Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Eldrick
Snow had melted in the southern werewolf territory.
It left the pines and evergreens bare, a deep green stretching across Eldrick’s homeland, a welcome contrast to the gray blanketing the sky.
Songbirds shot from tree to tree, their chirping a spirit-lifting sound.
Winter still lay in the breeze, but so did saplings and wet dirt after a rain shower.
If Eldrick and his traveling companions, Bétar and Alpha Thorn, kept pace, they’d reach the Drabek Village by sundown.
“Tell me, Alpha,” Leif stared. “Where is the vampyr queen?”
“North,” Eldrick said. “Gathering support of her own.”
Leif grunted. “Any news?’
Eldrick shook his head, keeping his expression neutral. “Not of late.”
He bent the truth; Eldrick hadn’t heard from Tovi since they’d parted ways at the cave. He tried to convince himself that no news was good news, but their last conversation replayed in his mind, and he wagered the lack of correspondence was also avoidance. But did she owe him an update?
“The other alphas will care if there’s progress in the north,” Leif said. “Does she plan to meet with the alphas before the Earl vote?”
Eldrick’s brows pinched, and he studied Thorn. He found the alpha trustworthy, kind-hearted in a world so hel-bent on finding darkness, but also direct.
He sighed, weighing his next words. “No, she and I feared her . . . presence might hurt my chances of securing the vote. She is a vampyr after all.”
Leif hummed, eyebrows shooting up. “Ah, that’s probably wise.”
Eldrick tightened his grip on his reins, heart dropping like a stone to his gut.
Bétar snorted. “How can the alphas believe she’s any different than Riven if they don’t allow her to demonstrate it?”
Leif shook his head. “It’s centuries’ worth of prejudice. She can’t undo it in weeks.”
Eldrick reared straighter, failing to rally his frustration with the alpha’s flippant attitude towards Tovi. “If it wasn’t for her, your nephew wouldn’t have made it out of Drystan.”
“Which I’m grateful for, but”—he peered over at Eldrick, tone turning serious—“I was there that night when they killed my parents, ya know? It’s not something I’ll easily forget, especially when I come face-to-face with the vampyr queen, knowing her family started the curse that created scáths.
Perhaps an alliance with her is necessary, but it doesn’t mean she deserves a warm welcome in the Vadon Mountains. ”
Leif trotted his horse ahead, leaving Eldrick with his reeling thoughts.
“I don’t agree with him,” Bétar said in a hushed tone. “The Gray Fenris changed their opinions because we got to know Tovi. The other alphas simply need to give her a chance.”
Eldrick sighed. “It’s a shame none of you can cast a vote for Earl.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bétar said. “Though, I think if the other alphas witnessed your relationship with Tovi, they’d understand.”
“But we aren’t just allies, Bétar. It’s messy. That might hurt us.”
His friend raised a red bushy brow, expression suggestive. “I believe the word I used was relationship.”
Eldrick’s backside melted into his saddle, and Bétar laughed at his expense, pointing an accusatory finger at his face. “Take it from a male who avoided such things, that’s far messier.”
He trotted his horse to ride alongside Leif’s, and the two older mated males murmured amongst themselves. Eldrick stewed in his own thoughts, tracing the silver ink of his alpha tattoo.
He’d chosen this, not Tovi. For good reason, it seemed. Leif was less inclined to accept Tovi, considering his past with vampyrs, and he wasn’t the only werewolf that had been hurt by the curse.
Eldrick, for a long time, had hated vampyrs, too. But his opinion changed after he’d gotten to know Tovi. Relationship aside, he admired her for being a fierce leader to her people and Sorin. Could he convince the alphas of that? Could Tovi?
He didn’t doubt it, but instead feared the mess he and Tovi were in.
Would it distract them both? Draw them farther and farther from their duties?
If Eldrick lost the vote because of his heart’s yearning, he’d never forgive himself.
He’d lose what he’d trained for all his life, what his heart beat for.
Home.
Yet, as Eldrick repeated the words to himself, his heart didn’t expand at the sight of the trees but at the reminder of a softer green and the power that gaze had over him.
Eldrick sighed as they entered rockier terrain. Pebbles covered the path, and around them, boulders jutted from the ground. Trees clung to the stony surface with gnarled roots. The temperature dropped, and the songbirds ceased singing.
Eldrick’s wolf surfaced, alert. Ahead, Leif and Bétar had straightened in their saddles. The commander tilted his head, listening while Thorn scanned the forest.
Movement had them halting on the path. Eldrick sniffed the air, while one hand dropped to the hilt of his axe.
“It’s friendly folk.” Siv Drabek emerged from the trees with another werewolf Eldrick recognized, Gyda, two werewolves they’d saved in Drystan, and—
“Sam,” Eldrick said, a smile fighting through his rigid exterior from earlier. He dismounted his horse and tipped his head in greeting.
“Alphas,” the young Magu said, nodding to both Eldrick and Leif. His attention fell to Bétar next. “Commander.”
“Aye, does this mean your father’s visiting the Drabek Pack?” Bétar asked.
“I’m afraid so.” Sam frowned.
Eldrick shared a knowing look with Bétar and sighed. “Still, Drabek Village is farther south. What brought you three up this far?”
Gyda frowned, sharing a grave look with Siv. “We were scouting and smelled anise on the wind.”
“It led us here,” Siv whispered. “The air felt too similar to Drystan.”
“Like dark magic?” Bétar asked, raising a rusty-colored brow.
Sam shook his head. “No, like the land was touched by the curse.”
A chilly sensation crept up Eldrick’s spine, his wolf growing restless.
As if the land mirrored his instinct, the ground beneath his boots quaked.
Pebbles tremored. Dust burst from the cracks in the cliffs, the land cracking.
Their horses reared back and retreated, despite Eldrick’s attempt to keep them calm.
The air thinned like all its moisture had been sucked away.
They stood. Waited. Held their breath. And then—
Screams ripped across the forest followed by a demon’s roar, and Siv unsheathed her sword and charged north.
“Wait!” Eldrick hissed, chasing after her.
Sam cursed while Gyda shouted after her friend. Leif and Bétar raced after them.
Eldrick grasped his axe, mindful of his steps against the still shaking ground. He grabbed Siv by the elbow before she burst from the trees.
“Let me go!” she snarled.
“Yield!” Eldrick growled, using his alpha baritone.
Siv shuddered, lowering her weapon, and backed up a step. “I won’t allow the things I endured in Drystan into my homeland,” she breathed.
Eldrick’s chest heaved, and he rallied patience and used a gentler tone as the others caught up. “You have no idea what’s out there and revealing yourself unprepared won’t help your cause.”
Siv gritted her teeth and remained silent, anger blooming in her young eyes.
Eldrick ignored the ire as he tread on light feet to conceal himself behind a tree, then dropped to his haunches.
Across the glade, three ialtóg demons attacked a farmstead. The demons resembled bats but were ten time bigger. And far hungrier.
One feasted on an unlucky goat, its flat snout covered in blood while another flapped its black leathery wings and lifted a cow into the air. The third chased after half a dozen werewolves retreating into the storehouse. They shut the door just as the demon collided into it.
Its deafening screech grated up Eldrick’s spine.
The other two ialtógs grew tired of their half-eaten meals and joined the larger of the three. They climbed up the storehouse and began tearing into the straw of the thatched roof.
“Moons,” Bétar breathed.
“Ialtógs this far east and out in the open,” Leif whispered, hunkered behind another tree a few yards away. “That’s bizarre.”
Eldrick agreed—ialtógs preferred the mountains, dwelling in caves. He rallied his wolf, sniffed, and sensed the land. Darkness sucked the liveliness from the forest air and replaced it with a sticky otherness. “We need to help them—”
“What we should do is attack.” Siv fisted her hands at her sides, knuckles whitening.
“May I remind you of your place amongst alphas,” Eldrick said cooly.
“These are Drabek lands,” she said. “I’ll not stand around and do nothing.”
Eldrick ground his teeth and marched towards the unit, seething. They didn’t have time for the hearts of young valiant warriors that were borderline foolish.
“Acting out of anger will only get us killed and the farmstead will be no better off than when we found them. If you wish to make a difference, you’ll listen to my command.”
“He’s right, Siv,” Sam said.
Siv blinked, relaxing a fraction, recognition and trust passed between them.
“Fine,” she huffed. “What’s your plan?”
“There are three demons, six of us. We divide into teams of two and each face one of the ialtógs.”
Bétar unsheathed his sword. “This should be fun.”
“Sam, you’re with me,” Eldrick said. “Leif and Gyda pair off, and Siv and Bétar, work together. Let’s go.”
With axe in hand, Eldrick led the charge out of the trees and released a warrior’s bellow. Two ialtógs took notice, launching off the storehouse and gliding on leathery wings towards them.
An arrow pierced one of their wings, and the smaller of three lost it’s balance in the air.
“Nice shot!” Leif called to Gyda.
The female werewolf nodded, nocking a second arrow. She released, and it hits its mark, lodging into the demon’s belly.
The other ialtóg screeched, baring its long, black fangs. It dove towards Bétar and Siv, who braced with swords at the ready.