Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
The gate groaned open, and three dozen tree houses shone in the night.
Crafted from enormous willow trees the width of thirty to forty men, the Thorns lived above the forest ground.
Rope bridges connected the tree houses like streets.
Some establishments were built on posts between trees, the Wasted Willow a tavern at the center where Eldrick had stumbled from a few too many times.
Erik slid down a ladder. “Come, you can leave the horses in the ground stables for the night, and I’ll take you to Alpha Thorn. It is good to see you both.”
Eldrick and Bétar dismounted their horses and shed their travels. After a fresh set of dry clothes from his pack and the stiffness of riding flushing out of his legs, he and Bétar followed Erik up a set of stairs that spiraled up the trunk of a tree.
At the top, they took a series of bridges and platforms until they reached the alpha’s fortress.
More longhouse than tree house, the building stretched between two willows, branches framing the front and rear.
Extra posts angled in crossed patterns held the longhouse in place, and the wooden frame and roof featured carvings of dancing wolves and a waning moon.
Inside, sweet hickory burned inside a cauldron-like hearth.
The smoke traveled through an open window built into the ceiling.
Rain hissed against the flames but was no match for the fire’s intense heat.
At the end, Alpha Leif Thorn laughed with his mate while his young daughter sat on his lap.
His long hair reached to his navel, covering his Thorn maroon tunic, while a thick dark beard framed his grin.
He lifted his goblet to drink, stilling it at his lips as he caught sight of Erik, Bétar, and Eldrick. His smile grew, and he rose, lifting his daughter with him and saddling her on his hip as he approached them.
“Uncle,” Erik said. “I’ve brought Alpha—“
“Eldrick will do,” he said, grasping the young werewolf’s shoulder.
Leif grumbled, grasping Eldrick’s arm in greeting. “Aye, let them say it. It’s a reminder not just to those around but to ourselves, too.”
Leif’s father and mother had passed five years ago during a scáths attack.
Leif had ascended as alpha at sixty years old—though he looked the same age as Eldrick—which was fairly young for an alpha.
Eldrick wondered if Bjorn had bullied Thorn for that very reason and perhaps pride, the need to appear collected—a feeling Eldrick knew all too well—was why Thorn hadn’t leaned on the other alphas.
“I hope we aren’t intruding, but we’re here on urgent matters,” Eldrick said.
“Come. Sit,” Leif said. “Are you both hungry?”
“Starving.” Bétar rubbed his hands together.
“As am I,” Erik said.
Leif rolled his eyes, nudging his nephew with elbow.
“I know your mother feeds you, Erik. You emptied half of Thorn’s stores with that endless appetite.
Alpha, Commander. Join us. Eat. Please make yourselves comfortable.
Ah, and this beautiful werewolf” —Leif planted a kiss on the female’s temple— “is my mate, Rue.”
Leif busied himself pouring goblets of mead and pushed them across the table.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Eldrick said to Rue. “We appreciate you letting us interrupt family dinner.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Rue smiled up at him, and it reached all the way to her warm brown eyes.
“Your visit gives me a chance to say thank you for saving Erik, my sister’s son.
I hear you both were part of the team that got him.
” Her eyes danced as they skated across Eldrick and Bétar. “Along with the vampyr queen.”
Eldrick assessed both Rue’s tone and Leif’s reaction to the mention of Tovi, but unlike Rue’s gratitude, Leif bristled. Perhaps discussing Eldrick’s alliance with Tovi wasn’t wise.
“I appreciate that,” Eldrick said, “but I think the bravery of those young werewolves is overlooked.”
Bétar nodded, lifting a mug towards Erik, who was far too consumed with the potatoes he dipped in gravy.
“Well, you can all blame Erik. He never gives us a chance to commend what he endured. He goes on about you all nonstop. Eldrick this and Eldrick that, and You should’ve seen the vampyr queen in action!”
“What about me?” Bétar scoffed. “I was there, ya know?”
Rue wiggled her brows. “Well, we did hear all about your mate, the archer. She’s never missed a shot, according to Erik. He’s mentioned her skills at least a hundred times.”
The young werewolf paused mid-bite. “That isn’t true.”
The female alpha scoffed. “It is so, and hush, or I’ll tell your ma you’re arguing at the alpha’s table.”
Erik narrowed his gaze and sank deeper into his seat, sights falling back to his plate of potatoes.
Leif’s grin faltered a fraction. “Are you here to discuss the Earl vote?”
“Yes, but my pack also needs to bargain for some grain,” Eldrick said.
“Grain?” Leif and Rue shared a look. “Did you lose it during Prince Riven’s attack?”
Eldrick shook his head and sighed. He’d mulled this over during his journey. Played out different scenarios and conversations. What did he gain if revealed Bjorn had done this? What did he lose? Did he appear weak, tattling to the other alphas, or did they deserve to know who they were voting for?
“Mold has infested half, and there’s evidence it was planted.” He ran his fingers over the rim of his cup, again gauging their reaction.
Rue straightened. “That bastard.”
Bétar leaned forward in his chair. “You’ll have to be more specific. There’s been more than one as of late.”
“Bjorn,” Leif said, hand tightening on the arm of his chair. “He didn’t tamper with our grain, but he stole our resources before the decree vote.”
Rue growled, baring his teeth. “His daughter carried out the siege under Bjorn’s command. I welcomed her into our village, not knowing she had an agenda. She’s a fucking snake.”
Eldrick weighed his next words carefully. “If you’re well aware of Bjorn’s true character, why vote for him?”
Leif and Rue shared another silent conversation, and with a small nod from his mate, Leif handed his daughter to Erik. “You’re on uncle duty. Eldrick, there’s something my mate and I’d like to show you.”
Bétar shrugged, pulling his plate closer. “I’ll remain here, where it’s warm and not raining.”
Eldrick rolled his eyes. Leif and Rue led the way up stairs that climbed through the longhouse until a hallway deposited them onto the upper level outside.
A single bridge across led to the northern section of the wall.
Those on watch bowed their heads to the mated alphas and whispered good evening to Eldrick.
The three of them stopped at an overlook tower. Light flickered ahead, and Eldrick narrowed his eyes.
“Do you have scouts outside the village?”
“No, Bjorn does.” Leif braced his hand on the balcony. “They watch our village, intimidate my pack if they leave the walls. The harvest this autumn was brutal.”
Anger flushed through Eldrick, but he inhaled and exhaled. One, two.
“Why didn’t you seek my father’s help?” he finally asked.
Rue crossed her arms. “Claus was in Bjorn’s back pocket and whispered too much into your father’s ear. We worried that spreading news of his argument, merging the Thorn and Johannes packs, would make it all that much louder.”
Eldrick winced. He agreed with Leif’s assessment and hated the truth—he’d have put aside pack and pride and only looked at the angle of strength and numbers. Facts, not his heart. Now, his wolf howled at Bjorn’s disrespect towards Thorn land and Leif’s right as alpha.
He rallied his breath. “If I earn your vote—“
“Bjorn took twenty of my best werewolves, Eldrick,” Leif said. “I can’t cast my vote and say your name. There’s no telling what he’ll do to them.”
“Why, in the stars above, did he take your pack members?”
Rue blinked back tears, and Leif grasped her hand.
Both their wrists gleamed with the alpha tattoo, the intricate design a continuation from one to the other.
The sight of them together as a united front jarred the whisperings of the prophecy in the back of Eldrick’s mind, and sadness settled over him like the wet clothes had stuck to his skin.
The night cold didn’t sting as much when he felt alone, at least.
“Bjorn asked for a trade, twenty of my best in exchange for my resources back,” Leif said. “We were going to refuse, but our warriors volunteered. The pack came first, and we needed the resource to last the winter.”
Eldrick shook his head. “It’ll only get worse if he wins the vote, Leif. You’ve had to consider that. He might not permit your werewolves to return home, not with the war looming.”
“But what is worse? Having them taken from us or hurt because of my decision?” Leif’s nostrils flared, and Rue tightened her hand over his. “You’ve not been alpha for very long, Eldrick, but it is a series of weighing pros and cons about how to protect your pack.”
“But it’s more than our packs now.” The words shot out of Eldrick before he thought them through.
He’d come here intending to get grain for his pack above all else, Leif’s vote secondary, but the more he stepped foot into the weeds of politics, the more he discovered how unnecessarily tangled it all was.
This was more than surviving the winter, more than protecting their territory.
It was defeating the darkness.
Perhaps it was the whispering of the prophecy that fueled his next words. Eldrick was certain he believed them down to his soul.
“There is a curse to break and a homeland to save. Bjorn will not lead the werewolves to that future. His pride may as well be a demon wreaking havoc across the Vadon Mountains.”
“How do we protect our pack against either future, Eldrick?” Rue asked. “We are damned either way.”
“If Bjorn hurts the Thorns after the vote, you have the Drengrs as allies,” Eldrick said, hating the last word—this was werewolf against werewolf when it shouldn’t have been.
Leif shook his head. “If Bjorn wins the vote, can we fight the magic of his command? The Earl title possesses a magical baritone alphas must answer to.”
“Then vote for me.” Eldrick jabbed his finger into the air. “Tomorrow I will travel to the Drabek territory, then Alland and Lindstrom. If I win them over, that is four votes, including my own, against Bjorn. Be my fifth and guarantee the title falls to the Drengrs.”
Leif hissed, pulling out of his mate’s hold and leaning his elbows against the tower’s balcony. Wind whistled through the night. Sleet tinged against the tree house village. Rue slid her hand up her mate’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“He’s right, my love.”
Leif shut his eyes and hung his head. “I know.”
Rue moved her hand to his chin, making Leif look at her. Silence rang as they stared at one another, and as their expressions shifted, Eldrick recognized that they were mind-linking, something he’d seen his parents do during meetings, too.
He shifted on uneasy feet, waiting. Moons, if Leif agreed, it’d make the scar running across his heart worth it.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll give your village ten warriors from the Drengr Pack.”
Both Leif and Rue whirled.
“What?” she said. “If we take them, we’re no worse than Bjorn—“
Eldrick shook his head. “This is different. Thorn is a fraction of the size of the Johannes and Drengrs. To have lost twenty of your best during these times is too great a risk. I’ll send word and have them arrive within the week. Hopefully, it should show the type of Earl you’d vote for.”
Leif nodded, a sound of agreement rumbling through his chest. “It does, Eldrick. You have the Thorns’ vote, but on one more condition.”
“Name it,” Eldrick said.
“I’m coming with you to visit the southern packs.”