Emory noticed the sun rising when she looked up, realizing they had run nearly five miles. It was remarkable that only her aunt was able to hold off so many Lycans. The hard part now was getting aunt Kinshra back: she’d been right when she told her she not to leave Broiia.
Once they reached Kedar’s crossing, the wolves slowed to a halt, circled around her, and then sprinted back in the direction they had come. While she watched them descend the slope, Emory took a moment to catch her breath: hands on her hips.
From here, she could find her own way back to Broiia, but now she had to decide whether to go back for her aunt or return to Broiia. It would be easier for her if she could shift and not have to worry about that fucking Hendrick mind controlling her.
Her aunt would be furious at her for even thinking about going back, but she had to. The only choices she had were to either seek help from Trey at the Chavere compound or enlist the help of her Broiia friends.
It didn’t matter how she did it, she wasn’t leaving her aunt there.
Inhaling the crisp scent of sandalwood and orange, she stepped off the path and followed it along the fence along the border.
“You!” she blurted out when she saw him.
At the checkpoint, Rodyn stood alone behind the outhouse, hands folded over his chest, gazing into the distance. Seeing Rodyn shirtless almost made her drool, and she gulped as her eyes followed the glyphs that now covered his body: ones he did not have before. Then, after ogling at him briefly, she looked around, unsure of what he was doing out there.
Rodyn turned to look at her. “You’re late,” he said with a smirk. “Kinshra told me to wait for you here.”
“There’s no way in hell that you’re the one Aunt Kinshra arranged to go with me to Broiia.”
“I’m never going to measure up to your standards, am I?”
Rodyn walked up to her, making her feel both embarrassed and slighted. She shot him a dangerous glare, not particularly interested in rehashing the past with him.
There was something about his bare, tanned chest in her face that somehow made her forget how to breathe.
“How come you didn’t bother to tell Trey and me you were a hunter?”
The glyphs on his bare chest tempted her to look at them up close, but she suppressed her desire and kept her eyes on him.
“What does it matter?” she asked, moving away from him. “We have to go back for aunt Kinshra.”
“I’ve got to get you out of here!” A glare flashed across Rodyn’s face. “Things have gone to shit and I need to get you someplace the Lycans cannot find you.”
When he reached for her hand, she stepped back.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting you to Broiia. We shouldn’t linger here much longer.” He surveyed the area, while Emory watched his profile closely.
If the Lycans were seriously trying to capture her, she figured Broiia couldn’t keep her safe. Even so, she was ready to go back just as soon as her aunt was okay.
“Are you helping me get my aunt back or not?”
“I don’t know Emory. I can help you stay alive; that’s all I can do. There are too many Lycans circling around, and they’ve caught your scent. The only reason we haven’t been attacked is that they’ve got their hands full right now.”
Those words raised Emory’s eyebrows. “No sense having you around if you’re not gonna help me get her back.”
“If I do that, Emory, I’ll be taking you back into Lycan territory.” He wiped the side of her mouth with his finger, and Emory froze, watching his eyes focus so intently on the task of cleaning off the blood she hadn’t realised was on her face.
When his grey eyes met hers, she looked away. Then he slipped his hand off Emory but didn’t step back.
“I say we get out of here now with the head start we’ve got,” Rodyn whispered as he turned in the direction of Kedar.
Thinking about Kedar made her think of Trey, and she realized what trouble they might have if the Lycans attacked Kedar. It dawned on her that she couldn’t return to either Kedar or Broiia just to keep them safe.
“Your brother’s a few miles behind,” Rodyn said. “My duty is to get you out of here, safe.” After she frowned, he continued. “Why, in the name of Aworyn are you so stubborn?”
Rodyn took Emory’s hand, and Emory couldn’t help but glance down at it, remembering how whenever their skin touched it left an electric charge behind.
The warmth of his hand, as rough as it was, roused her stomach with butterflies. Rodyn made her nervous, and she couldn’t describe how she felt against his touch, his scent, and the way he looked at her.
“Do you… did you ever think of me?” Rodyn finally asked after a few heartbeats.
He tugged at her fingers tenderly as he waited for an answer. At first, she stayed silent as memories of his rejection invaded her mind and pricked at her heart.
Then she moved to pull away, but Rodyn held his grip, strong and comforting. With a stern squint, she warned him off and tugged her hand free.
When Emory felt a lingering presence, she took a step forward. It was Lycan and something about it was different in a way that was truly frightening. As soon as Rodyn stepped up to her side, she knew he sensed it too.
“It’s time to go. The Lycans are coming.” His eyes dimmed in a way that made her feel uneasy.
“You’re not telling me everything,” Emory said, trying to figure out if he actually knew something she didn’t. “This isn’t the first time a hunter rose. As a matter of fact, Aunt Kinshra is one.”
“You’re the only one who’s awakened this decade, and you almost slipped past the radar too,” Rodyn said with a shrug. “There might be something significant about it for the Lycans. Beyond that, Kinshra made me swear not to let them take you to King Hendrick’s tower.”
“I know my aunt is tough, but we both know no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
He said nothing, only stroking her cheek with a small smile. “You should go ahead. I will mask your scent and follow behind you.”
It made her scoff, and she shook her head as she rejected the idea. “You mean you’ll stay behind, mask my scent, and die?” she asked.
“There’s–”
“Don’t be silly! If you stay here, you would be handing one of the last two Alphas to the Lycans on a platter, and I won’t allow that!” Emory retorted. “That’d be a death sentence for Kedar and the wolves. We might as well just surrender now.”
Trespassing on Eleadoí would be the silly excuse the Lycans would attempt to use against her. Her aunt had implied that the pompous Lycan king had led her here, but that didn’t matter since they were all now entangled in this. The Lycans had a good reason to take her, not that they ever needed one. Wasn’t that the problem? They could have taken Kedar or Rolan anytime, so why now?
“Why did my aunt send you, out of all the warriors she could have sent?”
Impatient now, he said. “Is that really what matters right now?”
Staring into his now dark eyes, Emory tried to figure out what he meant. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”
“If I didn’t care that you’re… you, I’d throw you over my shoulder and be on my way.”
“I cannot leave if aunt Kinshra and Trey’s lives are in danger,” Emory said. At this point, she was becoming more and more irritated. “None of this would have happened if the two of you didn’t get together to plot a union between us.”
“As always, you blame me and put me in the most awkward position!”
In shock, Emory held her head as she stared at him with her eyes wide open.
“When did I ever do that?” she asked. “You complained about me wishing we were soulmates. You rejected me twice, Rodyn, and there was always something wrong with the way I saw things. You always blame me!”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” His eyebrows shot up in disbelief and he just shook his head.
“Why are you bringing this up now?” Emory huffed.
Her palms were sweating as she rubbed her eyes and then clamped them shut, but it wasn’t because of Rodyn that she felt so unnerved right now. She thought back to the last few months she had spent with him before she left Kedar, but nothing stood out.
Quietly he repeated those words stuck in her head:
“You never understood me.”
The words stung like a slap in the face. She had no idea what he meant by that and she had the feeling that it didn’t matter any more.
She could feel eyes on her, but couldn’t spot anyone more than a few curious seagulls perched on the roof of an abandoned shack down the road. Emory stood there for a moment, taking in her bleak surroundings and saw nothing that indicated anyone was watching her. Just a dark and mysterious feeling, which was oddly inviting at the same time.
Then she heard a throaty rumble: she felt it in her core in an ecstatic sensation that almost made her purr.
In stark contrast, Kinshra’s howl reverberated throughout the Mojave forest, loud with a message she knew all too well: run. Slogging forward, Rodyn grunted and his black glyphs moved like a chromatic painting in the sun.
“Emory, run!” he told her.
They heard their howls shortly before the Lycans broke through the trees, streaks of their brown fur covered in blood. The sight of it made her terribly afraid for Rodyn; though she did not want to admit it to herself.
The Lycans rounded the corner, mouths wide open, baring sharp pointy canines.
Rodyn looked at her and then shifted into his heavy black-furred wolf with long white fangs. He howled to give a summoning signal.
“Go,” Rodyn snarled.
Nodding, Emory turned towards Kedar and took off.
On the outskirts of Kedar, Emory reached the point where she decided not to return to Broiia.She took a detour off the road, running into the Averna woods that led to the neighbouring pack East of Kedar as a safer alternative. After running for a while, she felt disoriented, confused, and responsible for two simultaneous incidents, which caused her to stop for a moment to regain her headspace.Her gaze swept over the vegetation below as she stood on the edge of the woods alone. Loneliness wasn’t new to her, but it was getting harder and harder to bear as time went by. The thick woods were silent, with only a distant caw coming from the right side of her. Making her way down the path, she pushed her sweaty red hair from her face.The second she reached the middle of the valley; she grabbed a branch of what appeared to be a Wildlarch tree and climbed on. It was not her intention to draw these annoying Lycans to her small pack back in Broiia either. She woul
A Week Ago...“Emory, you slacker, hurry up!” Kira shouted from the terrace of Aunt Kinshra’s bungalow. “We’re going to be late for the ceremony!”That was definitely loud enough to not only draw her aunt’s ire but to wake Emory too. Not only was she inviting Kinshra’s wrath by yelling so loudly, but banging on the front door as well. Kira seemed to have a death wish tonight and she was about to get it. Her aunt didn’t tolerate any noise, and Kira had a lot of experience with that rule. It was the first thing she learned when she moved here years ago.With such heightened hearing abilities, Kinshra could hear a needle drop a mile away, which made her very sensitive to loud noises.With a hiss, Emory rolled out of bed and trudged downstairs.“Get your friend off my porch before I send her ass flying back to the goddess’ bosom.” Aunt Kinshra warned softly as Emory walked
Emory watched Rodyn’s eyes blaze with anger. “He can’t be yo–,” he hissed before stepping away from her like her very intimidating mate had told him to. “What is it?” she asked. Behind her, she felt her mate’s presence, and turned to find him face-to-face with her. His gaze softened when it met hers. It felt like her lungs had been ripped out of her chest and all she could think of was bringing her heartbeat back to normal. As her throat pricked with the sudden lack of air, she took a deep breath as they stared at each other. “Emory?” he asked, like he wanted to make sure. The sound of her name on his lips made her happy, and despite the urge to smile, she forced a pout. “I’ll tell you mine after you tell me yours,” Emory said in a low voice. He tapped his finger on his mouth without saying anything. Then he smirked at her and looked up around the hill just as the wolves and Lycans swarmed. She turned to look at Rodyn — one of
Stretching into the sky, and clawing at the blackness above, a single tower loomed over everything else in Eleadoí. Its black walls shone with a brilliance that could be seen from the farthest corners of the city. It was a reminder of the long reign of the Lycan dynasty and this tower was their pinnacle. “This is the castle of Eclin,” said the Lycan sitting beside her. “The Tower of the Lycan King.” The sheer magnitude and grandeur of the building was as she had anticipated. Constructed entirely of black stone, with spires and parapets that stretched as far as the eye could reach. The thought of entering the tower filled her with dread. Simply looking at it made her feel claustrophobic and uneasy, and the one thing on her mind was her brother, Rodyn and her aunt. She felt a crushing weight on her chest as she contemplated the implications of what this would mean for everyone: Lycans and Wolves With the last two alphas captured, it meant that the Lycan
“The last hunter,” Hendrick said, standing in front of her. She was taken aback by Hendrick’s presence, somewhat intimidated by it - much like she felt with her mate. Still, she faced him, determined to maintain her composure even with how uncomfortable and out of place she felt. Why was she meeting Hendrick instead of her mate? His presence was nothing like she’d ever experienced. The way he spoke and his mannerisms left her feeling very uneasy. “I’ve got a name, you know. I’m sick of being called wolf, hunter, or whatever. I have a name.” Hanging her hands on her waist, Emory held his deep blue gaze. “What is it?” he asked as he circled around her before returning to stand in front of her. “Emory,” she said. “Ah, yes.” He nodded, his eyes widening in recognition. “The last Chavére.” He added much to her surprise. “Colin and everyone else leave us,” he ordered. Emory watched Sabine and the group leave, then turned back
Emory took a step forward, her eyes locked onto Rahl. As she ascended the platform, an electric energy enveloped her, making the air crackle with an otherworldly power. Rahl extended a hand, signalling for Emory to join him. “Kane is a-” “You’re not about to spill that secret without my say-so, are you?” Kane’s growl echoed from below. “She needs to know,” Rahl insisted, his piercing gaze locking with Kane’s. Emory couldn’t help but admire the contrasting dynamics between the two. Kane, despite his intimidating exterior, had a rugged charm that intrigued Emory. Rahl, on the other hand, exuded a refined confidence that drew her in. As their silent conflict played out, Emory realized she had questions that needed answers—about Kane, Rahl, and the Dracans. “I’ll reveal it when the time is right, but not now. She needs to awaken and triumph in this tournament. You can’t postpone it indefinitely,” Kane stated, climbing the short steps to the platform. “We might need to schedule it for
The smell of gardenias welcomed her as Dante led her into a private bourgeois estate. It was surrounded by thick stone walls, with an army of guards patrolling the grounds. Although the area was isolated from the main tower, it was guarded with equal ferocity. As they approached the towering grand fortress, Emory wondered if this was the king’s court. The guards bowing to Dante when they passed further confirmed her suspicions, making her even more eager to enter. Imagining it may cause Lady Moore to burst into flames made her smile. A pair of guards flanking the double ornate oak door stepped forward to open the doors as they approached. Then Dante turned to her and gestured with an outstretched hand for her to enter. A snarl slipped unintentionally out of Emory’s mouth as he stared at her. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I won’t bite,” he joked. “If I do, it’ll only be a little.” When he leaned in, her breath caught as she stayed perfectly s
They followed the army of guards out of Dante’s estate to the tower, up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the castle. A set of heavy steel doors greeted them when they reached the top. It creaked open slightly, revealing a dark chamber, and Emory peered inside anxiously. As the guard in charge of the others turned to face Emory and Sabine, he frowned. “Lady Sabine, only the hunter was-” “Call me Emory or nothing at all, but never use that word again.” Emory’s words rang out with fiery emphasis. “I’ll be right here, Emory.” Sabine squeezed her hand and stepped back. Running her fingers through her damp red hair, Emory took a deep breath before entering. Whatever this was, she dreaded it because it made her stomach churn and her heart race. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the doors creaked shut and the room lit up. She squinted, straining her eyes to pick up the finer points of the room. Her eyes were drawn to the int