Book 16
Lexa
The packhouse in Silverhide is cast in dim, amber light that radiates from rustic candlelit chandeliers arranged in a row high above my head. Mom stands near the dormant fireplace talking in low tones to Aunt Mercy and Uncle Jacob. Even standing beside her, I can barely hear their murmured conversation over the crowd gathered along the long wooden tables that take up most of the space in the communal dining hall. Familiar faces huddle over the remains of a rather average dinner where more wine and mead was served than anything else. There’s an undercurrent of tension in the room that’s so palpable I can taste it–bitter, sour, something that sticks to the roof of my mouth and can’t be washed away by the wine. So do the others as they lower their heads, whispering, glancing at my mother, their Luna, for direction.
I scan the crowd and meet Chessie’s gaze. Her dark blonde hair falls around her heart-shaped face–curly and bright against her dark green eyes. She’s seated between her mother and older sisters, but her father, one of my dad’s close friends and best warriors, is outside with several of the older men standing in wait for their Alpha to return with news about Moonrise.
Most of my packmates don’t have cellphones or computers. We live in a utopia of solitude. It’s the Silverhide way.
But my stomach turns as Meg and Hara move toward Chessie to whisper in her ear. Rumors are swirling already. Some people even brought their belts full of weapons to supper.
Mom was vague about what happened, but I know it was bad, whatever it was, just based on the pale color in her cheeks. It also involved Blake, which honestly doesn’t surprise me, given that anytime there’s drama, it tends to lead directly to him, Maeve, or both. I don’t know the details. Mom could barely form words in the moments after a despondent Uncle Sydney whisked Nora to what I assume is safety.
But Luna Aviva, the five-foot-tall half-feral Queen of the Deadlands, stands straight-spined and unbothered beside me, regardless of the fact that everything might be falling apart.
I know the precarious situation the kingdom at large is in. Whispers of war have been swirling through Eastonia for months now. For several weeks this winter, travel between territories was limited, and several battalions of royal warriors were sent into Tarsian and the furthest reaches of the Roguelands looking for anything related to the Spider and his underground crime network. News trickled into the Deadlands, of course, but I’d been away from the rumors while I spent over six months training the Ghosts and Maeve’s royal army in Moonrise.
I’d seen Blake, however, just moments after his falling out with Maeve. The look on his face… gods, it’s impossible to describe how broken he was.
Meg discreetly motions for me to join them, but I shake my head. I give her a short nod, tilting my head toward the door leading out of the pack house in a silent promise that I’ll speak to them privately once the pack at large has been briefed. Meg, with her thick, dark red hair and shimmering brown eyes–the beauty of Silverhide according to most–looks slightly annoyed as she turns back to Hara, whispering quietly enough I can’t make out the words.
I straighten, smoothing the fabric of a simple, woven, baby blue sundress over my stomach, and turn to my mom instead of watching the increasingly anxious crowd.
She glances at me and my untouched dinner. “Eat something, Lex, please.”
“Everyone’s looking at us. You have to say something.”
“I–” She swallows, gripping the back of her chair. We’ve been standing for what feels like an hour, locked in murmured conversation with my parents’ closest friends and family–My Aunt Mercy and my mom’s best friend, Freya, mostly. Their mates have been moving in and out of the pack house–bundles of nerves. Ticking time bombs, to be honest.
No one feels easy when the Alpha is gone.
When my dad is gone.
“Mom,” I urge, looking down into her amber eyes. “Come on, what happened?”
“I know vague details. It was a mess–”
“What was?!”
The doors to the pack house boom as they fly open. A few hushed exclamations of surprise ring out but are drowned by the thunderous footfalls of the nearly seven-foot tall man stalking through the crowd, which barely has time to part. A weight lifts off my shoulders as Dad walks into view with steps so determined the entire crowd hushes. He’s dressed as he was this morning when our day started out early but normal. A slightly sweat-stained T-shirt and the jeans he wears everyday out in the fields, like he didn’t have a single second to change before Uncle Sydney took him away–which is exactly what happened. His dark hair is only starting to pepper with gray around the temples, and he’s clean shaven, which Mom prefers, like he took her into consideration this morning above all else.
The tired, almost desperate look in his eyes fades the second Mom meets his gaze. He ignores the rest of the pack as he rounds the table and presses a swift kiss to her forehead. It’s a great feat, given their height difference. Mom gives herself a moment to melt before turning back to hard, cold steel, and Dad moves to me with a quick but tender squeeze of my upper arm–something that started as a little joke when I began to join him at the gym in the village.
He turns to the pack. All eyes hold on him as he clears his throat and… announces war has come to the Deadlands.
***
“What do you mean there wasn’t an attack? I don’t understand?” Chessie sinks onto my mattress while I hastily pack my duffle bag. I fold a few looped shirts and skirts meant for shifting over my arm before stuffing them lazily in with the rest of my gear and random belongings.
“I know as much as you do.”
“Oh, don’t give me that! They’re your cousins!”
“I know as much as what was said during supper. Mom is leading a battalion to Teshka to stand guard on the coast, which includes my regiment–as in you. Are you packed already? Is that why you’re here bugging me?”
Chessie rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “I haven’t unpacked from our time in Moonrise in hopes of running away from my mom’s incessant marriage talk.”
“Well, consider this your lucky break. We’ll be gone for at least six weeks.”
“The whole rest of the summer?” She gapes, rising as I move back to my untidy little closet. Compared to the regal townhouse and gilded palace of Moonrise, the wooden walls and matching floors greet me in a rustically warm embrace. Compared to… well, all of my cousins, I grew up about as simply as it can get. The most important aspects of my life, other than warrior training, of course, are the spring planting and the harvest.
Which, if the Goddess sees fit, we will be back for… hopefully.
“Lexa, you have to give me some insight here–”
“The truth of it will trickle through the grapevine, and by morning, everyone will know–”
“By then, we’ll be passing through Endova. Please? What happened?”
I brace a hand on the doorframe, hanging my head for a moment to gather my thoughts. “Can you keep this between us? Completely?”
Chessie gasps excitedly, “Am I about to get insider knowledge from the royal family?”
I playfully glare, but my smirk falls flat. “Yes, and I don’t want Meg and Hara spreading it around. You know they will.”
“Hara’s a safe bet when it comes to secrets, but you’re right about Meg,” she says with a frown. “So? What’s the deal then? What really happened in Moonrise?”
“We’re not entirely sure if it was an attack or something else….” I scramble with the private debriefing I received from my dad only an hour ago. “My cousin Blake–Prince Blake of Crescent Falls, is… missing.”
She cocks her head to the side. “What?”
How the hell do I even begin?
“He’s a mystic, and my family believes he purposely–or maybe even accidentally–used his powers to essentially blow up the royal temple in Moonrise, and now he’s gone, somewhere else, somewhere they think the Spider has gone to, as well, so we are now on watch.”
Chessie takes several seconds to try to absorb this information, but I can tell it’s going right over her head. She is and always has been my best friend. I love her as deeply as I assume someone would love their mate. We’re not sisters by blood but of the soul, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. But she’s a bit spacey.
“Well, that sounds awfully complicated.”
Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. “All that’s happening now,” I begin, leveling her with a look, “is leaving for Teshka to spend our summer getting tan on their shores.”
“And?”
“And… I suppose being ready to be on the front lines if anyone tries to invade us.”
“Your dad didn’t seem happy at all about sending Luna Aviva and battalion to Teshka.”
I smile to myself. My mother is the commander of an army of women. I’ve been training with them, have trained them, and will now stand beside them to defend the Deadlands if it comes to that. I’m the captain of my own little unit. There’s three dozen young women under my direct command, and they were chosen by me specifically. They're the best of the best.
I took six of them to Moonrise with me to help train the Ghosts. By the end of that winter, those men wouldn’t even look us in the eyes.
Whoever invades will be steering their boats into a hell of my own design without realizing it before it’s too late.
I hope.
Uncertainty makes my stomach quiver, but Mom calls out my name from the living room.
“Are you spending the night?” I ask Chessie.
“My bag is already here, in the kitchen.”
“Of course it is.” I laugh before slipping out of the room.
But my smile fades instantly when I see a man standing next to my parents–a familiar one. Lips I’m… acutely familiar with.
Austin is fitted with Ghost armor–a vision in black. His tawny blond hair is gelled back, a far cry from the last time I saw him, so causal in a T-shirt, jeans, and a ball cap he had to move out of the way before he pressed his mouth to mine, and now he’s standing between my parents, in my house. To say I’m shocked would be an understatement.
“Captain Austin and his warriors will be traveling with your regiment to Teshka,” Dad says.
“Are your warriors prepared to leave in the morning?” Mom asks us both.
I can’t form words. My gaze is glued to Austin’s face. He nods, says nothing, but his eyes hold mine for several seconds longer than necessary. Long enough to make my chest feel tight and my mind swim with memories of our encounters in Moonrise, after dark, when we’d snuck out to meet up and…
“Yes,” I murmur, trying to hide the blush creeping into existence across my cheeks.
Mom turns with Austin to the door leading out to the deck, but Dad stays behind. I can feel him boring holes in my profile but refuse to look in his direction until the door clicks shut behind Mom, then I ask with great effort, “Is Nora settled?”
“She’s fine. A little upset, but Ella is going to keep her busy.”
“And how’s everyone else?” I rush out, unable to stop myself. I need the distraction from Austin. “Blake’s mate and their daughter?”
Dad runs his fingers through his hair before stepping around the worktable and grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet. “You can imagine how things are in Moonrise right now. Your uncle is in… Syd is livid with Blake, but Sarah understands, or something. Marianna and Skye are going to be fine, regardless. We’ll take care of them. All of us. Last I heard, Sarah is going to convince them to bunker down in Crescent Falls for a while.”
I find it momentarily hard to swallow. Dad pulls down two glasses, pours two drams, and slides one in my direction. I like whiskey. I always have–even when I was too young to have it.
Silverhide might be known for its farming, but our ragers are also legendary, according to the people my age.
“Are you ready for this, Lexa?”
“Is it necessary to travel with the Ghosts? Are they our guards or something?”
He smirks, clicking our glasses together. “You’re their guards, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” I murmur, throwing back my drink, letting the burn wash away any lingering uncertainty.