Chapter 36
VESSA
The Tilaak are under attack.
Our small cabin bubble bursts with those five words.
Axe’s breathing hollows as he lowers the weapon. With one look at me, he springs into action. Peeling off his long-sleeved shirt, he hands it to me. “Put this on and let down your hair. We need to cover your scent.”
I do as he says, a tremor coursing through my body.
He tosses his keys to the tallest patrol officer. “Start my truck.” Then he turns to Tripp. “Take a lap around the house. Check all points of entry.”
They both answer with a prompt “Yes, sir,” leaving me alone with the Alpha. He cups my face. The rapid rise and fall of his chest indicate that he’s primed to shift.
“Listen closely,” he murmurs.
Tears prick my eyes. “Take me with y—”
“Listen,” he growls over me. “Upstairs, behind my grandfather’s portrait, there is a safe, stocked with guns and ammunition. The moment I leave, you run up there and get what you need, do you understand?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good girl. The combination is two, forty-nine, fourteen. Now repeat that back to me.”
“Two, forty-nine, fourteen.”
He rewards me with a brief but savage kiss on the mouth.
Tripp reappears at the doorstep. “All clear.”
Fuming, Axe grips him by the shirt. “Protect the Luna with your life, cadet. That’s an order.”
When he releases him, he doesn’t look back at me. He sprints to the truck, slamming on the gas. Inhaling deeply, I reach for Nell’s words of assurance and race for the stairs. A mate doesn’t say goodbye unless he believes he won’t return.
My stiff legs ache, groin clenching. My muscles have been pushed to the point of exhaustion over the last twenty-four hours. The exertion of ascending the stairs is almost too much.
Sure enough, the upper right corner of the portrait creaks and swings forward, giving way to a rotating three-wheel combination safe lock.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I come face to face with the dial, rotating the knob clockwise to land on the first number, two.
I switch directions for the second number, and just as I set the dial on the third, a startling commotion jerks me away.
The thumping sound of a body colliding with the side of the house.
Shit.
My hands tremble as I try the combination a second time, once again failing as I struggle to steady the dial.
Breathe, Ves. You can do this.
On the third attempt, I am through. The stowaway box contains stacks of cash, passports, and an entire rack full of various handguns and magazines.
With no time to be picky, I opt for a small pistol and quickly shove the magazine in its designated compartment, cramming a spare in my pocket before shutting the door.
Multiple snarls from the other side of the window tear through the silent house.
I don’t dare to look outside to who—or what—is clashing out there.
Clamping one hand over my mouth I remind myself to breathe steadily as I pull back the safety with the other.
When I’ve managed to still the rattling in my limbs, I extend my arms, holding the weapon out in front of me, slowly tiptoeing down the stairs.
When I hear shuffling in the kitchen, I force myself to shove down my terror. Thinning my breaths, my index finger slips into position, readying to curl around the trigger the second I turn the corner.
A naked female’s back faces me as she reaches for the phone strapped to the wall, rapidly dialing. Sensing me, she turns over her shoulder, gasping. “Oh, thank the Goddess. It’s you.”
Gemma. I release my breath, retracting my finger and lowering the gun.
Shaking her head, she dials the phone number again.
Blood is spattered on her face, caked into her hair.
Her nasally voice chokes up. “A rogue just showed out of nowhere. He almost mauled the guys to shreds . . . I’m trying to get a hold of Nell, but there’s no reception. She should be here by now.”
Oh, no.
“Tripp—is he?”
“He’ll bleed out if help doesn’t come.”
Panicking, I snatch the hanging dishtowels. “Where is he? I’ll go and—”
Gemma’s eyes shift to something over my shoulder. A warm hand clamps over my curled fingers, clutching the gun.
When I try to whirl, another hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off my scream with a rag. The gun clatters to the floor, instantly going off. A bullet launches itself into the wood cabinet, just barely missing the cadet.
“Watch it!” she chides the person who latches on to me tightly as I squirm. But the more I struggle, the thicker and sourer the air becomes. Thrashing does nothing against the strong arms that constrict my ribs.
Gemma pulls open the silverware drawer, grabs a knife, and severs the phone cord. It’s the last thing I see as I’m dragged away, the world spiraling and giving way to black fog.
Axe
My feet thump against the pebbled beach as I race for the compound. The moon glistens above the river, its milky beams highlighting the rippling waters. A faint splash about a hundred yards out flags my attention. One that could only be made by a bobbing head.
This fucker is trying to hide out underwater.
Steering towards the riverbank, I force my legs into overdrive, leaping into the water before the vampire reaches a depth beyond my grasp.
Instantly, I’m met with murky visibility and piercing cold pressure.
I dive deeper, fighting against the current.
And after a few seconds, I see it—the flapping coat.
My teeth clamp down on the vampire’s elbow and I thrust the two of us up to the surface.
He writhes and kicks like hell, but my canines only sink further, dragging him to shore.
Desperately, he claws for a rock, a stick, anything to fight me off.
It never fails to amuse me, watching demons cling to life as if death isn’t something they’ve already come back from.
With his next kick, I latch onto his leg and snap it in two.
Rotting blood sprays as he bellows and flails.
He chokes on the word please as I plunge into his chest to silence him.
I arrive with the carcass in tow just as a warrior is pulled out from underneath the flailing body of a tawny female lycan, neck impaled by his spear. As she takes her final breath, fur and claws recede, body returning to that of a human.
A few feet away, Solmuk raises his machete to a bludgeoned demon, hacking and tossing limbs into the fire. Crossing the remnants of the battlefield, I fall to his side and place my fresh kill at his feet.
The Tilaak are prepared to face the enemy who prowls for warm blood in the night.
The rogues, however, are a different story.
Wolves are the patron symbol of their people, most considering them spiritual guardians.
Reincarnations of their lost ancestors. Their protectors. This carnage is unfathomable.
Leaving him to make his peace, I hang my head and stalk towards the staircase of the center lodge. Six Tilaak bodies are strewn together. Women weep deliriously over them.
I should’ve been here.
Demi retrieves her arrows from the fallen rogues. One is alive—face a bloody, pulpy mess, subdued by Jabir and Qinnu to be brought back to pack grounds for questioning. The rest have been gunned down or executed with silver blades.
My sister stomps over to me. “Where is Tesni? Her unit was stationed here, but I couldn’t find her.”
In wolf form, I can do nothing but gape at her, at the crystalline river that flows along their quaint settlement, now tainted with the blood of peaceful men. I swore on my life that I would never let anything like this happen.
Securing silver chains around a half-conscious rogue, Qinnu answers for me. “We don’t have her location yet. She’s tracking down the oracle. She left at dawn.”
Whipping her head back to me, she sneers. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
When we finally locate Kismet, she can barely hold herself up. Tears fall freely down her grief-stricken face. Deep purple circles cling beneath her eyes. She’s gutted.
“We will find who sent them here. And we will carve their hearts from their chest so that you may burn them with the rest of the savages. You have our word,” Demi vows, kneeling before the chief.
Clutching her cane, she dismisses us with the tilt of her head.
Trotting back to the truck, I quickly revert to my human form and slip on my clothes. The area is finally secure, but among lycans, something still feels amiss.
I call the cabin. The line is dead. Then I try Nell’s personal cell, which doesn’t pick up either.
Testing the new connection with my mate, I reach for her. Shouldn’t I be able to sense her emotions from this range? If anything, I should be able to at least gage some level of fear.
I don’t feel a thing.
Something’s not right, my wolf urges. We should hurry back.
Half an hour later, I’m speeding up the hill. Nell’s car is out front, and so is she, hovering over the limp body of Tripp, whose femur protrudes from his mangled leg. Not far from him are the two other fallen patrolmen in their human forms. Limbs shattered. Throats torn clean off.
I kick open the front door. My nose pulls me in the direction of the kitchen where the foul stench of charred food in the oven unfurls like smog. The phone line has been cut. A pistol lays abandoned on the floor and a bullet is lodged into the wood beneath the sink. Clearly, signs of a struggle.
I press my nose to the cabinet, the residue of sweat and gunpowder activating my augment. It plays out in three seconds. Vessa’s finger pulls back on the trigger just as it’s confiscated from her. She slumps against the chest of a broad male, who promptly hauls her away.
Fuck. Fuck!
Fur spreads along my arms as I hurtle out the door, stumbling to Nell’s side as she compresses Tripp’s wound.
“It was Belgrave,” the last living patrolman whispers.
I let this happen. I left her here with that traitorous grunt.
As darkness falls over the forest, I’m racing into its depths, leaping into my wolf form.
Surrendering myself entirely to smell and sound, I follow my mate’s scent as far as it takes me.
Gemma’s travels with it, along with an unknown male.
Three miles are put behind me before I come to a crumbling farmhouse where three ATVs are parked along a gravel lot.
Fresh tire marks disturb the road, having sped off in a hurry, vanishing with my mate.
I throw back my head, summoning all the power within my lungs to howl. The cry lifts into the night, signaling that the Luna is gone.
War is upon us.