A curse comes from Sir Rey as Flash's words work their way into our skulls.
The Empire is here.
Sir Rey reaches for a large broadsword along the Imperial’s wall, hefting it with ease.
He grabs my shoulder before I can go out the door first. “Sire, we need you alive. No matter the cost.”
I open my mouth to protest, but something in his demeanor... I nod in acquiescence and let him go first. He looks both ways, then nods at us. I emerge behind Sir Rey, Flash guarding my back.
We rush through the village, men and women fighting for their lives, wolves and cats fighting tooth and claw. Wails, whimpers, shouts, and cries of pain ring in my ears. The oily, coppery scent of blood clings to my nostrils. I breathe through my mouth, but then I can taste the blood on my tongue.
My jaw clenches and I force my muscles to relax. I take stock of the fight.
Shifters race between Were, snapping, biting through throat, muscle, and bone. One large black Alpha jumps from a pile of refuse, aiming for my head, lips pulled to reveal fangs. Sir Rey swings his broadsword and knocks the wolf from the air, almost cleaving it in two.
I stab another Shifter who came for Sir Rey while he was pulling his sword from the corpse and Flash engages another wolf with a hiss and fingers curled into claws.
Flash perks up, turning his eyes to me as he jerks his head, questioning if he can go.
I give a quick nod, and in seconds a black cat stands in place of Flash. He darts into the fray, his swishing tail the last thing to disappear into the shadows after he slashes the thigh of a Shifter who almost took the head of a Were.
Were and Shifters leave a mass of gore in their wake as rivers of blood coat the muddy mess of snow and rock beneath our feet.
A wolf darts around a Were, leaping for my throat. I grab him by the throat inches before his rabid bite could tear my larynx out. He writhes beneath my hand when I slam him into the ground.
The hair on the back of my neck stands, and I kick out behind me, feeling a crack beneath my boot.
I crack the hilt of my dagger on the brain stem of the wolf beneath my hand. He goes still.
I stand, looking around. More Shifters dart from the shadows. It bothers me how they move, but before I can link what is itching in the back of my brain, a Shifter slashes at my side, then spins before I can retaliate.
I put my hand to my side and feel a small trail of blood.
I grin, stalking him. He darts forward, his eyes and face devoid of emotion.
He tries the same move as before, but I step inside his guard and head-butt him. He crashes to the ground.
Kill him. I ignore Cynic, opting instead to sweep the legs from a Shifter attacking Sir Rey, grab a wolf by the scruff, and crack another's jaw with my fist.
The wolf in my hands goes still when I toss him into a wall and he splats on the ground like jello.
I knock out two more Shifters in quick succession, something about them not setting right with me… but I don’t have time to think on it because I see Flash. And he is not alone.
Barry rides the black cat, whooping.
I am going to kill that cat for bringing my brother into battle.
“FLASH!” I yell, a low, threatening growl bursting from my throat, even as Barry shoots a rock from his slingshot and nails a bear of a Shifter right between the eyes, making him shake his head. It gives the Were kneeling in front of him time to stab him in the thigh and scramble away, blood seeping from between the Were's fingers as he holds his throat.
Flash meets my gaze, his ears perked and mischief dancing within.
I’m going to kill you, I say with my eyes, jabbing with my fist and nailing a man in the throat.
The kid needs this, his eyes say right back as he darts beneath grasping hands and hamstrings a rogue Shifter.
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I look away, knowing Barry and Jed need to feel empowered and bold and in control… but I don’t want them here. Battle is no place for my brothers.
A Shifter kicks out, but I twist out of the way, blocking his next kick with my forearm. I grab his ankle before he can retreat and I slam my elbow into his knee.
I grab the front of his tattered jerkin as he howls in pain, throwing him at a wolf who had Sir Rey by the throat.
The Shifter crashes into the grey wolf, and they tumble in a mishmash of arms and legs, hitting and smashing into the side of a Berserk sized water trough with a crunch.
The Shifter looks up and I swear his eyes widen before they are drowned in a waterfall.
I try not to smile as they splash and splutter in the deluge of water; the mud slicking beneath their feet. I don't think they'll be any trouble for a moment.
I leap a downed Shifter, plunging my blade into the back of a wolf who had one of my pack pinned.
A small voice screams, terror and fear in her tiny voice, and I look up from my bloodied blade to see Essie barreling down the street, her eyes wide and mouth open as she gasps for air.
A Shifter in human form grabs her by the hair and puts a knife to her throat. She hisses and tries to pry the knife from her neck, leaving long gouges weeping blood in his forearm, but he takes no notice as his blade cuts her skin and threatens to pierce deeper.
I do the one thing I swore to never, ever do. “Enough.” My Alpha comes out to play in a low growl that reverberates through the village.
Something in the air becomes charged, my hair standing on end. And then a wave explodes from me and almost drops me to a knee. It’s as if a force had sucked the life through my wolf and into each wolf-soul.
I meant to stop the one wolf holding Essie.
I meant to merely keep her alive until I could get to her.
What happens instead floors me.
As the wave passes each wolf, they stop, their eyes rolling in their heads and whimpers coming from their throats. Whimpers I didn’t think they could make while under a forced Bond.
But, strangely, although I was trying to protect Essie alone... it encompassed all wolves. The Shifters. Both in my pack and the attacking force.
All Shifters not Alphas stop dead in their tracks. A few are stabbed through or decapitated before the Were and my pack knew what was occurring.
Command is only supposed to work on pack—those who have submitted to your leadership. Yet, this is more.
It makes my skin crawl, that I might’ve accidentally killed my pack if what I’d done had stopped them and not the enemy.
Idiot, it worked. Thank your lucky stars and move!
The wave comes back, slamming me onto my back and filling me with a vast sense of power. And it frightens me that I like it.
Sir Rey puts the bloodied broadsword over his shoulder as I get up, the flat of the blade resting on his dark tunic and staining it with blood. “All hail King Roland!” he shouts from his knees.
The rogue Shifters drop to their knees against their wills, and the Alphas visibly strain against the Command holding them captive. But their eyes… their eyes are a void where life should be. They have no feeling within them, and their movements are oddly stilted.
My heart grows cold.
I flex my Wolf, and even the rogue Alphas bow before him. He growls, contentment leaking through to my human side as the darkness within rumbles in satisfaction. And a dangerous pride wells within me, an over-confidence that I seek to qual before it gets me, or others, killed.
“All hail King Roland!” the brave warriors of the village cry in a mighty war cry, raising bloody weapons to the sky and shouting our victory.
“Come here,” I Command the Shifters, and I feel my Wolf line up with my words, compelling the Shifters without word to obey the strongest. It’s instinct, it’s survival. It’s pack hierarchy.
I hate it and the conflicting emotions it brings. Such a power should not be possible.
All Shifters, from those who came with Sir Rey to the enemy Shifters who attacked under the Emperor’s command, come before me. They move with stilted steps, a darkness in their scent.
My blood runs cold.
I open my mouth—
War cries interrupt me from the woods across a clearing, and thirty bows with arrows that look odd with little orbs on the end tapered to a point instead of the usual metal end, point to the village, with who knows how many more men hiding in the woods behind them.
How did they find Jishul?
“Surrender in the name of the Emperor!” a man calls.
Flash, and a good many other Were, laugh outright.
“Let your mighty Emperor come down and show his face. Then we may quiver in fear!” Zephora taunts the man, raising a bloody sword in a mock salute.
I love that cat.
I’ll tell Heather.
I swear, idiot, you are trying to make me kill you.
I grin.
“It seems we are at a stalemate. Take your men and leave and no one else must die,” I yell. The men around me strike their swords to their chests if they have breastplates or against any metal near them. The sound reverberates throughout the Were village, a mighty sound of hundreds of Were and Shifter and Human of one mind and soul.
The man across the clearing seethes, his slim and pale face pulled into a scowl.
“We will be back. You had better be prepared for more than blood upon our return,” the man turns, and the rest of his men turn with him.
When he snaps his fingers, the Shifters who are enslaved groan.
He turns his head with a frown, his eyebrows pulling low on his forehead. “Come,” he calls to the Shifters, and their bodies fight against both sides pulling on them. One side is the Command, which is linked deep into their instinct for survival, and the other the forced Bond, driving them into servitude.
One Omega shivers uncontrollably and begins foaming at the mouth. She goes still shortly after, and something inside me snaps.
Black smoke boils from my chest instead of the usual tendrils, and I roar as I transform.
My nose elongates and my fingers curl into claws. My ears go further up my head and grow into pointed tufts as hair sprouts all along my body.
My molars snap closed in threat as saliva drips from my fangs. I stand, a half-wolf, half-man abomination, and for once... I welcome the power it grants.
These are my people. These are my pack. They will not be enslaved.
It is time for the Empire to pay.