Chapter 29
Torben
The look in Feray's eyes when she looks at me that last time will haunt me forever. I see the exact moment her wolf takes over. The deep, soulless depths of the beast in her chest surface as the red burns through the ice blue.
She's an alpha in a rage. And it doesn't bode well for her mother's pack. My heart pounds as I move behind the sled and dig out my pack with my muzzle. Khal sees what I'm trying to do and rushes over to help.
He sets my pack on the ground, his hands shaking slightly as he pulls out clothes and boots for me, then throws the heavy wool blanket over me so I can shift. As I pull my pants up, a body flies over our heads and impacts the mountain.
We duck instinctively.
"Hurry, Torben, she's on a rampage..." Khal's voice is strained, his eyes wide with panic. I finish dressing as quickly as I can, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Rushing around the side of the sled, I am greeted by a scene of utter carnage.
Bodies are strewn around Feray. Her fur, usually a pristine white, is now more vermillion than snow.
Every wolf that attacked her lies dead at her paws.
She stands tall, head and tail high, hackles raised, growling continuously at what remains of the pack.
Most of the wolves have hit the ground, tails tucked beneath their bodies, while others sit with their heads lowered in submission.
"What did I miss besides the carnage?" I ask as I approach Diaval and Easton, my voice shaky despite my attempt to sound calm.
"As you can see, she made her point," Diaval replies, sweeping his hand over the battlefield as if presenting a grand feast.
His nonchalance sends a chill down my spine. "She's telling the survivors who she is. They are filling her in on the last twenty or so years that she was away," Easton says, tilting his head as if listening to something beyond my hearing. "Well, that's interesting."
"What is?"
"Everything went silent. Can you hear them?" He glances at Diaval, who looks pensive.
"Not a word." Diaval tilts his head, and I shake mine in agreement.
"She must have tired of the snooping," I fling over my shoulder as I move alongside Feray's wolf.
The ferocity in her eyes, the blood on her fur—it's a nightmare I can't wake up from.
I approach slowly from her left side. As I get close enough, I rest my hand over her tense shoulders, feeling the warmth of her fur beneath my fingers.
Feray's voice echoes in my mind, her words chilling and resolute. ...if anyone threatens what's mine again, I will do far worse than I just did. Her fierce declaration sends a shiver down my spine. Why is direct contact working this time and not the others?
"Feray..." I murmur, hesitant to call her "little wolf" in front of her mother's pack. Her left ear flicks in my direction. A small acknowledgment.
You probably can't hear me. They threatened to kill all of you in your sleep. I lost my temper. Her mental voice is tinged with regret and anger.
"I can hear you. I think it's because I'm touching you," I say softly. I dig my fingers into her pelt, breaking up some of the frozen blood clots.
Oh, that's good to know. We need to get moving. They are going to set us up in a guest house before we go meet the current alpha. The disgust in Feray's voice is palpable, and it stirs a protective anger within me.
I glance back at the cart, but Feray shakes her head. The pack will move it. Grab your backpacks and mine and let's go. She barks several times, setting the wolves in motion with a commanding presence that leaves no room for hesitation.
"Grab only our backpacks. Feray says the pack will bring our bags to where we will be staying," I relay to the others.
"How exactly did you hear her?" Diaval asks, glancing between Feray and me.
"Apparently, direct contact works when she lets it." I grab my backpack and Feray's. The others follow suit, each grabbing their pack and one extra—likely filled with the fancy clothing and royal adornments we found.
It's obvious that the Crescent Valley pack is more war-faring than the Dunnum pack. Feray dips her head slightly, allowing the other wolves to lead us toward our lodging. It's almost unnerving seeing all the changes in my once gentle mate.
Whatever magics were used on her to not only suppress her wolf but also to dwarf its size is obviously gone.
The height of her wolf rivals my bear's, but where I have bulk, she has sleek, powerful muscles.
Her wolf is built for power and agility.
As we get closer to town, more inhabitants poke their heads out of their homes to stare at us.
"It's been hundreds of years since other species have traversed their lands. My trip to the castle for Feray's parents was probably the last time they saw anyone that wasn't a wolf," Diaval supplies as we continue on.
We reach a small cottage on the outskirts of the town, and an older gentleman waits at the door for us. "Lord Pendragon, you honor us with your visit." His eyes widen as he stares at Feray openly. "Lyra?" He lowers his head, looking at Feray.
"This is Lyra's daughter, Thyra Feray Jokull, heir apparent of the Crescent Valley Pack." Diaval's word is as good as law when it comes to proclaiming an heir.
"Oh, this changes things." The man glances around quickly, then shoves the door open. "Please, I don't have a lot of time." His scent changes, going sour with fear.
Feray walks past him and shifts back to her human form before she turns to look at him. "What exactly changes?"
The older man's jaw drops before he falls to his knees before her. "I'm Weston. David Weston. I knew your parents."
Easton, that sneaky man, climbs up onto the couch behind her and drops the Selune diadem upon her head.
"What do you know?" Feray's question makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. An icy shiver runs down my spine, my senses heightening as if bracing for an unseen threat.
David eventually stands, his movements deliberate and slow, and looks at Feray.
She's adorned with the bone bracers and necklace and the diadem resting regally upon her head.
These items of power, symbolic of the rightful ruler of the north, glint in the dim light, casting an almost ethereal aura around her.
David's face goes pale. "He's going to try to kill you. The Alpha, that is." He wrings his hands. "He's been waiting for this. Preparing for it. He knew someone would come eventually." The tension in the room is palpable as his gaze flickers from one face to another.
"Let him try," Feray says confidently, her voice unwavering.
Double blinking, I turn to look at my mate. Her fearless stance makes my heart swell with pride and a tinge of fear. My gaze slides to the others. One by one, they nod, their resolve mirroring my own.
"He won't succeed," Khal says, his voice a low growl as the slits of his basilisk eyes flare.
David takes a step back, his fear clear as he glances at Feray. "I assure you, I am the safest person on this side of the mountains."
The sweet, innocent smile that graces Feray's lips is more terrifying than Khal's display.
I know the beast that lies within her chest—a beast that is far from friendly.
"Time reveals all things," Feray says before turning and leaving the room.
Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.
She pauses at the door, and her eyes pulse with an almost white-blue light. Easton races after her.
Once they leave, the tension in the room thickens. Myself, Diaval, and Khal guide David to the table. His eyes dart nervously, and I can practically taste his fear.
"What do you know?" I ask, my voice steady but demanding.
"I think the current Alpha is in deep trouble." David wrings his hands, glancing at Diaval. "Your word as a Pendragon carries more weight than any birthright. Are you sure she's Lyra's daughter?"
Diaval's response is swift, his tone haughty. "I would bet my last scale she is. I knew her parents, and she is of their line."
David's next question is loaded with hidden meaning. "I can safely assume the male she summoned is her mate? He smells like fire, maybe a southern pack with fire abilities?"
"Yeah, he's definitely from the far south. Has a real fiery temperament too, especially when it comes to his mate," Khal chimes in, and Diaval just smirks.
The truth of our shared bond with Feray is a secret we must guard carefully.
"When do you suppose we will get to meet with the Alpha?
" I ask, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
I head to the fridge and find several jugs of fluid.
I sniff the first one, then pass it to Diaval.
His draconic tongue flicks out over it before he offers it back to me with a curt nod.
At least the drink is safe. The long game we play is fraught with danger and deception.
Every move must be calculated, every word weighed.
But for Feray, for our future, it's a game we must win.
And looking at the blood still drying on my hands from touching her fur, I know one thing for certain.
The Alpha has no idea what's coming for him.