Logan
I stare down at the words covering a single piece of pure-white paper. It’s my evening ritual these days, especially when I’m closeted away in this room, in these barracks, instead of in a tent or curled up in a ball in my wolf form somewhere in the rural Roguelands or desert of Tarsian. I glance at the two other letters beside the paper, both neatly folded, Lexa and Nora’s names written clearly, cleanly, just like Aviva expects.
She taught me how to read and write in the language of Eastonia and Crescent Falls. She was strict about it, forcing me to spend hours working on my penmanship, drilling the translations into my skull until I began to think and even dream in the language of my new home.
Even at nearly thirty, I still feel an obligation to check my work, to ensure the letters I send back to Silverhide are flawless, because Aviva still cares.
She’s always cared about me.
I’ve failed her in so many ways.
I fold up the letter I intend to send out through the post to Silverhide for Aviva, with a few lines for Ryan added toward the end, and put it in the stack.
The golden light of sunset filters through the blinds, casting shadows across my desk, across my fingers as I tap them on its surface.
I’ve spent my entire adult life training myself not to feel. Being a Ghost came naturally. I was made to do this–to be a warrior–to be merciless. But becoming a captain of this specialized army wasn’t my intention.
I didn’t mean to stay here this long.
I especially didn’t intend to be here long enough to find my mate.
“Fuck,” I murmur under my breath, running a down over my face. I scratch the stubble on my jaw, not used to it being there for this long. Three days of travel on patrol from Moonrise to Veiled Valley meant being in my wolf form for days on end, and stopping to keep myself groomed wasn’t part of the plan.
Even Evander didn’t care. We’d been in Tarsian for a month and a half, helping the Alpha King of Oasia deal with a rogue criminal enterprise that we believe has its fingers all over Eastonia.
I shouldn’t be spending my days dealing with thieves. I should have gone back by now, to Emberfyll, if there’s anything left of my homeland.
I grab the duffle bag that contains my entire life in its depths off the floor and toss it on the bed, reaching inside to find a change of clothes, when a knock sounds on the door.
“Come in,” I grind out.
The door creaks as it opens, spilling fluorescent light across the worn, gray wood floorboards. Nothing about the barracks is luxurious, by any means. The rooms here are all the same. A bed, a dresser, a desk. Captains get better rooms. I have my own bathroom and don’t have to sleep in a bunk bed, which is a blessing, I guess.
“Boss,” Helion says with a smirk as he steps into the room.
“You’re on leave,” I remind him dryly. “You can drop the formalities.”
Helion leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his white tank top. He’s one of the young ones–twenty-five–full of spite and fire. I was like him once. Ready to burn the world at the slightest inconvenience.
That type of man is actually the kind of warrior I want in my ranks. They’re the hardest to break but the best in situations that require immediate action, when the body must separate from the rational mind.
What kind of monster have I become?
“You doin’ anything on your leave?” he asks.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “It’s only two weeks. Didn’t have much in mind.”
“Not going to the Deadlands, then? I had it in mind to go with you, if so.”
“Yeah, well… it would take four days to get there by car. Doesn’t seem worth it.” I walk to the closet and pull a towel off the shelf, draping it over my shoulder.
“I mean, let me know if you change your mind.”
“What do you have to do in the Deadlands, Helion?” I ask, not necessarily curious. I’m willing to bet he’s trying to go see some girl, like usual.
He purses his lips, his cheeks going a bit rosy. His dark brown hair and bright blue eyes make him look like some wealthy, privately educated Alpha or Beta’s son from Crescent Falls… which is exactly what he is. His Wellington University sweatpants catch the light of the sunset as he props his thigh on the doorframe, smiling to himself. “Uh, there’s a girl I’ve been trying to see.”
I knew it. I smirk, shaking my head. “Good luck with that.”
“I need more than luck on my side for this one. Her Dad’s a patriarch. I doubt I’ll be able to get within a mile of her.”
“Bring him a gift,” I offer.
“What? Why?”
“Bring the man something valuable. He’ll give you his daughter in return.”
“Is that true?”
I smile to myself as I gather a change of clothes and my towel, and step past him through the door. “Yeah. It’s how the Alpha King of the Deadlands ended up with his queen.”
“Commander Aviva was given to him?”
“So the story goes.”
I turn out of my room and walk steadily down the hallway toward the indoor gym, looking forward to a few hours of quiet where my mind will be focused on lifting weights instead of dragging me back to the luncheon a few hours ago.
Brie. I’ve known her since we were kids. I haven’t seen her in many years, however. Of course, the family gathers once a year in Maatua for the Solstice, but I never went with Ryan, Aviva, and the girls. I kept everyone at arm’s length, refusing to let myself get close. I loved them–still do. Ryan and Aviva are the closest thing I have to parents… and the thought of losing them like I lost my own flesh and blood family has made it impossible to give in.
Aviva inadvertently helped me find my purpose in life. Become a warrior. Learn to fight. Learn the history of this land. Make connections, climb the ranks.
Get a fucking boat and go home to take back what was stolen from my father.
I focus on that through deadlifts and squats, through bicep curls and intervals around the track. But when I sink to the floor two hours later, sweaty and exhausted, I catch my reflection in a mirror nearby and find my mind rushing back to the luncheon–and her.
Brie is not a little girl anymore. My memories of her from childhood are fractured and hazy. The full-bodied goddess in that satin dress that fit her so perfectly it could have been painted on was a stranger. Her thick, light brown hair and round, dark eyes drew me in, turning me inside out.
And when she looked at me, I felt it. That unearthly pull. That yanking of the threads binding us against my will.
The burying of roots to this kingdom, this continent, that I didn’t need, nor want, to have.
She looked just as horrified as I felt.
I hang my head, panting as I try to catch my breath.
A few warriors come in and out of the gym. Life moves on around me as the sunset bleeds into full night. I eventually drag myself back to my room to shower. I ready a razor to shave my face but look at my reflection, deciding against it for some reason.
I’m sitting in the cafeteria finishing a late dinner when the main door to the room flies open, and everyone sitting nearby stands abruptly, all conversations coming to a screeching halt.
Evander walks in, alone, wearing a casual button up shirt and slacks. It’s strange seeing our leader like this. Normally, he’s dressed in all black with a sour, stern look on his face. Everyone stands at attention until he motions for them to sit, to relax, but no one is ever relaxed in his presence.
He walks in my direction. I sit, eyeing him wearily as he takes the seat across from mine and folds his hands on the table.
“Commander,” I say, and I’m almost relieved he’s here. Something must have happened. He must be sending me and my men out into the field again, thank the Goddess. I need the distraction. I need to put miles upon miles of distance between myself and Brie, his daughter.
The thought that he’s here about the mate bond strikes me. I curl my hands into fists under the table, preparing for the worst.
“I understand you’re on much needed leave,” he says. “But I need your help with something. It’s minor, but it will eat up the next two weeks of your time off.”
“What is it?” I ask, relieved he didn’t just ask if I’d given any thought to the upcoming wedding.
“My eldest daughter, Brie, is going to Maatua for a month. She can’t handle the jump. It makes her violently ill and that would completely defeat the purpose of her vacation. So, she needs an escort, a guard, and I’d like you to be the one to take her there.”
Fuck.
“Can I speak freely, sir?” I begin.
He searches my face, then nods.
“That's not a job for a captain.”
“You’re saying it’s above your pay grade?” he jokes, which I’m not used to.
“I have two weeks to ready my men for whatever field placement we have next.”
“That can be taken care of otherwise, but right now, you’re the only one I trust to get my daughter to Maatua safely, without incident.”
“How?”
“Boat. A yacht, actually. She’ll be the only guest, but it’s manned by a crew of roughly twelve.” He sighs, but his shoulders remain rigid. “As you know, this… rogue theft ring nonsense is all over Eastonia. We’re no closer to finding the ringleader, and there have been a few incidents of wealthy young women being taken hostage for payment. I’m not dumb enough to think no one would try to do that to someone from our family.”
Our family. He meant it, too. I’m part of this family, a fringe member, aren’t I?
“You’ll be paid handsomely, of course, on top of your salary as captain. And, you’ll have another chance for leave when you return.”
“You know I don’t care about the leave aspect.”
“Well, Aviva and Ryan do.”
I drag my hands down my thighs. “When would she be leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning, before dawn. She’ll need to be driven down to the river port. It’s a day’s travel up river to the oceanic port in Avalone where the yacht is waiting. It should be ready to disembark immediately once the two of you arrive.”
I have no choice but to nod and accept the mission. But… “Is there any other reason you’re asking me, personally, to do this?”
Evander purses his lips, thinking about it for a moment before replying, “Yes, actually. I could easily put a lower ranking warrior on this and not bat an eyelash, but Brie is… she’s a little different. She needs a firmer hand.”
A firmer hand to… what?
I don’t ask aloud, but the comment sticks in my brain like glue for the rest of the night. I find myself staring out the window at the valley below, my gaze occasionally creeping toward the castle that hangs from the opposite mountainside, shimmering in the light of a full moon.
Spending a week at sea in a confined space with my mate was not in the cards.
This can’t go on. I have to end it. For her sake–and mine.
I can’t be tied down. Not now that I’m as close as ever to returning to Emberfyll to take back what was stolen from my father.
My title as Alpha King. My lands. My people.
But I can’t force her away from hers.