Epilogue
Nelissa hated the Wall. Everything about it—the cold, ugly concrete, the lifeless gray color, even the way the sound bounced unnaturally off the flat surface.
But what she really hated was knowing how close she was to the kirre world.
Just beyond this monstrous barrier lay a disgusting world of greed and technology. Of weak, faithless creatures who cared more for things than ideals. Of lowly cattle who refused to accept their place in the natural order.
In a perfect world, she’d be a thousand miles away from this cursed monument to man’s hubris. She’d be seated on a throne, giving orders to her men, fighting back the scourge of kirre women trying to muddy ferus blood.
She’d come close to making that world a reality.
But before she could close her fingers around it, the prize had been ripped from her hand by a traitor and his bitch.
Now, they thought she was defeated. Beat back and broken—but they were wrong.
Nelissa wasn’t about to give up that easily.
She’d have her revenge. On the traitor. On the kirre. On the whole damn pack who’d dared to stand against her.
That was the only thing that mattered now. She’d give anything to see them suffer.
She’d even sacrifice her pride.
Which was why she was here now, standing at the Wall, lowering herself to talk to a kirre.
Not just any kirre, though. That would never do.
No, the only reason she was willing to swallow down this kind of humiliation was that she understood the gain that could be had.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
She’d first heard that line the day Lash and his bitch had dared to return to the old pack. Nelissa had heard it with her own ears, hiding in the shadows just a few yards away.
That day, her men had finally picked up the traitor’s scent, and they’d been closing in. But it wasn’t fated to be. Nelissa had arrived just as the gate’s armed came streaming out.
But at least that day wasn’t a complete loss.
That line had stayed in her head, echoing over and over until a plan had started to form.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Yes. They certainly could be.
The clattering of an approaching engine sounded through the opening of the tunnel. A horrible smell followed, the sharp, acrid smoke that belched from the vehicle’s exhaust.
How did these creatures tolerate all that filth?
Steeling her spine and holding her nose, Nelissa pushed herself forward, emerging a few seconds later on the kirre side of the Wall.
Just in time for a dull green-gray army jeep to come to a stop right in front of her. A blocky kirre man wearing a uniform with stars on the shoulders stepped out.
“Ma’am,” he said stiffly, sweeping the hat off his head. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how unorthodox this meeting is.”
Nelissa forced a tight smile. “For both of us.”
“I only hope, for your sake, this doesn’t end up being a waste of time.”
“Oh, it won’t, General,” she assured him. “I promise you that.”