Chapter Six
DIERK
Ikept training.
The full moon was in a day.
The Princess was scheming.
The combination was fire under my skin and chains around my throat. It made every swing, every strike, every breath harder. Wrong.
With the Alpha back, Gerhard couldn’t make it to the cottage every day. Matthis took his place. He was leaner than me or the Commander, built for speed and agility, not strength. Fighting him should have been easier.
It wasn’t.
The dog was quick, precise, and vicious.
He knew exactly where to land a strike to maximize pain.
He moved fast enough to deliver more often than I could block.
Worse, he narrated the damn thing as he went.
Told me why and how each blow would cripple me in a real fight, then proceeded to land it.
Prowlers were supposed to be silent, ghosts in the shadows.
How could this loud-mouthed bastard be the best of them?
And now they’d started mixing fire into the training. I’d fight either Gerhard or Matthis while the Princess hurled flames at me.
“Shield,” she’d say, again and again, after another blaze slashed across my shoulder, back, legs. Wherever. “Call your fire. Build a wall. Fire isn’t just hunger; it isn’t just burn. You make it hold.”
She pissed me off the most. Not because she burned me constantly.
She’d stopped touching me during training. She still guided me, still grounded me, still made handling the fire bearable. But the steady hold of her hand, the warmth of contact, were gone.
And she’d bound her scent. Tight. Not even a whiff of forest and flowers.
My wolf paced, restless, and I growled low, frustration gnawing at me for the sudden distance, for the coldness.
And it was for me only. Nothing in her had changed with the others.
I didn’t give a shit. She could do as she pleased, as long as she kept training me. But I didn’t understand the reason.
Maybe now that she had me working, fighting, buying into her reckless plan that was bound to get us all killed, she didn’t need to bait me anymore. Didn’t need those little, useless moments that felt like a male and a female talking about nothing.
I never trusted her friendliness. I should’ve listened to that. Should’ve fought harder against my wolf and his obsession with her. With her wolf.
Damned wolves.
Fine with me. She had me working and fighting. That was all she wanted. That was all she’d get. And I’d have my revenge.
Matthis came out of the forest running at a dead speed, cutting my thoughts short.
I’d been training, sweat coating my body, dirt smeared on my chest where Gerhard had flattened me after the Princess’ fire made me look the wrong way.
The Prowler shifted the second he reached us. Panting, he marched the last part of the way. “One of my Prowlers reports a roundup in the eastern hamlet,” he said, voice hard. “By the old mill. Two miles east.”
Gerhard swore.
The Princess’ back snapped straight. Her nod was tight, soldier-clean. “Who?”
Matthis’ mouth twisted, and he spat into the dirt. “Tax collectors.” His pause said everything. “Tonight.”
She’d been ignoring me for days, unless she was hurling fire at me, so I turned to Gerhard for clarification. “Explain.”
To my surprise, she cut in. Her voice was steady, but I heard the anger under it.
“Tax collectors will round up villagers from the eastern hamlet who couldn’t pay.
They will–” She dragged in a breath, shoulders stiffening like she had to wrestle her hatred down just to spit out the words.
“They’ll throw them in a pit for a few days.
Sometimes a week. According to the Alpha, it’s an example.
A show of what happens if you don’t obey his stellar, wise ruling. ”
And then she looked at me.
Not like I was a blade she’d been sharpening, but like a male she could speak to.
My wolf shoved against my chest, wanting that look, eating it up like marrow.
I wanted to bite it out of her face. Because she’d given me that, but then taken it away for no reason.
“He’ll do it over the full moon,” she went on, her flared nostril betraying her rage under the absolute calm. “Because it’s when our wolves need to run the most. Packing them into a pit, no food, no water, will drive them near feral.”
I went statue-still, and the world narrowed to the drum of my blood. To the call of revenge. The wolf pressed against my chest, throat rumbling a warning that made my spine vibrate. My jaw clenched until it hurt. Silence sat in my mouth like salt.
“And he never cries over the ones who end up shredded to pieces,” Gerhard said. “Says their wolves weren’t strong enough. No need for them anyway.”
Matthis and Gerhard started tossing ideas back and forth. I only half-heard.
Because she was quiet.
Her hands were clasped at her waist, calm as a portrait.
But her knuckles were bone-white, and her eyes were green fire.
No matter how she bound her scent, no matter how she chained her wolf, mine caught her fury and wanted to rip apart the world with it.
My wolf prowled under my skin, pacing, snarling, hunting.
Then she spoke. Calm. Terrifying. “We’re not going to let him do it.”
It silenced the others more efficiently than a blade to the throat.
Matthis smirked, crossing his arms. “And there she is,” he chuckled. Then, to me, “She always has these ideas when she gets quiet.”
Gerhard exhaled, heavy. “Numbers?”
“Fifteen collectors. Around fifty villagers,” Matthis said.
“All males?”
“No.”
“Bastard,” Gerhard muttered.
I could put together what that meant. Males and females caged together under a full moon? It wasn’t punishment. It was serving a slaughter. Locked up wolves driven by hunger and frenzy would tear at each other to mate, to kill.
“We’ll stop them before they’re thrown in the pit,” she said, so quietly she might as well be talking about lunch. “When the villagers see they have help, a way out, they might join us and help.”
“It’s only fifteen collectors,” I said.
Three pairs of eyes cut to me.
“I can take half of them alone on first contact. With an ambush, more.”
Matthis barked a laugh. “This male.... Maybe wolf to wolf. But what about fire? They’re all trained in it. Their power is strong.”
I looked at her. “So is yours.”
Gerhard’s growl rumbled deep, enough to shake the ground. “She’s not going to be part of it.”
“Why?” I crossed my arms, never even glancing at him. He didn’t matter. Only she did. “Do you want to keep your hands clean while we do the dirty job?”
Her spine lengthened like a sword being drawn. Her chin lifted. And her wolf, that elusive shadow I could barely catch, snapped at me.
Gerhard snarled, but she ignored him, too. “I never take part because my wolf is too weak to fight,” she said, steady. “I’d be a distraction.”
“You don’t have to fight,” I told her. “Just do what you do best. Use your fire. We’ll do the rest.”
The look she gave me set my wolf howling. That spark in her eyes was mine. I’d lit it. My wolf wagged, tail beating like I’d just given him the kill of a lifetime.
I despised him for it.
She stepped to Gerhard, laying her hand on his arm. I knew that touch. I could still feel it on my skin, even if days had passed. And I hated it on him. I hated her for giving it away freely.
“No,” Gerhard growled.
“Shockingly, I’m with Gerhard on this one,” Matthis said.
“I can’t stay aside anymore,” she said, her voice gentler. “We’re in too deep. And he’s right.” She stepped away from Gerhard.
Came closer to me.
My wolf damn near wagged his whole body.
I would have strangled him with my bare hands for it if I could.
“The time when I could stay aside is gone. I know I’m weak. But I don’t have to fight with my wolf. I can wield fire from thirty feet out. It’s far enough to stay safe. And if I must, I can run.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Like the hare.”
That hare. One of the few, soft pieces of herself she’d given me. She knew what she was doing, throwing it at me now. And it worked. My rage tilted, smoothed at the edges.
I hated her for it. Hated myself more.
“Any way of changing your mind?” Gerhard asked after a long silence.
“No.”
“Then we plan this to perfection,” he said, resigned. “Because we won’t let a hair be taken from you.”
He could be certain of that.
Anyone who touched her? I’d rip their heart out with my claws.
ELSKE
THE FOREST WAS BLACK under the pines, their boughs creaking overhead, the scent of resin thick enough to coat my tongue. We crouched at the edge where the trees thinned, close enough to get to the pit quickly, but far enough to vanish if a scout passed. Our scents were all bound. We were ghosts.
“One last time before we move in,” Gerhard repeated. His voice was iron under his breath.
He pointed at Dierk. “You’re our front line. You’ll lead the charge and take the brunt of the combat. Forget fire for now. Wolf to wolf is your only option until you can master it better.”
He only growled in answer, low and pleased, a sound that rumbled like a faraway thunder. His wolf welcomed it, relished the promise of blood.
“My lady.” Gerhard turned to me, his eyes even. “Are you sure?”
“Once again, yes.”
“Then you’re our long-ranged fire and the Stray’s shield. Keep fire from him. Disrupt their formations. Burn barriers. But keep. Your. Distance. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Commander Ironfang.”
He nodded once, not satisfied, but knowing orders were the only rope we had to shape this madness into something resembling a plan.
“I’ll cover the Stray’s back,” he continued.
“I’ll stay at his side unshifted to deal with the ones who wield fire.
Matthis, you and your two Prowlers strike as a second wave if needed.
Otherwise, cut chains, open escape routes for the people.
And make sure none of the tax dogs leave.
” He looked over us all. “Six of us against fifteen of them.”
Dierk scoffed. “I’ve made it out of brawls with worse odds.”