18. Gracie
Gracie
I guess I shouldn’t have been shocked that we had the ability to take showers on the road, but I’d still been surprised last night when I was offered the chance to do so in a nearby tent.
Apparently the water was pumped from a mobile tank rigged to the canvas stall, and it was one of the first real washes I’d had since leaving Grimfur Skulk.
Up until now, the best I’d been able to manage was wiping off when I could.
Scrubbing the ash of my hometown off my skin had gone a long way toward making me feel more human, even though my eyes still watered at the thought of going back there.
Like I’d told my mates: in a way it had been healing, even if it hurt.
This morning we’d broken camp before the sun cleared the horizon, tents folded and packed onto trucks, breath fogging in front of every face even as we sat in our vehicle.
The soldiers behind us were quiet, the convoy starting to move without much communication over the comms, the landscape frozen and mostly silent around us.
The seasons still changed here, technically, but without any real foliage to mark it, the only difference was the cold becoming harsher.
My hair was still damp at the ends, braided back and freezing against my neck as the wind cut low over the flat land ahead of us. We were growing closer. We would reach Northgrove by tomorrow, if we stopped for the night again.
I turned the number of days we had left over in my head the way I had often these past weeks. Four days now until the full moon rose into the sky and became a blood moon. Four days until Ivan would have his window of opportunity.
But the countdown wasn’t the only thing sitting heavy in my chest this morning.
In a few miles we would hit the marker on the map the group from the village had provided us.
Last night, they’d been welcomed into camp and given accommodations, but it was the second youngest of the group, a girl around thirteen, who’d found her way to our table.
She’d watched us curiously and even asked a few questions, and when I pointed out our path forward, she dropped her finger right onto it.
“There’s an outpost,” she’d said. “It takes about half a day to get there on foot. It’s for Ivan’s people. Trucks go into it every other day with people and leave empty.”
Her father had come to collect her then, adding that he assumed they were holding prisoners there or worse. If it hadn’t been for my mates, I would have either been dead or one of those prisoners—and I was determined, naive as it was, to save everyone we could along the way.
I knew what it felt like to be left behind and forgotten.
When I brought up the outpost later that night, none of my mates argued. “I think we should be the ones to go,” I said. “I want to see if I recognize anyone, or if the people who run the camp can be turned against Ivan.”
Now it was the next morning, and as we grew near to the marker, Ravik picked up the comm.
“We’re going to go check out that camp, heading around to the east.” Ten minutes later we’d split off from the main body of the convoy, our truck with its soldiers moving ahead faster than the larger vehicles.
We drove until we couldn’t hear the convoy’s engines anymore, surrounded only by the crunch of cold soil under our tires.
When we were half a mile out from the spot marked on our map, we killed the engine and got out, covering the rest of the distance on foot.
“Smoke,” Basir said. I followed his gaze past the rise.
A thin gray line rose against the pale sky, and the cold that settled into my chest was deeper than the wind alone could explain.
We stayed low, using the sparse brush for cover as the rising land brought us to a hill overlooking a larger valley.
From the ridge we were on, the outpost looked smaller than I’d expected.
A single low building with a diagonal roof, a fenced yard, and two trucks parked at odd angles like they’d been abandoned mid-loading.
No real patrol that we could see, just two guards near the front gate, rifles slung loose across their chests like habit rather than vigilance. They weren’t worried.
“Four, maybe five inside,” one of the soldiers with us said quietly, lowering his binoculars. “Cells along the yard’s back wall, from what I can tell. No heavy weapons in sight.”
“How many in the cells?” I asked.
“At least fifteen. Mostly men, a few women, and two children.”
Absolutely not.
“Easy,” Ravik murmured, though I caught the way his jaw was set. He didn’t like this any more than I did. “Lux mea…”
I gave him a look that made my intent clear. There was no way I was staying up here, not with children down there. “I promise I’ll keep focused on getting them out, and if a fight breaks out, I’ll be careful to stay out of the way.”
“I don’t like it,” Basir rumbled.
Thornar took a long moment, looking over my expression with the same level of concern before nodding toward the yard. “Come on. We’ve got this handled.”
Our group moved down off the ridge in a loose line, soldiers fanning wide to cover the fence line while my mates and I came in through the side at a slow, quiet pace.
The two guards at the gate went down fast and without much sound, Basir’s hand over one man’s mouth before he could do more than gasp.
I kept my eyes moving past them, around the building and toward the yard, sticking to the perimeter.
The yard smelled like damp rot and blood, the air thick with tension as we eased our way past the building and toward the cages at the far end.
There was nowhere to take cover, so we moved quickly and methodically instead, hoping the soldiers inside were too preoccupied to look back here.
It helped that there were no windows facing this way.
We were halfway across the yard when the back door of the building opened.
I felt it before I saw him. A cold drop in my stomach, my body tensing as fear trickled down my spine. I turned, not even bothering to hide myself. My wolf let out a growl that broke through my teeth.
“Glow, what is—”
Basir’s words cut off. My gaze locked on a very familiar face.
Colyn.
In the past month, he had changed. He still had the same broad shoulders and conventionally attractive appearance, but he looked gaunt, almost sick.
The arrogance in his expression hadn’t left him, but he wasn’t quite the same man.
I wondered what Ivan had put them through after my rescue. Nothing good, clearly.
His gaze found me before it found my mates, and his expression shifted from surprise to recognition, then to something far worse: unmistakable pleasure.
I’d seen that look before—it was the one he used to give Ravina when he “favored” her with his attention, and now it was aimed at me.
My stomach churned with disgust, flashes of him trying to corner me on my trips to the shrine playing through my head.
“Well,” he drawled. “Look who finally came home.”
My mouth had gone dry, my throat tight.
I could feel all three of my mates go rigid, our bond flooding with a hot fury that didn’t only belong to me.
Thornar’s hand found the small of my back, like he was going to pull me back, and Basir let out a low rumble from his throat.
Ravik moved forward to stand in front of me, staying absolutely silent.
“You remember me,” Colyn said as he took a step closer, casual despite the soldiers that followed him out. “Course you do. Little three-one-four. Heard you caused quite a bit of trouble since you left us.”
The old number landed like a blow, and for one terrible second I was back in that kitchen, back in that hallway with the polished wood floors, my head down and my fists tight at my sides because that was the only way to survive him.
My wolf slammed against that memory, furious, and I had to breathe through it.
Had to remind myself that I wasn’t that girl anymore.
“That is not my name,” I managed, my voice coming across far more levelly than I would have expected.
Colyn smiled, slow and unbothered, like my fear was something he could still taste on the air. “Correct. I said your number. That’s all you were, wasn’t it? All any of you were.”
Thornar took a step forward, and I felt Ravik’s hand come up. Not stopping him exactly, just holding the moment a beat longer.
Ravik’s voice was cold and calculating as he spoke directly to Colyn.
“Two choices. Open every cell—or die, and we’ll open them anyway.
” Chills broke out over my skin, my breath hitching at the pure malice in his tone.
It didn’t scare me, but it made it all too clear that Ravik sensed how much anxiety and fear Colyn had caused me.
Colyn’s gaze flicked toward him, trying to look unimpressed, but a flicker of fear was there, one he couldn’t hide. “You’re not releasing them.”
That was when I heard it. A voice, thin and rasping, carrying from a cell half hidden in the shadows of the surrounding fence line.
“Gracie.”
Barely more than a breath. I turned before I could think better of it. Thornar’s hand tightened at my back in warning, but I was already moving, already at the bars, already looking into the dark at a woman I’d seen every day for ten years. Thalira.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Thalira whispered, her familiar face worn and exhausted. “You got out. Why are you back?”
“What is this place? Why are you here? Are they holding you?” I asked, trying to push away the tears.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever see her again, and now I realized just how worried I’d been about her.
She’d been part of the system that hurt me, but she’d always tried, in whatever secret ways she could manage, to help the people around her.
“This isn’t a holding camp.” Her voice cracked, old grief buried somewhere under the words. “This is where he sends the ones who fail his standards. The ones too old, too weak, too flawed to be worth sacrificing. He doesn’t waste the ritual on the unworthy. He just…disposes of us.”
I felt something in my chest go cold, and then, a heartbeat later, catch fire. Behind me, Colyn laughed. Like none of this mattered to him at all.
“She talks too much,” he said. “Always has.”
A shot rang out, the bullet striking the ground just short of the cell. Right at my feet. A clear warning.
I didn’t decide to shift. My wolf decided, in a wave of pure rage. At the injustice. At Colyn. At people being treated like trash that could be “disposed of.” At every imbalance of power that had ever been used against people like us.
One second I was standing on two legs and the next my bones were rearranging themselves in a rush of heat and pressure, skin tearing as black fur swept over my body. It happened faster than ever before, no hesitation or fear holding the transformation back the way it used to.
My wolf had been waiting for this—waiting for a reason. I felt myself slip loose from any control, thrown to the back of my own head with no way to hold her back, no way to stay calm. I just acted on pure and primal instinct.
The world sharpened the way it always did on four legs, scent and sound rushing in. I could smell the blood already soaked into the dirt of this place, weeks of it, and underneath that was the metallic tang of the warning shot Colyn had just fired.
Somewhere behind me, I heard Thornar break for the cages, his hands already working the rusted lock on Thalira’s door. Basir and Ravik shifted in near-unison, two massive forms hitting the ground beside me.
Around us, the soldiers who’d come in with us broke into motion, shouts cutting across the yard as more of Colyn’s men spilled out from the building, gunfire cracking against the quiet of the morning. Our people moved to meet them, and the whole outpost seemed to detonate at once.
My wolf didn’t care about any of it. Didn’t care about strategy or plans or the careful restraint I’d been holding onto since coming face to face with one of my tormentors.
All she cared about were the men, women, and children behind bars.
About seeking vengeance on men like Colyn who kept exploiting people with no one to stop them.
Colyn’s cockiness died the second he saw what I’d become. He raised the gun again, but I didn’t give him time to aim.
I hit him before he could pull the trigger, the impact driving us both to the ground in a tangle of commotion. The gun skittered away across the dirt, forgotten. My teeth found his throat before he found enough breath to scream.
It wasn’t quick—my wolf didn’t want it to be.
He fought, hands scrabbling at my jaw, nails tearing at fur as his men tried to reach him, only to be stopped by the ferocious snarls of my mates and the crack of our soldiers’ guns. Colyn was one unarmed man, and my wolf poured every ounce of anger and vengeance into ripping out his throat.
When it was over, the yard had gone quiet in a way that made my head spin. I stood over Colyn, blood hot and metallic on my tongue, and waited to feel something. Guilt. Horror. Anything. Instead, grim satisfaction settled into my chest like it had always belonged there.
I’d killed someone. I’d killed someone else.
And I didn’t feel guilty at all.
That was the part that scared me.
What I felt instead was quiet. I’d expected the kill to cost me something, rash as the decision to shift and attack had been, and it hadn’t. My wolf whined in confusion, circling the stillness in my chest like she didn’t understand it either.
Somewhere close, I heard Basir’s voice saying my name like he wasn’t sure I could hear him. Maybe he’d been saying it for a while now. How long had I been staring down at Colyn’s body?
Shifting back hurt more than usual, my body protesting the sudden change after moving so fast and hitting so hard.
The freed prisoners had gathered at the edges of the yard, watching in stunned silence.
Basir was by my side before I’d fully found my footing, wrapping something warm around my shoulders.
His hands were steady even though I could feel the tremor underneath his calm.
“Glow.” His voice was quiet and careful. “You’re okay.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. The taste of blood was still in my mouth as I brought my fingers up to my lips, shaking.
Thornar stood at my other side, saying nothing, just offering his sleeve to wipe my lips.
Ravik hadn’t moved from where Colyn’s body lay, his expression unreadable, already speaking into the comm about the cells, about getting soldiers down here, about how many prisoners we’d need to move before the convoy caught up.
“Gracie.” Thalira’s voice again, softer now. I looked up to find her watching me with something that wasn’t fear—not exactly. It was more complicated than that. Or maybe I was making it more complicated than that.
“We’re getting you out,” I told her. “All of you. Now.”