteel said, his eyes scanning the forest edge nervously.
Nero squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before shifting and melting into the underbrush.
The wolf's hunting instincts guided him effortlessly—within minutes, he had spotted a mountain hare frozen in the shadow of a juniper bush.
His movements were preternaturally swift as he closed the distance and made the kill with merciful efficiency.
Returning to the stream, he found Casteel had removed his boots to soak his blistered feet in the cold water, and was huddled in his cloak. The sight sent a pang through Nero's chest as he shifted back.
"Not much," Nero said, displaying his catch, "but it will give us strength."
They ate in companionable silence after Nero prepared and cooked the hare with practiced skill.
The meat was lean but nourishing, and Nero made sure Casteel took the larger portion despite his protests, pointing out he was capable of shifting and eating another raw if he had to.
Not that he relished the thought and the wrinkle in Casteel's nose after Nero had told him that was completely adorable.
If they weren't being hunted by deranged mercenaries and if Casteel's feet didn't hurt, strange as it seemed Nero might enjoy this freedom.
"We should reach the ridgeline by nightfall," Nero said as they resumed their journey. "From there, we should see Morven's valley. Another day's travel, perhaps."
The path grew steeper as they ascended, winding between massive boulders and along precipitous ledges.
Nero moved with instinctive sureness, his enhanced senses warning him of loose stones or unstable ground.
Behind him, Casteel followed more cautiously, occasionally accepting a steadying hand when the terrain proved challenging.
It was near late afternoon when Nero froze, his head lifting as he caught a scent on the breeze—metal, leather, horses, and the distinctive musk of men who had traveled hard for days. The wolf within him growled a warning.
"What is it?" Casteel whispered, instantly alert to the change in Nero's posture.
"Ambush," Nero replied, his voice barely audible. "Ahead and to our right. At least eight men, maybe more."
Through their bond, he felt Casteel's surge of fear that he quickly mastered. "Silver Guard?"
"No," Nero said, nostrils flaring as he processed the unfamiliar scents. "Different armor. Different weapons. Not Doran's men."
"Mercenaries," Casteel guessed. "Hired hunters."
Nero nodded grimly. The Silver Guard were born of fanatics, but they were also conspicuous.
"Can we go around them?" Casteel asked, already scanning for alternative routes.
Nero shook his head. "They've positioned themselves at a natural chokepoint. The only other path would take us back down into the valley—directly toward the Silver Guard patrols."
Casteel's jaw tightened. "Then we fight," Casteel said, drawing the dagger Nero had given him.
Nero's expression darkened as he assessed their situation. "There are too many. Even with the wolf's strength, I can't take them all at once, not while protecting you."
"I can fight," Casteel insisted, though they both knew the truth—even when he had the wolf he wasn't a fighter.
Nero turned to him, his eyes flashing silver in the midday sun. "Listen to me. When I engage them, you run. There's a game trail about fifty yards back—it branches east toward those pines. Follow it as far as you can until I find you."
"I won't leave you," Casteel protested, reaching for Nero's arm.
"You must." Nero's voice was gentle but implacable. "If they take us both, Doran will use you to control me. My wolf needs to ensure your safety above all else." He pressed his forehead briefly against Casteel's. "I'll find you. I promise."
Before Casteel could argue further, the ambushers made their move.
Eight men in mismatched armor emerged from their concealment, spreading out in a practiced formation designed to cut off escape.
Their leader, a scarred veteran with a shock of white hair, stepped forward with the confidence of someone accustomed to violence.