King Of The Wolves, page 7
Making an example of Kane was becoming about so much more than vengeance and protection. My people needed to see I would protect them and keep them safe. They needed to see why I was king. The only way to prove that would be through blood.
I needed to fight Kane where the pack could witness it, and I had to win.
That was why I couldn’t be thinking and worrying about my mate, about Scarlet. That man had threatened her and while I knew she could take care of herself, it was difficult not to backtrack and tear out the shopkeeper’s bowels.
I wondered if any wolves before me had ever been so inconvenienced, so torn over their mating bonds. As none had been to a human, I very much doubted it.
And if I couldn’t get my wolf to establish better priorities, none of it would matter.
We’d all be doomed anyway.
7
SCARLET
Life stopped being easy the moment my mother died. The grass and flowers hadn’t yet grown over the fresh tilled earth of her grave when my father gave in to drink. Strup had loved my mom with such deep devotion that no one was surprised when the depression overtook him.
For an entire year, I tried to help around the house best as I could, slowly selling off or trading my mother’s things as my father worked less and less and drank more and more. But when I was closing in on fourteen years of age, it was clear he wouldn’t pull himself out of the slump.
When efforts to sober him up failed, I forced him to teach me to smith.
I excelled at it in two short years, most of my work surpassing my father’s.
The short sword glowed on the anvil. My grip was strong and sure on the tongs as I raised my other arm up and began to hammer out the imperfections that had survived the cast. The hammer was heavy and the forge was hot, yet working on a blade like this required a delicate touch.
Each blow sent shockwaves up my arm. I was used to it.
The people in the village knew I aided my father in his work. But if they—or anyone in the kingdom, for that matter—knew a woman was responsible for some of the finest blades around, I doubt they’d be as enthusiastic about their weapons.
Sparks flew as I worked, the salt from my sweat heavy on my tastebuds as I licked my lips. Usually working helped me get out of my head.
Today, though, I could only think of my father. The man was loving and tenderhearted. I knew, deep down, that he didn’t drink to hurt me. He wasn’t trying to spite me by racking up debt after debt. His grief was so immense that his need for escape had become an addiction.
Knowing that didn’t make the lean times easier.
This was the second sword to come from the ore I’d managed to scrap together. The pair would be the finest I’d made. They had to be, because I needed something, for once, to go right. With them and Fiona’s rejected pair, I’d have something tangible to offer the hunters.
The debts were simply too large. On top of that, I couldn’t stop worrying about Cassius. When we were younger, we’d joked about marrying each other. But my heart wasn’t in it and as of late, Cassius had been hinting that he, too, might prefer men.
Knowing each other as we did, I never had to worry about things becoming weird. At least, not romantically.
But something had sure as hell become weird when he’d had that fit, then disappeared from my home.
The orange glow of the metal dulled, and I held it up, feeling the weight of it. The sword felt good in my hand. No reason to keep hammering it. It was time for the final stages, the sharpening and finesse.
Steam erupted and water sizzled as I thrust it into the cooling bucket.
Two swords. It would barely put a dent in our debt. Unless…
It made me sick to consider it. But I was more sickened at the idea of a winter with no food and no way to keep our home. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I made a decision.
Our house was small but tidy. I slept on a pallet near the fireplace while my father took the bed in our one other room. He was sleeping at the moment, his snores echoing through the tiny space. As much as it irritated me that he was napping through our imminent demise, it was to my benefit.
What I was about to do would crush him.
In a small box I kept hidden in a rafter were the remains of my mother’s jewelry. Other than the cloak I refused to part with, I’d managed to keep a few of her trinkets tucked away from Strup. He’d have only regretted drinking them away.
But he knew I had them. And in a way, it offered him comfort to know I had something of hers.
Tears welled in my eyes as I opened the box. There hadn’t been much to begin with. Mother’s father had been a merchant and well-off. He’d consented to her marriage to my father because of my father’s artistry. It had been well known, even then, that Strup’s metalworking was top tier.
Still, she had kept several pieces, including a brooch which contained two yellow diamonds. I looked at the brooch now, and my breath caught in my throat. The yellow glinted and shone and reminded me of the wolf’s eyes.
The wolf was a figment of my imagination.
It had to be. No one else had said anything about seeing or hearing wolves in Kelna. For a moment, I wondered what my mother would have said about my vision.
I was glad I couldn’t hear her opinion on melting down the brooch and using the diamonds in my twin swords.
An idea was forming in my mind, the shapes and ways I’d decorate the pommels of the twin swords. The diamonds would be perfect. They were small and would be unimpressive to any wealthy patron…
But for a hunter?
It might just be the trick.
With the brooch melted down, all that remained of my mother’s things were my cloak, two gold bracelets, and a ruby hair pin.
Screw it, I thought as the lump in my throat grew large enough to make swallowing difficult. I took the bangles and the hair pin as well. We were too far gone for sentimentality. Too far gone for me not to use everything at my disposal to save us.
If I managed to pull us out of debt, if I could keep food on our table and figure out what was wrong with Cassius, then things would have to change. For starters, we’d give Cassius a home. I’d marry him if that’s what the villagers needed to see. It would all be for show, anyway.
But Cass would have a roof over his head and we could train him to run a shop. His charm and dimples would make him an excellent merchant. He just needed someone to lift him out of the hole that was his life.
I clenched the jewelry hard enough for the pin of the brooch to prick my palm. When I opened my hand, blood welled up from the wound.
My father would have to learn to live without drink. I couldn’t stand it anymore. This was my last effort for both of us.
My blood dripped on the floor.
A blood oath, then.
It was such a long shot. But having a goal revitalized me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.
As I walked toward the forge, preparing myself for what had to be done, I caught sight of Kane’s letter again, calling in the debt. I wondered again why a hunter would buy up a smith’s debt.
But I had no time to fret about it. Outside, I set to prying the gemstones from the brooch and hair pin. Once they were removed, I set about melting down the gold. It was too soft a metal to be anything but decorative, but it would make a fine addition to the hilt.
The swords were both cool enough now to begin making them shine.
This was one of those times I wished Cassius was around. When we were children, we played at being soldiers with sticks. When I apprenticed with my father, I discovered the best way to learn how to make the best weapons was to learn how to wield them.
Cassius and I’d spent hours practicing. Now, I took my two short swords and began to weave them around my body, testing for speed and balance. The blades became extensions of my arms.
If only I could slice my way straight through my problems.
They were perfect. Too perfect, really, feeling at home in my palms. But I couldn’t afford even a modicum of selfishness.
The next few hours were spent at the grindstone, with oil cloth and whetstone, sharpening and polishing until the blades gleamed. I wrapped the pommels in leather, making sure to tighten and layer the strips so there was something for a hand to grip but not rub blisters into palms.
All that remained was pouring the gold for the hilt and setting the stones.
As I moved the molten gold to the cast, the hairs on my arms and neck stood on end. It felt as if I was being watched. I paused, listening closely, but I couldn’t hear anything—no shift of boots on rocks or sighs of breath. Slowly, so as not to lose even a drop of the precious metal, I poured it into the cast.
All the while, I mentally tallied the movements it would take to get to the pair of swords. Just in case. Because people who stared without announcing themselves were low on my “who to trust” list.
When the last of the gold had been emptied, I held my breath and looked around, preparing for whoever or whatever was out there.
There was no one.
My heart hammered as I stepped forward, peering into the darkness that was beginning to fall. Twilight kissed the earth, making every tree seem to blacken and grow teeth. It turned shrubs into traps with monsters lurking within.
I scanned the yard until I was almost certain it was in my head, but then twin yellow diamonds flashed in the darkness.
No, not diamonds. Eyes.
It was as if a bolt of lightning struck through my chest as I locked onto the eyes. Was it fear that ricocheted through me, lighting up every nerve?
Behind the eyes, something moved in a blur. It was gone in a heartbeat, but in my mind I pictured a man. Tall and well-muscled, with sharp cheekbones and a determined brow. Brown hair that shagged over eyes which shifted from yellow to a dark, warm brown.
I was picturing a handsome man staring at me from the trees near my house.
That’s it, I’ve officially worked too long in the heat today. Heat and dehydration were causing me to hallucinate, just like I had hallucinated the wolf when I’d been stressed.
If only the visions didn’t feel so real.
Perhaps I’d also hallucinated Cassius’s eyes. No human had eyes like that, so cloaked in gray it was like the soul had been shrouded within. I had been upset about the letter and my family’s potential ruin, Cassius had a fit, and in my panic I saw something that wasn’t there.
Truly, just what I needed. To lose my mind on top of everything.
I needed tea.
When I entered the house, I heard nothing. No snores. When I peeked in my father’s room, I found it empty. I shouldn’t have been surprised, since being disappointed in my father was just a part of life, but I’d had a small amount of hope.
Shaking off my disappointment, I decided I needed a fresh pot of tea after the hallucinations that had left me shaky and unnerved. The weak brew from overused leaves would not calm me. I pulled out the tin and went about heating water. It seemed I was throwing everything to the wind—using the last of our leaves, melting down my mother’s jewels…
“Ah, well, good timing.”
I jumped at the voice. There’d been no hint that anyone was there. I almost scalded myself, yanking the pot with me, ready to throw it at the intruder.
A tall, well-built man loomed in our doorway. The door hadn’t so much as creaked when he’d opened it. Edgy, I glared at him. “Who are you and why are you in my house?” Briefly I thought of my vision of a man, but the person invading our home looked nothing like the man in my head.
Thick eyebrows hovered like a roof over sharp, mean eyes. Everything about the man was sharp, really, from the cut of his nose to his strong, lean shoulders. He reminded me of a falcon watching for its next meal.
Hopefully, he didn’t mistake me for some poor rabbit.
“I’m here to talk to Strup.” He took another step inside, confident and seemingly oblivious to how rude he was being. “Now, though, I’m also interested in having tea with his lovely…daughter?”
I didn’t stop glaring at him as I put the pot back over the fire. “I am his daughter but he’s not home. You’ll have to come back another time.”
Instead of listening, the man took a few more steps. That’s when I saw this hilt of his greatsword sticking out between his shoulder blades. It was hefty and the pommel and guard well-worn. It wasn’t a sword worn simply for show. No, it had seen a lot of use.
The man was dressed in simple leathers—pants and a vest that I imagined would protect him from thorns and branches and worn in enough that he wouldn’t make much of a sound.
So, this was a man who used his weapon and was dressed for stealth, being that he wasn’t wearing a soldier’s armor or the king’s crest. A hunter. Cold prickled along my arms, and I vaguely remembered seeing this man on the platform that had been erected in front of the castle.
Cassius had mentioned that Kane was coming to town, as had the messenger, and the letter in my father’s coat pocket and…I held my breath for a moment as I understood who was standing in my home.
Knowing his name didn’t put me at ease.
I had to play nice, but my body was on high alert. The king’s favored hunter was high in prestige and the person I most hoped to sell to. However, he’d also crept up on me and let himself into my house. His oily stare was trained on me.
“How do you take your tea?” I asked, though my tone was thorny.
“I like it sweet,” he replied, eyeing me in a way that made me wish I could dump the tea over his head.
We didn’t have luxuries like honey or sugar, regardless. I poured it straight into a mug, not bothering to strain it. His brows lifted but he accepted the cup. Without my offering, Kane took a seat at our table, kicking his feet out to the side, ankles crossed. Bits of dried mud crumbled off the soles of his boots, muddying our floor.
I grabbed the letter. “This is from you?”
Kane smirked, looking so very pleased with himself. “Indeed. I’m afraid I need those funds now. You see, King Vyn is having a competition—”
“You’re going to kill the wolf king?” Sarcasm managed to sneak its way into my words and I got an embarrassing thrill when Kane frowned. He was undoubtedly not used to being scrutinized. I should have known better, though. Poking a bear didn’t make it go away. It just made it angry and dangerous.
He sat up straight and rested an elbow on the table. “I am. I have a team of trained hunters here in Kelna. We’re stocking up on rations and weapons. Your father is known through much of Mogon for his smithing. Seeing as he owes me a thousand marks, I came to collect. He can pay in gold or in weapons.”
Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades. There was a fetid quality to Kane, like a human gone bad and hoping to spoil anyone who came near. Of course, that might have just been me wanting to hate someone to whom we owed so much.
“And if we didn’t have either?”
Something in Kane’s features shifted. His smirk remained but it had an edge of menace. “We’d have to come to a new understanding, I suppose. Something within reason.” His gaze moved from my head to my toes and back up again, a slow perusal that had my stomach heaving and my fists clenching. “Bring me the letter. I’ve forgotten all I wrote on it.”
Nerves like frayed cloth, I stepped over to him with caution. My hand trembled as I held the letter out to him, leaning so I could keep as much distance between the hunter and myself. Quick as the hawk he so resembled, Kane grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. The speed and strength of his pull had me off balance and I tumbled into his lap with a screech.
8
ALDEN
Fenrick’s arms were locked around my middle, his feet digging into the ground as he tried to keep me from barreling into Scarlet’s house.
Through the kitchen window, I’d watched as Kane let himself into her home, made her uneasy, and then grabbed her. His hands were on my mate.
I was going to rip his throat out.
“Stop!” Fen said, voice straining. “You can’t go in there!”
I’ll kill him for touching her! I shouted through our pack bond. No one touches my mate!
Instinct was taking over and I wanted to snap at Fenrick. He was my second—who was he to stop me?
My body froze. I couldn’t move, despite trying my damnedest. I struggled against the bonds until I saw Moira stepping out beside us.
Fenrick must have summoned her to help.
“How dare you?” I seethed. “Release me at once.”
“You made me swear to help you protect the pack. I’m doing that now,” she said, her voice calm. If I truly exerted my will, she’d have to release the magic. It felt like a test: Would I alter our agreement? Would I make her feel like a slave instead of one of my most trusted advisors?
That realization that my second and my witch, the two closest to me now that my parents were dead, were both trying to reel me in managed to cool the rage enough to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” I said gruffly.
“Look,” Moira said, pointing through the window.
It seemed Scarlet didn’t need a raging wolf to eat the man who’d so boldly grabbed at her. Kane’s cheek was stark red where she’d slapped him. Blood smeared the side of her mouth. and he cradled his arm where, if my sharp eyes could be trusted, she’d bitten him.
She’d gained some distance and had a cast-iron frying pan in her grip, holding it like it weighed nothing. My mate was strong and capable. Scarlet was dropped into a fighting stance. Seeing it had pride welling up in my chest.
Kane chuckled, but his eyes were dark pools of violence. I growled, low, until Fenrick’s hand gripped my shoulder. He was there, at my side, helping me keep my head.
“If you kill Kane now, it would solve a small problem but open up a larger one,” he muttered. “You know the pack isn’t at full strength. If you kill him here, the king won’t just send hunters with their parties into Larkinge. He’ll arm every man in Mogon and send them in.”
“Or find a way to burn us out,” Moira added.
