5. CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 5
Grayson
Only three guards waited against the wall, silently watching. Mace remained at the table.
“She’s terrified.” I said to Donnelly.
“She has reason to be.”
“What happened?”
He leaned back, his shoulders squared. A wariness darkened his eyes. He was shrewd. Honest. An elder, still in his role as protector of an apparently destroyed clan. A man who pretended to be feeble, tripping on branches.
Another skillful chameleon? Blending in, appearing ineffective? Not a threat, but I could be.
I sent out a thread of alpha power, probed at the walls of his mind. They wavered, still strong, but breakable. Even though they’d fled from the Cariboo, these men had not been expelled, with their pack bonds broken. That meant two things—their alpha was ineffective, relying on elders. Or he was dead, and the elders had taken his place.
“You have no living alpha,” I said. “He—or she—died, and not from an alpha challenge.” An alpha challenge meant two wolves, fighting in front of the pack and to the death. Then the watching pack members, swearing loyalty as the alpha’s power moved to the victor.
Donnelly pressed his lips together. “Happened a year ago. The queen killed the alpha, somewhere in her dungeons. Took his place and called a meeting. We were told it was to swear our loyalty. Men from all the settlements had to go. Not just the elders. Davie—my son—he was one of those called. Went with me, stood at my side through it all.”
“She has a fortress beneath a glacier?” asked Mace.
“A damn castle built of hewn stone. Herded us all inside a throne room. Her guards were at every door—no one could escape. She sat on this golden throne like royalty. The ancient kind we haven’t seen in centuries.”
“Evil magic.” Cashel stared at the mug of coffee he hadn’t touched. “Curdling beneath the skin.”
“You were there?”
“We all were, that time.”
“And?” Mace prompted.
“She had a fucking vampire pinned to the stone wall.” Pike drank water, not coffee, and slammed the cup on the table. “Still alive. Twitching each time the crows picked at his eyes. He wasn’t the only one.”
“Alphas,” Donnelly said. “Minor ones. Some I knew. Some I didn’t recognize. Not from Cariboo. But she’d used some witch spell to keep them from moving.”
“Anyone recognize the spell?” Mace glanced around at the silent group. No one answered.
“Did she use shackles? Knives?” he persisted. “Shitty magic wands?”
“From where we stood,” Donnelly said, “it looked like iron shackles holding their wrists. Then daggers, slammed through their chests, like bugs, keeping them still. Said she’d do it to anyone who didn’t swear loyalty to her.”
“But she meant something else?” It wasn’t a question. Not if we were dealing with Amal. Months ago, Julien told me the vampires had a missing sire, one who had gone into the Cariboo and hadn’t come out. Had he refused to swear loyalty, and now hung on Amal’s wall?
“She said it was a warning. Righting a wrong. A lesson to the ancient kings because they’d stolen the wolves from the queens. Made no sense since those kings were all dead. But maybe it was just a show, a way to demonstrate her power. Scare everyone.”
Donnelly paused to gather himself before he said, “She took a bone knife and sawed through the alpha wolf tattoos, one strip at a time.”
“Dropped each strip in a brazier. Let it burn,” Cashel said. “I can’t forget the stench.”
“Called it fucking blood magic,” Pike added, his voice guttural.
“It didn’t work, not like she expected, because one alpha shifted, tore his arms when he broke free.”
Fucked up shit, Gray, Mace hissed through our mental bond, while I shuddered as if something primal was being sliced away.
“She killed that wolf, then burned the bone knife in her hand, obliterated it. After that, she killed those who hadn’t already died—except the vampire. She wanted him alive and suffering.”
“She let you go?” Mace again, as unmoving as a waiting predator.
“Not intentionally. Some of her hybrids broke out from wherever she kept them. They’d turned feral, crashed through the gathered crowd. Probably drawn to the blood. In the chaos, we found an open door, kept running.”
“Davie woke during the night, cold sweat, trembling, waiting for her to come,” Donnelly whispered. “He worried about Elana, the unborn pup. The two young ones, falling into that witch’s hands.”
Cashel turned away, his knee jerking. Pike drank, then dragged a hand across his mouth. I decided Davie hadn’t been the only one unable to sleep through the nights.
Elana, too, if Davie shared his nightmares with her.
“But we figured,” the elder continued, despite his raspy voice, “that’s why random men went missing. She was sending her soldiers into the settlements. Ran out of alphas, I guess, and a wolf is a wolf, isn’t it? Just… strip it away.”
My hand fisted on the table. The barbarism didn’t shock me. Amal had ordered Brin to burn Julien. Hatred sank to every depth, crossed every boundary. What better revenge on the kings than to learn how they’d broken the queens, then turn that knowledge against her enemies? Anyone who wronged her, or refused to obey her, would be powerless and at her mercy.
Pike and Cashel stared at nothing, maybe memories. I asked anyway. “You two fight beside Davie when she came to your settlement?”
Pike’s jaw clenched. “We were part of the bug-out team protecting Elana and the kids, get her into the mountains until Davie could join us. He was supposed to join us. He wasn’t supposed to die.”
“Half his unit defected.” A flash of canine from Cashel, the wolf who’d shifted when we found them. “They dropped their weapons and did nothing while hybrids ripped Davie apart.”
“Where are they now?” Mace asked quietly. “The men who defected?”
Cashel held Mace’s gaze. “Snow’s easy to knock down.”
Through our mental bond, Mace added, Silence runs deep . Pike has the flash while Cashel has the heart.
He’d be good as one of yours.
Maybe.
Angel had been silent through the discussion, and I asked, “You have anything to add?”
Her mouth twitched. “I’ve been told similar stories.”
I sent a quick order through the pack bond. The men standing against the wall stepped forward.
“The guards will take you to the barracks. Settle in, rest while you can. I’ll have a decision in the morning for Donnelly and Elana.”
I told the old man, “You’ll take your family to Westvale if the Alpha approves. She needs their medical facilities. If it’s not Westvale, you’ll go to one of our settlements, and we’ll transport you out of the area if you wish. Pike and Cashel—you’re welcome to remain. We need fighters. Just know that if you run off, no one will chase you except the vampires. They hunt for men like you, turn them into hybrids. Half don’t survive the process, and half of those who live turn feral within a year. Not a way I’d want to go. Make your decision by morning.”
They stood to go, but I hadn’t finished with the orders. “Angel. You stay.”
She sat down.
“Tell me about yourself,” I asked when we were alone.
“Not much to tell.”
“You’ve been on your own a long time?”
She folded her hands on the table. “Long enough.”
“How’d Donnelly get in touch with you?”
“Networks exist not even alphas know about.”
I leaned back. “Where’s your home pack?”
“Far from here.”
“Your alpha?” I prompted.
“He died.”
“You have my sympathies.”
Flames in the fireplace popped, drawing her attention. When she refocused on me, pain still flickered in her uncovered eye—a hazel-colored eye, reminding me of the woods and shadowed places. The color of Noa’s eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, one shoulder lifting with a gesture I’d seen Noa make many times.
“Did your alpha have any other family?” I asked blandly. “Someone who could take his place?”
“They’re all gone.”
“All?”
“Yes.” Her smile sliced. “And you’re a dread lord. Our pups read fanciful stories about alphas like you. Juiced up weapons.”
My smile mocked. “Thank you for noticing. How long have you been saving stray dogs, hoping they’ll have better lives?”
A challenge sparkled in her one eye, more life—excitement—than I’d seen from her since she divested herself of weapons. I wondered where she’d hidden her backup, because I doubted that she went anywhere unarmed.
“Eight years,” she said. “Not as many years as you, saving all your stray dogs.” A faint laugh when I scowled. “It’s what we both do, in different ways. Alphas are protective, guardians by nature—at least the alphas I’ve known. But you…” She traced a small circle on the table. “I think you’ve become jaded.”
My jaw flexed. “You’ve never been frustrated?” Frustrated, angry. Fighting an enemy I couldn’t find. Corrupted wolves who killed indiscriminately. Fools who wandered through the forests at night.
Who was she, to judge from her mercenary life? Where she made the rules and walked away from obligation?
“Frustration is born out of failure,” she said. “But failure is a consequence of leadership. We all fail.” That circle again, drawn with deliberation, as if she was making some point. “The strong can stride through it. I’d heard such rumors about you.”
“How many hybrids have you killed?” I countered, although I hadn’t missed her choice of words. We all…
“None,” she said.
“Talk to me when you have.”
“I’d hoped to never see a hybrid, let alone fight one. The message from Jodan said you were a friend who offered safe passage. Has the friend part changed?”
“The world has changed. You’re lucky we got to you first tonight.”
She nodded, refusing to look away or dip her chin before she pushed to her feet—another movement that reminded me of Noa.
Perhaps I was tired, seeing my mate in her mannerisms.
But her gaze had gone to the wall covered with weapons. A collection made over centuries. Battered and covered with dust. Swords, knives. Crossbows and spears. Wooden shields with the ancient alpha markings; a blue field with a white slash, two fighting wolves, a slashing claw mark. A band of stars—Cariboo—seldom seen, and no longer used.
“Quite the arsenal.” Her gaze skewered me with that meaning I wasn’t getting. “I suppose it makes a pretty decoration—the weapons you don’t use.”
“If you like that sort of thing,” I said.
“Is it true you know a faille ?”
“There’s a guard outside the door. He’ll take you to the barracks. Don’t leave.”
“Are we prisoners?”
“It isn’t a death sentence.”
“Isn’t it?” She leveled that one-eyed gaze on me. “Lie to me again in the morning.”
“Aren’t you worried?” Mace asked half an hour later. He’d come to my room bearing food and beer because he claimed I wasn’t eating enough—although it was probably his stomach, demanding more food.
Sandwich remains still sat on the plates.
“Worried about what?” Absently, I poked through the open wooden box on my desk.
“You’re going through Noa’s private stuff.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t go through Fallon’s secret box.”
Mace picked at the sandwich, searching for something he’d missed besides bread crusts. “We said safe-keeping against looters in Azul.”
“Exactly what I’m doing.” My smile sliced. Maybe I was an alphahole for doing it, but something had crawled beneath my skin earlier and I couldn’t figure it out. For some fucked up reason, I hoped for an answer in Noa’s mother’s box.
“She’ll probably burn you when she finds out.”
“So she doesn’t find out.” After Azul fell, Mace and I had returned with several men to see what was salvageable, then determine the amount of damage and search for lingering survivors. I’d gone to Noa’s house and collected the faille journals—what Amal overlooked—and the carved wooden box I found beneath Noa’s bed. Mace had searched Fallon’s apartment and found similar hidden treasures.
Pure wolf, we earned our alphahole status by going through their personal things, betting on what we’d find—adult toys hidden in the boxes? Reasonable, since Noa’s had been beneath her bed, and Fallon’s hidden in a bedside nightstand.
No such luck.
“What secrets did you find in Fallon’s stuff?”
“She loves pink, glittery things.” Mace’s mouth twisted as he reached for the beer, guzzled down what had to be tepid by now. “What’s pissed you off about Angel?”
I flipped open the children’s book, stared at the pink hearts and closed it. Set it back in the box, careful not to disturb the crushed petals and the tiny baby shoes… finding it hard to believe Noa had ever been small enough to wear them. I rubbed at my chest, then reached for the envelope addressed to Noa’s mother, hesitating before I set it back in place.
“She’s not what she pretends to be,” I admitted.
“Already sent out feelers.”
Mace’s spy network was one of the best I’d ever encountered. I closed the lid on Noa’s box. Closed my search for answers. “Elana and the kids—they’re Anson’s problem now.”
“Speaking of Anson…” Mace rocked forward, pushed the beer closer to my hand. “Noa woke up.”
“When?”
“An hour ago.” He swigged his beer, then spoke around the bottle. “I talked to my contact before I grabbed things.”
Picking up the bottle, I asked, “Bad enough I need alcohol?”
“Noa’s fine, and we need Anson as an ally.”
“Fucking tell me, Mace.”
He did, giving a thorough report, while black claws punched through my knuckles. The claws made holding the beer a pain in the ass, but I worked through it.
“The nymphs?”
“On their way. Anson’s healer sees the wisdom in not sticking around. By morning, he’ll be making his excuses. Leave Leo in charge.”
I let the beer linger in my mouth before swallowing. “That’s all?”
“Fallon’s up and on crutches. I guess she ripped Anson a new one.”
I breathed as if I couldn’t trust my lungs.
“Gray.” Mace rarely sounded solemn. “We both know his wards are shit. Blow through them. Go see her. Hold her hand.”
“I’m not going to fucking hold her hand.” More than anything, Noa hated being treated like an invalid. I might want to hold her hand for myself. But she’d already risked her life for me. I wouldn’t let her do it again, and if I showed up like the needy alphahole ready to save the day, she’d not only hate me for “rescuing” her. She’d risk herself again. Fight my battles. Stand at my side. We’d argue, and I’d say things. She’d do the same. I’d undermine her confidence after she’d worked so hard to find it. Probably hurt her more than I had.
Besides, my reasons for wanting her with Anson were the same reasons I had for Fallon and Laura. Their safety was my priority, while my excuses for staying away were as valid—even though Mace was right and I could have strolled through Anson’s wards any time I wanted.
I’d already disrespected Anson with Fallon’s charade. I would honor his decision because he needed me to honor it. When we decided to rescue Brin because we needed a faille , I’d asked Fallon to keep Anson preoccupied and unaware of what we were doing. That decision was unfair to him, and what I did now was meant to rebuild the trust we’d lost.
But his arguments were also valid. Noa had enemies. She’d be harder to find in the middle of the Carmag, with so many competing wolf energies swirling around. My presence would only disrupt things.
I knew Anson’s wards would warn against intruders, agents sent from Amal. Or the vampires, who’d be searching for her. And while I might want to be there, Noa didn’t fucking need me there when Anson was willing to protect her.
The nymphs had told me that much, how my dread lord influence wasn’t healthy for Noa after she’d nearly burned herself out for me.
“What about you?” Mace asked, his voice low. “Maybe you need her to hold your hand.”
I snorted.
“She calms you,” he persisted. “Her energy against yours.”
I heaved a breath, pushed the chair back and walked to the window—wooden-framed and overlooking the stakewall below. The forest beyond. Skeletal trees reached toward the full moon, close to the mid-heaven now.
The cold leaching through the glass did nothing for the anger writhing beneath my skin, old and primal. The curse of the kings was a constant presence, the driving need to fix what they’d destroyed. The need to fix Noa. Destroy Amal.
Guilt pressed hard over my failure to do even one of those things. I hadn’t wanted to see it, how each time I asked Noa for something… and each time she granted it unquestioningly… I was slowly destroying her.
I’d keep on destroying her if she was around me—and fool that I was, I almost didn’t care. Didn’t have the strength not to do what Mace suggested.
Run to her. Beg her. Break for her when she’d already broken for me. Doing that to Noa once again… I’d rather stab my own heart.
With no way to explain, I took the easier path and remained at the window. Staring at nothing. Silent, waiting until Mace stood. He closed the door softly as he left.
In the morning, it wasn’t news from the Carmag, but vampires who demanded my attention.
“They’re outside the stakewall,” the guard said, rushing the words. “Waiting in the open.”
The men were assembling, their numbers increasing as I stalked through the open gates. Mace was waiting. Levi, gripping his spear.
Set stood regally, as if the gray field was her court and everyone gathering around had come to honor her. She was wrapped in white fur against the cold she couldn’t feel. Her hair was as black as a raven’s wing and lifting in the frigid breeze. The same breeze whipped the cape hem around her black-booted feet. Her tight pants were also black. I assumed whatever shirt she wore matched the color theme.
Behind her stood three similarly attired vampires, two males and one female, bristling with hostility.
Perhaps we were allies, but we were not friends. Shadows swirled and anger pulsed, tight with vengeance. I would not push it down. Vampires had taken Noa. Levi and Laura. Vampires cut my mate, tore into the runes on her skin. They’d fucking cut away at the black wolf sigil.
Vampires nearly killed her.
Vampires who betrayed their own.
Julien.
Men fell into ranks behind me, spreading out. They sensed my hostility and reacted in kind.
More vampires shimmered into being, forming three additional rows behind Set. She’d come prepared for battle.
I would meet her on the field if that was what she wanted.
I glanced around. Enough men waited, eager for the challenge. My skin iced with dark frissons, lightning seeking an outlet. Dull thunder warned in the distance. But the first aggressive move would not be mine.
One honor I had left to offer Julien—I would not attack his sire until she’d had her say. I nodded in greeting. “Set.”
“Wolf.” The vampire’s lips tightened, a slash of bright red against all the black and white. I thought of Noa, how she’d appreciate the stark beauty in the colorations. Want to photograph them. Or she’d think of the blood the vampires left, smeared across her skin, and want to kill them.
“You have my condolences.” Might as well get it out in the open. “I’m sorry for your loss. For Cybelle. Njal and Kazamir. And for Julien. He was a friend.”
“What are you doing about it?”
“What are you? Vampires created Amal long before I learned of her.”
Set said with deadly calm, “The wolves bear blame for their kings and queens.”
Old news, words I was tired of hearing.
“No worse than vampires who turned her into an immortal monster.” My canines punched down, and I did nothing to hide the aggression. “Tell me what you want.”
Hissing rolled from the guards behind Set. She silenced them with a flick of her hand. “Where is Noa Bishop?”
My wolf stirred, on edge, bristling. “Safe.”
“That’s not what failles are for. She is a weapon. You should use her, not hide her.”
I let Set see the ancient menace of a dread lord. Hear the ominous thunder rolling closer and the chill dipping into the air.
She stiffened.
My lip curled back. “You are a guest here, Set.”
“Don’t warn me off, wolf. Hiding won’t save her. She has enemies. Ago is hunting her.”
“We left that fucking Ago pinned to the wall,” Levi said as he stepped forward, the spear trembling in his tight hand. He bared his teeth. “I was there. Witnessed it. Listened to it. You did nothing—”
“Stand down, pup,” the vampire behind Set sneered. “Ago’s sire only stepped in to keep her from killing Barend’s chief enforcer.”
“They’re allies—Barend and Ago’s sire?” I asked.
“Yes.” The vampire did the explaining. “Ago is a brutal hunter. He’ll find Noa Bishop. Extract revenge before they turn her.”
“How many other traitors hide in High Citadel?” Levi demanded—reckless, but his courage earned my admiration. “I saw how quickly the rats ran when Noa started fighting back.”
I watched the vampire behind Set—a male, with his lips pulled back. He let his fangs descend as if he didn’t care that I was watching.
Levi took another step toward Set, shaking.
“What about Brin-the-fake?” he snarled. “How did you fucking not know? And you sent us into the tunnels, where hybrids waited to rip us apart. Traps that killed Cybelle and Njal. Us, too, if we hadn’t gotten out.”
Set let her gaze linger on Levi for a second too long. My wolf growled low in my chest.
She turned toward me. “The hybrids are your responsibility, since an elder in Sentinel Falls is selling captives to Barend. If you’d cleaned it up, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Set’s accusation had first come from Levi. He’d told me what was said in the tunnels, the argument between Julien and Cybelle. Later, Laura confirmed it, and Mace had already sent his spies out to search for information. “What proof do you have?”
“Only that this elder operates in your northern quadrant, hides near the Alpen and the glaciers. We’ve been hunting him for months.”
Months where she hadn’t told me, even though she could have. “Excuses, Set. How eager were you to find him?”
Her cape flared, and I waited for the moment when realization hit—a dread lord’s power had disturbed her clothing, not the breeze.
“How eager are you, wolf?”
“We’re gathering evidence,” I said. “We’ll find the elder, if he exists, and the retribution will be bloody and not swift.”
“I need more.” Set raised her chin. “Hybrids were and still are wolves. Between Amal and Barend, too many of them run loose. You are the Alpha of Sentinel Falls—a dread lord. You have the ability and the obligation to kill them.”
“You’ve killed them before.”
“With casualties we can no longer afford in this growing war.”
I supposed that, from her point of view, it was a reasonable request. Killing rogues was the Alpha’s duty. But it was the debt I owed Julien that drove me. Killing hybrids was an atonement for Julien. The perfect answer. Revenge for a friend. My weight shifted as I nodded.
“Martel has moved on,” I said. Martel was the vampire who’d helped us after Noa had been taken. “He can trace your money. The Alpha of Cariboo is dead,” I added. “And there’s a vampire pinned to the wall in Amal’s fortress—if he’s your missing vampire, he’s not in great shape. Amal is capturing alphas, experimenting on ways to strip their wolves away, and if she succeeds, she’ll decimate the packs. We won’t be able to fight back.”
“Then we focus on alliances.” Set turned her head to the side, then back. “Months ago, I tasked Julien with the research, and what he discovered… the information may have turned him into a target. Barend would have been concerned. Amal, certainly. Perhaps others.”
Set held out her hand for a small book one female held. “I sent teams into the tunnels to discover what went wrong. Barend’s hybrids destroyed Njal. But Amal’s taint was also present—where we found the backpacks. The book was inside and left behind. This…”
The vampire held the book out to me, her white cape moving as if the weather—and not my power—had grown as coldly agitated as the woman. “This is Amal’s journal. I wanted Noa to have it. Perhaps you’ll find it useful.”
I motioned to Mace. He took the book, small enough to slip inside his shirt. “What did Julien discover?”
“More than he discussed with me,” Set murmured. “I fear the knowledge cost him his life.”
“Set.” I breathed in. “I’m sorry about Julien.”
Her gaze turned empty before she looked at Levi. “You were close to him when it happened?”
“I was right there.” Bleeding out, his blood pooling too close to the ash.
Set took a single step toward Levi. “Tell me—what did you see?”
“We were running, fighting. Noa wanted Brin’s help. She called to her, but Brin—she had this expression.” His face hardened. “Like she was smiling. Only it was cruel. And someone—a man—ran up behind Julien. With a spear.”
“He impaled Julien?”
“Back to front. And Julien just looked down. Then at Noa. And I was watching Brin. Her hands were out. Flames. She burned him. Before we even moved.”
Set’s expression never changed. Instead, she asked, very, very quietly. “What color was the smoke?”
“What?” Levi’s mouth dropped open, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“The smoke,” she repeated tightly. “What color?”
“Black—grayish—fuck, I don’t know. It was this oily black.” Levi rubbed his free hand across his face. The spear he held jerked.
I placed a hand on Levi’s arm, although my attention was on Set.
“Why?”
Set—Julien’s sire, a woman who was once Cleopatra’s handmaiden—flicked her hand. Vampires disappeared, leaving mist trails.
“Because…” Something dangerous glowed in her black eyes. “When a vampire burns, the smoke isn’t gray or black. It’s red. Blood red.”