Chapter 19
VESSA
Outside my window, I hear the shuffling and chattering of a large unit of warriors assembling in the sopping wet quad. Clutching my coffee mug, I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and rest my elbows on the railing of my balcony.
Facing the Great Lodge, three lines form with shirtless young men and women in cropped nylon shirts.
One is led by Qinnu, the second is a handful of female archers headed by Nell, and Tesni’s unit occupies the third.
As the low visibility starts to lift, I can make out the familiar face of Tripp, who awaits the instructions of his poised Sentinel.
She lifts her chin to the sky, rain pelting against her hardened expression.
Butterflies beat their wings in my stomach when I spot Axe.
Striding through the quad in only a pair of shorts, the Alpha before his pack is unfazed by the damp cold or the way his wet hair clings to his brow.
His bare form is a lethal instrument, packed with rigid muscle, torso coated in tattoos and miscellaneous scars. His legs—oh gods, his legs . . .
Mangled, leathery scar tissue extends from his shins to his feet.
It's all I can do not to shudder, not to imagine the pain. But as I take in the faces of the elite fighters who face him, watching with admiration, I hush those thoughts. Long ago, Axe bested those flames. And then he absorbed their wrath.
Tripp approaches his Commander along with another young recruit from Qinnu’s unit who is summoned next. Axe motions for the other cadets to back up, clearing space for the two grunts to face each other.
“The purpose of today’s sparring is to determine which of you will join Tesni on her reconnaissance mission. In four days, you will head north to seek what remains of the portal. This time of year, daylight is scarce and storms are ruthless.”
Portal? What portal? At the realization, my stomach caves in. Holy shit. He’s sending them to the dormant portal which conceals the gates of Somnium. Gates that can only be opened if my blood is spilled upon them.
For a moment, Axe scans the three formations. Every face remains stoic.
“Make no mistake, this mission is dangerous. Vampires don’t typically gather in the Circle where human prey isn’t high in supply, but if you do find them, they will be starving.
As will the qi’yovar. These demons will not hesitate to spill your blood,” Axe continues, “and they will not waste a drop of it if they catch you.”
Qinnu bellows to the units, standing the tallest among all the fighters. He too, bares more abdominal muscles than I have fingers. “The creed—say it together now!”
The wolves repeat in unison. “We bleed only for each other, never for our enemies.”
“Again!”
Chills ripple down my spine as this time, the words are spoken sharper, like clinging blades. The three lines stomp their feet in unison, followed by a chorus of howling.
Finally, a grin crosses the leader’s face. “Alright, pups. Let’s see how bad you want it.”
Tripp sizes up his opponent, a boy of the same age and build with fire in his eyes. Axe calls out for them to begin, and Tripp unleashes himself. Becoming a golden wolf with a brown muzzle, he collides with the other fighter, teeth first. Tesni’s lips curl into a rare smile.
Tripp stands out after winning his first fight, capable of speed to meet a vampire’s in combat.
Next, he faces a seasoned fighter from Qinnu’s ranks, followed by a brief skirmish with Axe, who puts him on the ground in roughly ten seconds.
Out of all the challengers he bests, Tripp is the only one capable of landing a punch on the Alpha.
By mid-morning, dozens of onlookers have gathered for Tesni’s official selection. In her sleek brown wolf form, the captain struts over to Tripp, slashing him in the chest, thereby declaring him the first to join her operation.
Part of me wishes I could join the team, just to burn the godsdamned portal down. I could warn them, but not without blowing my cover. The only thing I can do is pray that the Blood Master doesn’t show. And find a way to prove to the Sentinels that I am worthy of coming along on the next mission.
Axe
While the freshly battered cadets head to lunch, I take off towards the western line of pines, shedding my human form. As my paws pound the cold earth, all I can think of is how badly I want to get Vessa alone.
As we dined together, the image of her in the sparkling dress was still fresh on my mind.
It wasn’t even a full moon, and yet I sat there, body and soul inflamed.
I have no fucking idea how I managed to carry a conversation.
Most of my attention was fixed on the way even a simple garment clung to her curves like a second skin.
The way I could've sworn she purred when I so nearly closed the distance between us, if only to breathe in the heavy, sultry smell of her silent pleading to be touched.
By the end of the evening, my wolf was frenzied, and I wound up chained by Jabir in the pit again.
I don’t know why I ever thought I was prepared to wait this out.
I’ve never grappled with rebellion this fierce.
Never encountered such raw fear of the wolf bursting out of my chest. If I were to let him off the leash even for a moment, I might prove to be the monster Vessa convinced herself she was running from.
Huffing indignantly, I redirect my focus to the quiet terrain. Massive canopies overhead drip rainwater onto my fur. A large moose rubbing his antlers on the trunk of a sizable hemlock clomps away at the sight of me, a reminder that there’s nothing out there that doesn’t fear me in this form.
As I venture deeper into the forest, my ears tune into every slight movement, nose fixating on all the scents around me: pine, dirt, caribou, and my least favorite—a sweaty, arrogant male.
Qinnu catches up to me by a cliff formation, where I brood overlooking the river, watching the melted snow runoff trickle downward. I turn to him with a low growl and raised tail. The Sentinel chuckles, throwing a fresh pair of shorts at my feet.
I tuck the beast in and resign to my natural form, pulling the trousers over my hips.
Qinnu crosses his thick brown arms over his chest. “Someone’s irritable today.”
Irritable is a vast understatement. I’ve never been prone to functioning on a short fuse, but the Beckoning is a state of nonstop chafing.
My wolf is hyper focused, scrutinizing every subtle jab, doubting everyone’s intentions.
Even without its influence, I’m constantly assessing for any hint of disloyalty among those who follow me, while others stare back, wondering if the control I exude on the outside is wound just as tight internally.
Only a select few know the truth—it isn’t.
Looking inside of myself is like walking directly into a hurricane.
I was barely holding my own against the storm before Vessa burst into my life.
Every day is a struggle to contain the winds of rage.
To deny the itch for shedding blood, to abandon my duties and hunt down the monster who nearly caused this pack to crumble.
With every kill, the demand grows stronger.
But, as Demi always reminds me, this pack needs a stable leader, not an avenger.
Next to Qinnu, I stiffen. “You’re considering siding with the elders.”
“That wasn’t where I was going with—silverfire, Axe.
Look, I know that you’re giving Vessa a chance to mull it over for a few weeks.
Just remember that she already ran from you once.
Don’t think for a second that she isn’t capable of leading you on and splitting again.
You don’t smell what the rest of us do. There’s some heavy baggage there, brother. ”
My wolf sneers. It’s not like that with her. She’s just a little skittish.
He’s not wrong. I hit back. She hasn’t exactly been forthcoming about her past. But then again, neither have I.
“It’s infuriating to watch you suffer at the hands of an ungrateful—”
“Careful,” I snarl, cutting him off.
Sighing, Qinnu pumps his brakes.
“I think . . . that she’s starting to lean into me. But damn, it’s taking everything I have not to . . .” Hell no. I’m not finishing that thought out loud. I take a beat to steel my composure. “I only have one shot at this, man. The last thing I want is to lose control.”
Qinnu nods, recalling the feeling all too well.
To this day, I can’t believe that a burly man like him has a drop of patience in his body, let alone the capability to resist answering the Beckoning for almost a year.
That’s what Vessa doesn’t understand. Males get to lay down our mark, but we are at the mercy of the female to initiate.
Until then, we follow them around helplessly, breathing in as much of her scent as she allows.
Begrudgingly, I clear my throat. “How did you push through it?”
He shuffles his feet, staring off into the trees. “Well, at first, it was painfully obvious that she wasn’t the slightest bit interested. That was a hard pill to swallow, but given what she went through, I had to give her some space. It was a miracle that she was even alive.”
I shudder, remembering what I witnessed six years ago in the previous medic’s office.
Eight rolls of bandages were used to cover all the slashes on Cora’s blue-tinted skin, the jagged bites on her arms. I’ll never forget the screams that tore through her when she woke.
How they sounded identical to my mother’s.
When I heard them, I couldn’t breathe. I was pressing myself against the steaming brick walls, sobbing and choking on smoke all over again. Listening to Mother’s last moments as she watched the vampires snatch her baby away.
Qinnu grits his teeth. “I told myself that all those months of waiting in agony were far better than if I had found her dead in that village. All it took was imagining the alternative—if I had never gotten the chance to get to know her, to watch her reclaim her strength.”
The heavy weight of that realization sifts through me. What it would mean to go through the rest of his life without having another soul to latch onto.
“I will say, later, as we gravitated closer to each other, I did have to use a prick of silver to calm myself down. Or force myself to swallow a shot of pickle juice.”
“Yeah right,” I scoff. Pickles were the bane of his existence.
Worse comes to worst, I guess I’ll have to give black licorice a try.
He tosses a stone over the cliff, watching it smash against the sharp rocks below, where water winds through a shady creek. Qinnu squares his shoulders to match mine and slips off his thick jacket and holster.
“C’mon. Obviously, brawling with grunts earlier didn’t blow off enough steam. How about we go a couple rounds?”
If anyone can take it as well as they dish it, it’s this guy.
Tesni can hold her own as well, though I’ve learned to think carefully before initiating a sparring match with her.
Facing off against the Norgsik means no boundaries, no mercy.
Only once have I ever walked away without blades protruding from my body. Always in places where I can’t reach.
Not that Qinnu’s left hook hurts any less.
I channel my rage into wolf form, shredding the shorts. Staring back at me is another black wolf, an equally matched opponent ready to spring into action. Ears are jetted outwards, daring me to strike. Kicking both paws back, I lower my stance. And then I unleash myself.