Lexa
Teshka isn’t known for its pristine beaches.
The water here is gray and turbulent, the waves crashing against the shore to the songs of seagulls and the roar of the water lapping up the cliff faces. I watch the sunset over the horizon–watch it slip beneath the gray water, turning the sky a vibrant crimson that fades into streaks of violet, and as I look into the stars that slowly come into full view, I send another colorful curse down the empty mind-link to my idiot cousin Blake, who is the reason I’m stuck on the Goddess forsaken beach.
It took four days to travel here in our wolf forms. We stopped to camp every night, not a single fire lit, eating no more than a few oatcakes and washing them down with whatever water we could get our hands on. My girls made haste because that was my command. I’m not here to fuck around–not with so much at stake.
But the shoreline in Teshka, which spans nearly twenty miles before becoming so steep it’s completely impassable, is just impossible. Boats can’t land here. Not unless they want to be shredded to fine bits before being dragged back out to the violent water beyond. Still, I’ve been sitting on this beach for days now, watching the surf, watching whatever idiot in Ghost armor try to catch a fish or go for a dip against the heat of the day. We’ve already had to rescue three of them, wasting valuable energy.
I’ve watched my girls get their feet and paws stitched back together after slipping over the sharp, unstable shale that marks the tide line. I’ve chased tarps and supplies across the barren beaches every night when the wind soars, sending rocks, ocean spray, and thick, coarse sand in its wake.
It’s miserable here. Absolutely, utterly miserable.
Which is why I’ve been wondering why Blake was so adamant that something would happen here, and Maeve agreed.
Commander Michael of Queen Maeve’s Royal Army–the Royal Guard of Moonrise–walks beside me down the beach, silent, our footsteps crunching through the shale. I peer at the stars blinking into startling focus, frowning as dark clouds roll in with the promise of a storm.
“There’s no new intelligence to report from Tarisan,” he says under his breath, his pale blue eyes glowing in the darkness. He’s roughly an inch shorter than me and as old as my grandfather, I believe, but his reputation precedes him. The man fought in every war since the year my great-aunt Ella breached the veil into Eastonia. He stood on the battlefield in Tarsian over two decades ago, and before that, during the battle for Twin Rivers when King Kane finally fell. He’s witnessed it all, which is why seeing him nervous has me especially unsettled.
“It’s too quiet,” I reply, and he nods his agreement.
“Are you warriors going to continue camping directly on the beach?”
“Yes. This is where we were commanded to be. I’m not going to move them off the tide line inland. That defeats the purpose of our mission.”
Commander Michael hums a soft note of what I think might be praise, but it’s quickly lost to the rumbling of stones being sucked back into the water as the tide rolls out.
“My forces will remain inland, then, guarding Teshka’s main village and their nearby settlements.” We turn back in the direction we came, but he pauses, looking down the miles of visible beach at small warming fires cast a hazy glow over the pockets of sand where a few campsites have been stationed. “Commander Evander is in Teshka currently. I spoke to him only two hours ago.”
I take a shallow breath to stop myself from asking after my mom, who’s there as well, meeting with the other commanders, making plans–war plans, in the event of an invasion.
As a captain, I was not invited. As a captain, I remain with my regiment–my warriors.
“A small regiment of Ghosts is being deployed to this beach to relieve some of your warriors for a few days. Twelve total can return to Teshka. The Ghosts will take their places.”
I roll my shoulders in an attempt to stamp down the sudden feeling of defensiveness roiling through my system. “Is there a reason why? Who made the command?”
“It was a joint decision between your mother–Commander Aviva,” he quickly corrects, clearing his throat, “and Commander Evander. They both want their forces at their best–rested and well fed. The conditions here are harsh.”
“I’ve already had to send five of my warriors to Teshka for healing. I can only spare another seven before our numbers fall flat.”
“Send twelve back to Teshka, and you’ll have twelve Ghosts at your disposal–”
“Under my command?” I turn to face him, meeting his gaze. He’s a steely old man. He’s seen, done, and heard enough to read between the lines I just laid out. He knows what I’m asking. He knows who I am and what I’m capable of. He knows not to fuck with me, and so do his captains and their warriors.
Still, he purses his lips, tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, and replies, “The Ghosts aren’t under my command, Captain Lexa. This was not my idea. I am simply the messenger.”
“Why?”
“Why me and not a lower-ranking soldier? Because they’re all terrified of you. No one volunteered to pass the message along, so I offered to go. I needed the fresh air.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” My voice is like iron.
He steps closer, glancing down at his sandy boots. It’s full dark now, and with the clouds hanging heavy overhead, I can barely make out the lines of fatigue and concern etched across the planes of his face when he says, “Queen Maeve has sensed something in her shields, as has King Ryatt. Eastonia is now at the highest level of alert. Everything has shut down–the railways, the road systems. Crescent Falls has closed their borders and deployed warriors in the event that if war erupts on our soil, it doesn’t spill onto theirs. This is a very recent development.”
My chest tightens. “And so we wait on the beach like sitting ducks for something to happen?”
“Yes.”
“And you were sent to tell me to share this space with Ghosts?”
“They were sent to aid—”
“They will slow us down if it comes to defending the shore.”
“You’ll have to take that up with Commander Evander. It was his decision, but it was your mother’s call to make when it came to relieving some of your regiment for a moment of rest.”
I look back toward the water as another figure walks slowly into view, shrouded in shadow. I already know the cadence of his steps. His darkened outline is familiar.
“I’ll make sure the Ghosts are comfortable during their stay,” I reply sarcastically, and Commander Michael hears it as a dismissal.
Austin hangs back until the commander walks out of sight, his body sliding into the dim glow of the warming fires twinkling along the rocky shore.
I turn from him, picking my way over the larger rocks, walking toward the bluff overlooking the beach. Austin follows in silence for several minutes while I send a silent command through the mind-link, telling twelve of my girls to pack and go to Teshka and await my command once there. I hate it, having to pick and choose.
“This wasn’t my decision, Lexa.”
“Of course not,” I reply hoarsely. “You weren’t champing at the bit to be here or anything.”
“Don’t get mad at me for heeding orders–”
“I’m not–”
“What happened?”
I whirl to face him, looking down at him as he pauses on the last boulder leading to the top of the bluff. His eyes are full of stormy darkness, glowing ever so slightly, like they’re full of the neon lights of Old Moonrise instead of his wolf powers. He shakes his head at me, chuckling darkly.
“What do you mean, what happened? I’m stuck sharing a beach with you and your worthless, poorly trained warriors while my own warriors are being sent back to Teshka–”
“Between us!” Austin throws his hands in the air, looking me right in the eyes.
I gape at him. I’m not sure what else to do. “What–what do you mean?”
Another low chuckle laced with frustration, maybe even disbelief, follows him as he climbs onto the bluff. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Austin–”
“Did Moonrise mean nothing to you?”
My stomach twists, and a heavy sensation barrels through my chest, weighing me down. Austin closes in on me but stops only a foot away, running his fingers through his hair. He bites his lip, giving me a look intense enough to bring me to my knees if I had a lick of sense when it came to anything other than fighting.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I thought–the night before you left with your regiment–when we went to that bar, then the hotel–”
I look down at my sandals, a sharp contrast to his boots, his full Ghost garb shimmering in the darkness.
“Lexa, I like you.”
“Oh–”
“I didn’t want you to leave. I thought I made that clear.”
“We didn’t…. There was never a conversation–”
“Was it not good for you?”
I blink, my cheeks burning a fiery red as the memory of that night washes over me like a tsunami, rendering my senses absolutely useless. “I–it was my first time–”
“I want you, for fuck’s sake. You know that. You knew that when you went back to Moonrise–”
“This is a complicated situation, Austin, please–”
“Because you’re from the Deadlands? Because your father is the Alpha King?”
I meet his eyes as my heart squeezes–not from fear. Not because I don’t match his feelings because I do. At least, I think I do. I never made room for any of this–for love. For the thought of being with someone. Of having a life outside of Silverhide, possibly, a life with a husband and children.
It’s always felt secondary. It’s always felt out of reach.
But then, I met Austin, and his pretentious gaze and cocky smiles burrowed under my skin until I couldn’t ignore it. I wanted him in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. I craved him.
He craved me back, and we acted on it. In secret. Behind the closed door of a shitty, rundown motel in Old Moonrise. And then we parted ways, just like that, and I felt like a new notch in his belt.
I was okay with it. I could live with it. I could get over it… eventually.
But this?
I might be prepared for my homeland to be invaded, but this?
“Is it because of your bride price?” he asks, his eyes suddenly serious. “I’ll pay it.”
“Austin–”
“You’re my mate, Lexa,” he rushes out like it’s painful. “I’m almost sure of it.”
My entire world stops spinning on its axis.
“We’re mates. You might not feel it yet, but I can, and I have since the moment you walked into the training center and this–” he motions between us almost frantically. “This has been–the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Being around you. Watching you train–the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen–knowing you’re mine and having you for just one night then watching you leave again. When Queen Maeve announced she was sending Ghosts to the Deadlands, I volunteered my regiment immediately. I had to see you again.”
I resist the urge to reach for him, resist the months of longing, months of feeling like I was the only one who felt the way I feel, like there was no way this man–this warrior–this charming asshole who could get any girl he wanted–wants me.
I’m not a romantic. I never paid men any mind. But I was raised by a pair of mates–fated mates–parents who are desperately in love and were never afraid to show it.
I also grew up in the Deadlands. We have our customs, our beliefs. Finding my mate was never part of the equation for me. I know who I am and what my purpose is. At least, I did, until that fateful morning six months ago when I walked into the training center and saw him leaning against the wall, all blue eyes and muscles.
It had been an instant attraction, something I couldn’t shake as the weeks, then months, passed. We sparred in the ring as well as in quiet corridors. I was mean to him to hide my real feelings. He ate it up. He couldn’t get enough, and I fell hard.
We’re both captains. That role comes with crushing responsibilities that kept us apart. Plus, he’s from a pack in Crescent Falls–the son of a Beta. Our lives are thousands of miles apart.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he rasps, shaking his head.
“How could you possibly–”
“All of the things between us? Your family and rank? That I’m from Crescent Falls and you’re from here? None of that matters right now, Lexa.”
“Of course it matters!”
“Do you feel the same or not?” He holds out his hands in surrender. “Reject me, if you must. Anything to put me out of my misery. I will get down on my knees, Lexa, if it’s what you wish.”
I stand, stunned, looking at the man who everyone said was so unattainable. Handsome, strong, and smart–he was the ultimate catch at the training center.
Yet, he has eyes for me. Me, the woman who towers over most of the men in my village. Me, the freak of nature–stronger than any man I know but my dad. Me, who came into my wolf at sixteen like my father and my grandfather, but the rest of my wolf abilities–like feeling the mate bond–are taking their sweet time to show up.
“I’m not–if you think I’m the kind of woman who’ll be happy spending her day in the kitchen raising your pups–” I bite my tongue, sucking in a sharp breath.
Austin searches my eyes for several seconds. “That’s not what I want from you.”
“Then what do you want? Because I’m a warrior, Austin. This is my life. This is what I want for myself.” I extend my hand toward the beach. “I will be Alpha of Silverhide one day. I will be Alpha Queen of the Deadlands. Everything else is secondary.”
Austin’s long, hard stare settles in my bones. He’s disappointed. I can feel it.
“What do you want from me?” I damn near beg.
“I just want you–”
“And then? A pretty little wife warming your bed? Keeping your hearth fire burning?”
His jaw flexes as he grits his teeth.
“I cannot be that woman, and you know it.”
“Is this really what you want? Sleeping on the ground every night? Spending your entire existence fighting?” His tone is like steel. “Is there nothing else you want for yourself?”
“No,” I answer, and it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever said, and it’s… gut-wrenching. Anyone else would have fallen to their knees. Anyone else would have jumped at the opportunity being presented, at the prospect of matched feelings and… love.
Mates.
Fated… mates.
I draw my hand over my chest, physically searching for the bond I can’t feel yet.
Austin nods, sucking his teeth. “So, what? You feel nothing for me?”
“That’s not–that’s not how I feel–”
“Then tell me–”
“I don’t see how this could work. I need more time. Okay? Just–how–”
His eyes light with sudden hope.
I never stumble over my words. Never. I think before I speak. I weigh the consequences. I’ve always been so sure of myself. So confident. So certain.
Until now.
“I-I want you,” I admit, hot tears of pure frustration trying to spring along my lash line, but I refuse to let it happen. “But I don’t know how–”
A rush of sound barrels over the beach below us, a sharp interruption. A scream pierces the air before the fires flicker out, a stiff, unearthly breeze spreading embers across the beach like stars.
And then it’s quiet.
Too fucking quiet.