Chapter 16
Varek
The roar crawled through the rock like it was, on its own, a living thing.
It came up from the bend, a low rumble at first, then deeper, a sound that made the very seams of the earth shiver.
Dust trickled from the ceiling in a thin gray thread.
The lantern flame quivered and then steadied, casting a shadow deep into the tunnel that left me feeling uneasy.
The tunnel carried the smell of whatever was coming before I could make out any semblance of its shape. It stank of blood, rot, and some sort of chemical that burned my sinuses. Sweat dripped down and went cold on the back of my neck. I stepped forward and held my breath.
It came into view, and the light drew the nightmare out of the dark.
I had seen Nyktos, terrible creatures warped from the rage serum and mindless hunger.
This was not that. This was larger, heavier, the size of a grizzly bear packed into the outline of a man.
Shoulders like boulders, neck gone thick and ridged, its body studded with raised cords that pulsed.
The fur that sprouted along its arms came in patches, and between them the skin shone black with veins that crawled like roots under ice.
Its jaws had widened, teeth too long for a wolf and set at angles that said nothing natural had built them.
Saliva hung in gleaming ropes from its open maw.
The lantern light licked them into silver threads.
Then I saw its eyes.
Not yellow. Not the cold glass of a Nyktos. They were, impossibly, a brilliant shade of blue, buried in bizarre bloody, swollen tissue. A scar cut through the right brow. Three lines, each clean and white.
A stab of brutal recognition pierced right through me.
“Gareth,” I said, and the name tasted like rust on my tongue.
The thing that filled the tunnel was not my soldier anymore, not the hand at my shoulder in a night ambush, not the quiet voice that had asked for one more chance in training and then delivered.
This was wrong.
“Can you hear me?” I asked, because I had to. “Can you hear anything at all?”
The creature opened its mouth and tried to form a sound. What came out was a wet gargle followed by a moan that built into a roar. The sound filled the tunnel. My chest felt hollowed out. The lantern light swung and threw shadows like claws across the rock.
It came for me.
There was no warning. One heartbeat it was crouched, shoulders hunched, breath coming in savage pulls. The next it exploded forward. I stepped in to meet it because there was no other choice. I was a soldier, and I knew that hesitation kills.
The first blow from one of its hands/paws took my shoulder, a heavy club that spun me into the wall and stripped skin from my back. I slammed the lantern into its face and glass burst, oil spraying, flame washing upward into a brief curtain of light that set the ragged fur smoking.
The thing bellowed and flinched. I ducked under its arms, gripping my knife tightly with my right hand and driving it at the place where his ribs should part.
The knife skated. The serum had toughened the skin there into something like wet bark.
The tip lodged and then deepened a fraction.
Black blood welled around the blade and the smell of it was wrong, sweet and metallic.
It hit the back of my throat, and I pushed harder, teeth bared, until the knife sank in an inch and the monster convulsed in pain.
It threw me. My back hit the timber brace and the beam splintered.
Fresh dust choked the air. I rolled before it could crush me into the floor and came up in a crouch, claws out, knife gone.
It slammed both fists on the ground where I had been and the tunnel floor jumped.
Rock split in a spider web pattern and one crack ran toward the rock fall like a black line drawn in an old ledger.
We circled each other in the dark, broken only by the sputtering oil fire.
It shook its head, smoke curling from singed fur, and turned its face fully to me.
The eyes were still there. The scars white and clean in the swollen mess.
Gareth’s mouth moved behind those teeth and for a second, I thought I saw my name form on his lips.
Then his rage flooded whatever control had surfaced. He snarled and charged at me again.
The second impact drove my shoulder into the wall.
My bones sang with agony. I raked claws across the thick cords of his forearm, and skin tore in long strips, blood running hot down his elbow.
He didn’t seem to feel it. He pinned me and tried to crush my chest with his weight.
I braced one hand under his throat and shoved up.
The other paw came up to rake my flank. I saw the move before he made it and let my body slip.
His claws tore cloth and not flesh, and I breathed the briefest sigh of relief.
He roared into my face. Spittle spattered my cheek.
I smelled the chemical rot of whatever he’d been given coming off his breath.
I could only guess that the Council had injected him with something that they were testing and thrown him into the dark to come end me and from what I’d seen already, it was eating him from the inside out.
“Forgive me,” I pleaded to my old friend, and drove both claws into his eyes.
He reeled back. He flailed and caught me high on the head.
The world turned into a pulse of bright white.
I fell, rolled, came up with one knee under me as he thrashed, a mass of muscle and pain that filled the tunnel.
He smashed his head into the wall and blood sprayed in a dark fan.
It painted the rock in a line that looked like a child’s smile.
I’d hoped that was the end of it, but it wasn’t.
He came for me blind.
I scrambled. The knife had fallen near the broken lantern glass.
My fingers found the hilt by sheer luck.
As he lunged, I slid under him and carved a long, deep line along his belly.
Flesh sloughed open. Heat spilled over my forearm like an animal trying to escape captivity.
He staggered and turned, and I drove for his throat.
There, the skin wasn’t thick enough to stop me. The blade sank. He clamped one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip and tried to lift me, to break me in half. I put everything into the thrust. Steel met cartilage and then the spine. I twisted.
The roar filled every inch of the tunnel, vibrating through my ribs and skull. The lantern light jumped, throwing shadows against the stone that made the creature look even larger.
It moved faster than something that size should have been able to. One second it was crouched, the next it slammed into me. My back hit the wall with enough force to rattle my bones. I felt my ribs give under the impact and pain crashed like lightning across my chest.
“Gareth,” I rasped. “Stop. You can stop this.”
The creature answered with a roar that rattled the support beams. Its breath was hot and foul against my face. I saw the flash of its teeth as it opened its mouth, aiming for my throat. I shoved upward, clawing at its neck, but it caught my arm, wrenched it back, and drove me into the rock again.
The ceiling cracked above us. Dust sifted down, coating my tongue with grit. My head snapped against the wall, stars bursting across my vision. My knees buckled.
I tried to shift, but my wolf faltered under the pressure of his weight. He was stronger, faster. He bent down, jaws wide, saliva spilling over my neck.
I looked into his eyes then.
Through the rage and the smoke and the monster, I saw it. Just for an instant. Through the bloody mess I’d made of his eyes, the bright shade of blue I remembered. The soldier who had once stood beside me, not this abomination the Council had made him into.
His expression flickered between human and monster, the serum and the man warring for control.
“Gareth,” I whispered. “Don’t let them win.”
He froze. Just long enough.
I twisted, grabbed a rock, and slammed it into the side of his head. The blow staggered him. His grip loosened. I tore free, lunged for my fallen knife, and rolled to my feet. My breath came in ragged gasps, setting my lungs on fire. The creature roared again, louder, making me wince.
We collided in a blur of claws and teeth. I slashed deep across his side, but he didn’t stop. His hand came at me like a hammer, catching me across the face. My vision went white.
I stumbled back, barely conscious, the world spinning. My legs gave out, and I hit the ground hard. The knife slipped from my fingers. My head thudded against stone, the sound echoing inside my skull.
Through the haze, I saw him rear up to strike the final blow. His claws gleamed, black and wet. The roar coming from his chest was no longer rage—it was grief.
And then, at the very edge of my sight, he hesitated. His claws hovered, trembling, as if the weight of what he was about to do burned through what remained of his mind.
He turned his head toward the cracked ceiling, nostrils flaring, and even though he couldn’t see, it was as though he could sense the boulder wedged high above us, at the top of the rock fall where Mariah had squeezed through and escaped.
Before I could move, he lunged blindly.
The sound was deafening. He tore the boulder free from the ceiling, ripping down beams and stone. The monster, muscles bulging, threw it toward the collapsed rock. It hit with an impact that split the mountain. A gap opened in the rock, light spilling through from the surface.
He’d given me a way out.
The effort drove him to his knees. He turned, swaying, chest heaving. The veins beneath his skin pulsed black. I pushed up to my knees, barely breathing, watching as the shadow of his humanity flickered like a dying flame.
Then came the sound of boots and snarls echoing down the tunnel. Wolves. Reinforcements.
Fuck.
They rounded the corner and stopped when they saw him, frozen by the horror that filled the passage.
“Gareth,” one whispered.
The creature raised its head, turning blindly toward the sound. And for one moment, his face softened.
He growled once. Then he reached for the ceiling again.
I barely had time to shout before the mountain came down.
Stone screamed as beams splintered. The tunnel shuddered, the walls bowing inward. Wolves shouted, some trying to flee, others firing their rifles. It didn’t matter. Gareth drove his hands into the walls and pulled once again.
The mountain obeyed him.
The collapse was a cacophony of rock and destruction. The tunnel filled with dust and screams and the sound of breaking earth. I threw myself toward the gap he had made, the only patch of light left.
The world exploded behind me. The ground lifted, then dropped away. I crawled, choking, my hands bleeding as I dragged myself through the hole. Stone fell around me, one piece glancing off my shoulder, another striking my already wounded side.
Then I was outside.
The mountain’s breath gusted out after me and the opening behind me sealed shut in a wave of falling rock.
Then there was nothing but silence.
The wind hit my face, brisk and cold. I coughed, my throat coated with pulverized rock, lungs burning. Every muscle screamed as I pushed myself up onto my knees. My vision swam.
The world around me was gray stone and distant peaks. The sun was low, a smear of gold through the haze. Rain mixed with the dirt, turning it to mud beneath my palms.
I turned back toward the mountain. There was no sign of him. No sign of the wolves.
My chest ached. I pressed a hand to it, feeling my pulse hammering.
He had saved me. Saved all of us, in a way. Even in the end, the soldier in him had fought his last good fight.
I whispered his name, and the wind picked it and carried it away from me. Without another word, I staggered to my feet, blood still dripping down my arm. My balance wavered, my head spinning, but I started walking toward the ridgeline.
Toward my mate.