Ryan
We’re met in Endova by warriors armed to the teeth. The sun has set, and the village is glowing with torches, the fire at the village center burning brighter than usual. I’d sent scouts ahead of us by several hours to inform Jerrod of our earlier than anticipated arrival, but they’re nowhere to be seen, and that sinking sensation in my stomach explodes as we walk into the village, and Jerrod rushes toward us, his eyes wide with both stress and relief to see Shoshannah safe and sound.
The wound on my back throbs as Jerrod wordlessly ushers us into his meeting hall. Still in our wolf forms, Jacob and I are given clothes and left alone to change while Jerrod scoops up Shoshannah and takes her away to be tended to.
“Let me see it,” Jacob insists, grabbing my arm to turn me around. He hisses out a breath. “It’s deep, man.”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I lie, pulling my shirt over the long, jagged gash on the left side of my back. I’m not sure if it was the bloody spear or an arrow that caused the wound, but it doesn’t matter. Something happened here within the last six hours since we left Silverhide and our best scouts, Grey and Hunter, are presumably missing.
Just as I assume the worst, Hunter strides through the door, followed by Grey. Hunter, with short, dark hair and even darker eyes, nods to us in hello, breathless. Grey looks equally as stressed, running his fingers through his sandy blond hair.
“What happened?” I ask roughly, pouring myself a drink from a random pitcher on one of the long tables where a meal was laid out and quickly abandoned. I chug what tastes like mead–flat, but sweet–letting the alcohol numb the ache in my back.
“It was quiet until an hour ago,” Grey says, panting.
Hunter adds, “Everyone was sitting down for dinner. We were outside the meeting hall, talking with a few of the Endovian warriors, shooting the shit, when screaming interrupted us. A group of what the elders believe are Navvan warriors tore through the outer ring of the village.”
Jacob glances at me before asking, “Why?”
“No one knows yet. It was chaos trying to get the women and children to safety. The Endovian warriors put up a fight and pushed them out, and me and Grey were able to chase one down that tried to run and dragged him back.” Hunter crouches, and I notice both of my scouts are totally out of breath.
Grey adds, “The hostage was being interrogated by the elders when we left the village to try to track the Navvan warriors. They have a camp about six miles east of here, in the woods.”
“Were you seen?” I ask, and the men shake their heads.
“We stayed down wind. They had no idea we were there.”
“How many strong?” Jacob asks.
The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with a knife as Hunter replies, “Twenty at the camp.”
“We just faced five,” Jacob says to me.
I run my hand over my face. I was warned that the tribes occasionally fight, but Jacob and I were brutally attacked less than half an hour ago with a child in tow. For whatever reason, this seems like more than infighting.
The door to the meeting hall opens wide, and Jerrod walks in, followed by several elders, including Freya’s father. Jerrod runs his hand over his beard before motioning with his hands for us to sit down, lazily motioning to the food, but I shake my head. “What happened here?”
“Navvan has a new patriarch. Their elders are dead, from what we just learned,” Jerrod rushes out, looking exhausted. “I’ve just sent scouts to Teshka to inform them.”
“What do you mean the elders in Navvan are dead?” I say through gritted teeth. What I know about the tribal packs in these lands is that someone like Jerrod isn’t necessarily an Alpha. He’s the leader, the patriarch, but his council of elders back him up, helping to guide his decisions for the good of the pack. The elders are elected officials, and the patriarch is chosen from among them.
Jerrod grits his teeth, anger flaring behind his pale green eyes. Something isn’t right.
I turn to Jacob, tilting my head to our scouts, who are now sitting on the benches, drinking whatever they can get their hands on to cool their burning lungs. “Try to get in touch with Andrew and James through the mind-link. I want every man up, out of bed, and preparing to defend my territory if Navvan makes a move on us. If you can’t get ahold of them, send Grey back to Silverhide. Hunter can lead us to the Navvan camp nearby.”
Jacob nods and turns away, motioning for Grey and Hunter to follow him out of the meeting hall. I pace in front of the group of elderly men now cloistered nearby, watching my every movie. “What do you mean the elders are dead?” I repeat, my eyes meeting Jerrod’s.
“They were murdered by Hardan of Navvan, the patriarch's eldest son. He staged a coup and is now calling himself patriarch,” Jerrod breathes. “He killed his own father. An ally of mine. Dead.”
“He’s not a patriarch. He wasn’t elected to the role,” another elder cuts in coldly, spitting on the floor.
“You’re correct,” I rasp. “He just made himself an Alpha.” I look up at the ceiling, trying to clear my head. “What did the warrior from Navvan say about why they were attacking Endova?”
Jerrod makes a small noise in his throat and dismisses the other elders, telling them in passing to keep their warriors around the perimeter of the village. I watch them leave, tucking my hands behind my aching back. I know blood is starting to seep through the shirt I was given. It’s sticking to my skin.
Jerrod closes the massive doors and turns to me, his eyes downcast as he tucks his hands in the pockets of his cloak. “Hardan attempted to pay Aviva’s bride price several months ago in anticipation for the upcoming Harvest Festival, but I said no.”
His eyes meet mine, holding my gaze. He continues, “He offered again a few days ago and made it very clear that he’d have her, one way or another. He came here with his band of misfit warriors and demanded a presence with her. I refused. He didn’t take kindly to that.” He takes a breath as he begins to pace, picking up random goblets and setting them back on the table. “Aviva knew about Hardan’s desire to wed her, but she didn’t know the details. I kept that from her and Mercy.”
“What details?” My blood runs cold at the pained look on his face.
“Hardan is the worst kind of man.” He clears his throat, closing his eyes as he shakes his head. “Before he came to me asking for Aviva, he’d gone to Teshka to pursue the daughter of the patriarch there. Hardan’s reputation for being uncontrollable and rash had spread, and he was denied. Instead of leaving Teshka, he had the poor girl kidnapped from her bed and… he passed her around to his men.” He grits his teeth, cursing under his breath in the old tongue. “She never recovered. She died from her injuries a few weeks later after suffering endlessly. When Hardan came to me, talking about how he’d heard of Aviva, our huntress, our warrior princess, he wanted her. Not in the way a husband wants a wife, but he wanted to dominate her, bend her until she broke, and I could see it in his eyes. So I refused him, twice. And that second time, he told me I’d come to regret it. Then you showed up.”
He holds my gaze as my stomach twists. “You told me Aviva would die in those woods, but you weren’t talking about getting killed by rogues, were you?”
“No,” he says, nodding in confirmation.
“Why didn’t you tell me? My pack is at risk now. You realize that, right?”
“I didn’t tell you because, at the time, it didn't matter. Hardan was still under the yoke of his father’s command. I knew he was a stain on our kind, but I didn’t know he was capable of killing his own family, his younger brothers included.”
“So he came here to punish you for not giving him my wife?” I can’t think of Aviva in any other way. The idea of harm coming to her–of her, theoretically–being given to this man before I’d come into her life… it rips me to shreds. Aviva is tough as nails, but only on the outside. Inside, she’s soft, hiding her sensitivity behind a rock-hard shell of strength she can barely contain.
Jerrod nods, but fury coasts through my veins, burning my skin.
I step toward him, seething. “We are allies. You and I, Jerrod. I promised I’d take care of your daughter, and I won’t stand by and let a madman threaten her life and my pack. I have to act, which means Endova will be in the middle.”
“He killed four of our warriors tonight and maimed several villagers. We’re missing five of our women. He’s already declared war. We are on your side. You have my warriors behind you if you choose to pursue him.”
Rage licks up my spine, blurring the pain of the wound throbbing on my back. “I need forty of your men. I need them ready to leave in ten minutes.”
Jerrod nods but gives me a distant, empty look. “Navvan has the most skilled warriors out of the tribal packs.” He looks right at me, his expression cast in shadow as he asks, “If you don’t come back from their camp tonight, what will happen to Aviva?”
I think of my family, my mom especially. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I know Mom would love her, would be so happy for us both, and there’s a chance they’ll never meet. “Aviva will return here, to her home.”
I leave the meeting hall with a sour taste in my mouth. Jacob steps up to me looking hard and ready for whatever comes next, but out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mercy hanging around nearby, her eyes wide with worry as she watches Jacob cross the distance between us. He looks at her, takes a shallow breath, and turns his attention to me.
“Grey is on his way back to Silverhide. I told him not to stop. I couldn’t get through to anyone. I need him to do what he has to do to stop any Navvan warriors that might be headed that way.”
Fuck me, this is really bad. “We’re leaving in a few minutes for the camp. I asked for forty warriors from Endova. You and Hunter need to gather and prepare them. We’re taking out that entire fucking camp.”
Jacob nods and runs off, grabbing a slightly delirious and exhausted Hunter by the arm as they fall out of sight, swallowed by darkness.
But Mercy is suddenly beside me, clutching the sleeve of my shirt. She swallows so hard I wonder if she’s trying to choke back a sob as she asks, “How is she?” She looks up at me with eyes identical to her father’s. She and Aviva look so different, but that look… that sheltered look that hides the mass of roiling, conflicting emotions, is the same.
“She’s adjusting.”
Mercy nods, letting go of my sleeve to wipe her nose on the back of her hand. She looks at the spot between two earthen houses where Jacob disappeared, and I wonder, deep down, if something might have happened between the two of them. I’ve seen the same knowing look on Sarah and Kenna’s before. That same ache that comes with worrying about one's… mate.
“I’ll bring him back,” I tell her, giving her a cocky smile as my fury is replaced by adrenaline.
There’s one thing I’ve always loved more than women.
A fucking good fight.