26. Slay thy Kin
Slay thy Kin
G eralt groaned, rolling onto his side, trying not to irritate the claw marks slashed across his torso. The night sky winked down at him. A new moon darkened the sky, Selene’s bane.
His limbs felt weak as he pushed himself to his hands and knees. Unfocused eyes searched for his packmates, Rex, Brice, and Gabriel’s brother. Darkness greeted him. Ryker snarled and clawed in his mind, but the absence of the moon weakened them.
Geralt held little hope for shifting, his wounds healing slowly. Animalistic rogues gave up the reins to their beasts, making them more vulnerable than fully shifted Lycans during the phases of the new moon. It served as his only advantage when they attacked Geralt and his packmates, oblivious to the coming threat.
If the rogues possessed the ability to reason, they’d have recognized the signs of the new moon’s appearance. His legs trembled, buckling under the weight he attempted forcing on them. Urgency clawed beneath his skin. Mate , Ryker whimpered weakly .
Bare feet stumbled forward, disturbing fallen leaves, twigs, and the nests of inferior creatures. Except for the occasional whimper from Ryker , his mind felt eerily quiet. He refused to believe his warriors died beneath the claws of rogues.
“Sebastian!” he shouted, disturbing the night air. Nocturnal creatures hooted back at him, complaining of the disturbance, no doubt. If any of them survived, he placed his bet on Sebastian. The male lived as a rogue for years before joining Crescent Moon pack, even outliving a mate, something few survived.
“Rex! Brice!” Geralt called out, ignoring the scampering of creatures underfoot, insects buzzing around his head. Greta, Ryker whispered, voice growing faint. Fuck, he thought. He needed to find his warriors and return to his pack.
He couldn’t lose another mate. Limping through the woods, calling out the warriors’ names, he held hope close, blowing on the dying ember. But doubts and skepticism swam unbound in his mind. Only Ella knew he was traveling to the Silver Lake pack.
Outside of his pack, only his cousin knew he returned with a witch after fleeing the deathly claws of Redwoods. A growl rumbled in his chest, betrayal splintering through his heart. Ella conveniently visited his pack, informing him of an escaped witch. Scared, little Beta Ella whined about Abbigail’s abuses at the hands of the king.
Geralt kept stumbling forward, like the stupid animal he was born to be, shocked he hadn’t unearthed the truth sooner. He never considered himself a kin slayer, but there was a first time for everything. Besides, is it really kin slaying if you’re only related through marriage?
Only the mocking calls of animals claiming the darkened woods home answered him. He grinned, breaking open the split in his lip, tongue sweeping out to taste his own blood. He couldn’t wait to teach a certain Beta a lesson about what happened when you tempted the big bad wolf. Renewed vigor stiffened his limbs, carrying him forward toward vengeance and home.