“I have been in closed-door training, Master,” Luna said, her pale blonde pigtails ruining the image of the mystical warrior she tried to project.
“Dammit, Luna!” he shouted, slamming the crowded table they sat at with his fists. “Have you consumed toxic herbs? Have the Fae stolen the words from your mouth? You and your brother have said the same thing for over a week!”
His outburst drew the attention of the other wolves sharing their table, causing their forks to pause in midair. Luna remained silent, shoveling food into her mouth like she needed the extra calories for her ‘training’.
“Loose lips are the spark that will burn down the forest,” Luna said, chewing on each word with her tongue as they left her mouth.
“What foolish nonsense! Who has been filling your head with such filth?” he snapped.
Luna held up a familiar book with a cowboy hat mocking him on the cover. “Page twenty-three.”
How dare she use his wisdom against him! This was the precise reason you shouldn’t write books of power while high on fae medicine.
“Fine!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air and turning toward what he hoped would be an easier target. Silas stiffened under his gaze, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
“I can help, Silas. My books contain all of your knowledge, but not all of mine. Imagine the terror we might cause if I trained with you,” he said, his voice lowering in beckoning temptation.
Silas stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him as if Noah’s eyes held a mystical power to ensnare his mind. Curious what had captured the teenager’s attention, Noah followed his gaze, slamming his fist on the table when he spied a mop leaning against the wall.
“You two have lost your minds!” he said through clenched teeth.
“I have been in closed-door training, Noah,” Silas said, sweat running down his forehead as he continued to gaze at the ancient mop that apparently was powerful enough for him to travel the world uncontested.
No! He hadn’t survived his past, only to end up having a nervous breakdown now. He rubbed his temples, doing his best to stave off the impending headache. Cheerful chatter buzzed around the table, but his precious Luna refused to look at him. What had become of the innocent girl who spilled secrets before they even formed?
Every day he searched for the siblings’ secret training ground and every day he returned home in failure. He had tried pleading with them, threatening them, and bribing them, but still, they remained silent as to their whereabouts. What horrors were they concocting in the woods unsupervised?
Sylvie could order them to reveal their secrets, but that would require him to confess that he had gifted manuals of war to children. A shiver coursed through him at the thought. No, this was the path they were on now, and not even the gods could change its inevitable course. Relief filled him as he realized he was not to blame for this situation, and he shifted the responsibility to anyone else with glee.
Over the past week, he had rotated which table he sat at every day, attempting to meet and mingle with as many wolves as he could. Not all the wolves welcomed his presence, but it appeared that killing a vampire trumped his human deficiencies in the eyes of most wolves. Despite wanting to throttle them, he dragged the siblings to a new table each morning, breaking the isolation they had clung to since their parents’ deaths.
They were tense around the unfamiliar faces and silent at the extra attention, but Luna secured loyal followers with her cuteness alone. If she used her powers of persuasion for evil, her armies would cover the lands, conquering the world without meeting a worthy resistance.
Noah was deep in thought as he pondered how he could utilize her power for his own purposes, when a swinging door slammed open, silencing the bustling conversations that filled the air. Water sprayed onto the wolf sitting across from him, as he choked and coughed at the appearance of his mate. Sylvie hadn’t eaten breakfast in the lodge since he had arrived, and she had chosen a most unfortunate day to do so. He nudged Luna’s book with his elbow, pushing it onto her lap and out of sight.
According to Wren, Ajax had never demeaned himself by eating with the peasants, so why should she? Every time Sylvie’s rule differed from her father’s, hostile rumors swirled around the pack and malicious whispers questioned her competency. Ajax’s god-like image within the pack cornered Sylvie into perpetuating his brutal legacy. Ignoring the stares of her subordinates, Sylvie sniffed the air, snapping her head in his direction once she caught his scent.
“Don’t say a word, and I will allow you to complete your training in peace,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth to the siblings. A smug smile spread across Silas’ face, and Luna threw a fist into the air, whooping in celebration of their victory.
“Hello, my mate! Have you come to dine with the pack this morning?” he asked, scrambling out of his chair to intercept Sylvie before she reached the table.
She remained silent, gazing at the dozens of pack mates who bonded over a shared meal and enjoyed each other’s company. A flash of longing appeared on her face before she could wipe it from her face.
“Noah, I need you to come with me to the territory boundary,” she said, focusing her attention on him.
She had never requested his presence for any pack duties, preferring to shelter him from such burdens. Something serious was going on, and he wiped any hit of playfulness or teasing from his face. Leaving his tray on the table, he grabbed his cane and followed her outside with as much haste as he could manage.
“Sylvie, what has happened?” he asked, practically running to keep up with her long strides.
Silence answered him, and her strides never slowed as she barreled through the violet flowers of the meadow. Her raven hair swirled in the wind, and her bronze skin, which would cause a goddess to weep in envy, soaked up the radiating sunlight. And yet, her shoulders sagged with a burden of responsibility that she never asked for, crushing her proud back beneath its weight.
“Sylvie!” he yelled, digging his heels into the dirt. Sensing danger, the purple flowers strained with all their might to vacate the stretch of meadow separating the two mates.
“Stubborn ass of a mate. Can’t you just do anything you’re told?” she shouted, whipping around to face him.
“Never! It’s one of my many charms, and you love me for it.”
Progress had been slow over the past week, but Sylvie had honored her promise. He watched as her alpha instincts bristled at his disobedience, causing her form to shimmer with an impending shift. Locked into a battle of wills, she squeezed her eyes shut in defiance, clenching her fists until her nails drew blood. Constant whispers of violence and domination consumed her mind and poisoned her thoughts, cursing her to wage a war that she could never win. A loving warmth filled his chest as he watched her battle her demons, struggling with every inch of her considerable power—all for him.
Not interrupting, he watched as she took deep, shuddering breaths until her form stabilized. He winced as she unclenched her fists, leaving smears of blood on her palms. “A human caravan has arrived at our border.”
“Is it from Greenwood?” he asked, excitement filling him at the prospect of seeing his old friends.
She shook her head with apologetic eyes. “They are not from Greenwood. They claim to hail from a territory located two months away by wagon.”
Shaking off his disappointment, he whistled and rubbed his chin in thought. “That is quite the distance to brave the Wilds. They are either idiotic or have the strength to protect their cargo through such dangerous lands.”
“That’s what worries me. With the threat of the Unseelie and the Vampires, we can’t afford to create another powerful enemy. I need you to greet the caravan by my side so that we can prove our pack is an ally to humanity.”
“Sylvie, I am not a subordinate wolf. I am your mate. If you ask me, I will move mountains for you. If you ask me, I will still the wind and gift you the sun. If you ask me, I will conquer death, monopolize love, and abolish despair…” he paused his passionate speech, ensuring that he had her complete attention. “…But you must ask me, my mate.”
Her eyes found the mating mark on his hand, and the tension bled from her body. “As you’ve discovered, Noah, humans do not respond well to the aggression of shifters. I represent the Baleful Fiend Pack in this negotiation, yet I have no experience in politics. Can you lend me your strength, my mate?”
He smiled as he watched his mate flush in embarrassment…a snarl ripped from her throat and she snapped at the air… he watched as his mate flushed in anger with no smile on his face.
“Of course, Sylvie. Even if the world turns against us, I will always stand by your side. You are my mate, and I will always give you whatever help I can.”
“Thank you, Noah,” she said, a dazzling smile spreading across her face.
“Now, we must hurry to the territory entrance.”
She turned away in a flash, striding through the purple flowers and beckoning him to follow with a wave of her hand. Warmth filled him as her raven hair fluttered in the wind, but he frowned when he saw her flawless bronze skin. Was this the perfect time? It had to be.
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“Not so fast, Sylvie,” he said, his feet not moving an inch.
Her body stiffened before her form shimmered, and she shifted into a massive black wolf. He retreated a few steps as he watched her rip apart the purple flowers with her fangs, flinging them into the air with a shake of her head. Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the perfect time. After the valiant flowers sacrificed their lives to calm her anger, she shifted back into her human form.
“Don’t push me, Noah!” she shouted, prowling toward him one slow step at a time.
“Please, my mate. I just wanted to reward you for the tremendous effort you have been making for me.”
Her steps slowed until she stood still, cocking her head with interest. “Reward?”
He studied every inch of her bronze skin, shaking his head as he found no blemishes. “It’s such a shame that you have no markings upon your skin, Sylvie. Perhaps you would allow me to place my own?”
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “You want to mark me as your mate?” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“Of course! How else will the world know that Sylvie, Alpha of the Baleful Fiend Pack, belongs to Noah of Greenwood?”
A searing lust filled her gaze, and she stalked toward him like a predator closing in on a prey. He retreated, taking slow steps backward and not making any sudden movements that would set off her wolfish instincts. A seductive smirk spread across her face as his back hit the lodge wall, cutting off any escape routes.
He held his breath as she closed the distance between them one step at a time, shuddering when she raked her nails down his chest. His eyes squeezed shut as she leaned down to nibble on his ear in full view of anyone gazing out of the lodge’s windows. His apprentices might be watching, and he couldn’t allow them to see such a pathetic performance. He was a man, dammit!
“Do you want to claim me, Noah? Do you want to see yourself engraved on my skin? Do you want the entire world to know that I can never be theirs because I belong only to you?” she asked, her tantalizing whispers bewitching his senses.
Wobbling on weak knees, he nodded his head, not trusting his voice to speak. She claimed his mouth with a ferocious kiss, provoking a moan that he didn’t know he was capable of making. It was not gentle and it was not playful. It was a possessive kiss that marked him more than the tattoo he planned on giving her.
Eventually, she ended the kiss, pulling away and allowing him to slump against the wall. “Deal! Now, let’s go meet the humans.”
Attempting to regain his faculties, he allowed her to grab his hand and lead him through the forest. How could a single kiss leave him unaware of the world around him?
A few hours later, they reached the territory entrance, and Noah forced Sylvie to wait while he fussed with his cowboy hat and trench coat. Appearances were everything, and his mate was relying on his gift of wit and his affinity for banter. As they emerged from the woods beneath the ever-watchful eyes of the territory symbol, his jaw dropped at the incredulous sight before him.
Hundreds of caravan wagons lined the road, stretching into the distance until they disappeared beyond the horizon. This was not a caravan intent on brokering a trade agreement. This was a show of force; whose only purpose was to intimidate the pack with their numbers. A snicker snuck its way from his throat as he pictured an intimidated Sylvie bowing to the powerful humans. He wished them luck!
Over fifty warrior wolves guarded the territory entrance, their yellow eyes inspecting every movement that the humans made. They needn’t have bothered with their constant vigilance. Ignoring the massive wolves as if they posed no threat, the humans gathered around their wagons, cooking and drinking while enjoying the heat of their campfires.
Shifting into her animal form, Sylvie bellowed out an ear-piercing howl, causing most of the humans to draw their silver weapons and scramble for cover. One group did not react to the howl and continued to sip their drinks by the fire, misplaced confidence allowing them to ignore the calls of a powerful alpha.
A man with streaks of grey running through his black hair glanced at Sylvie before dumping the rest of his beverage into the fire, causing the flames to flare into the sky. Accompanied by two men, the human leader approached the warrior wolves with confident steps. Sylvie shifted and walked a few steps forward to stand in front of the pack, but Noah remained behind the wolves. A human should not be this confident when confronting a shifter, and he needed to know why this leader wasn’t afraid before he made his appearance.
“Are you the Alpha of this pack?” the leader asked, twirling the ends of his mustache as he examined Sylvie. Noah clenched his cane as the man shook his head with a sigh, as if Sylvie didn’t measure up to his expectations.
Sylvie nodded her head, confirming the man’s suspicions. “I am the Alpha of the Baleful Fiend Pack. Do you speak for the caravan, human?”
“My name is Rhys and I represent the alliance of the DaVinci, Lafitte, and Masamune territories,” Rhys said with a smug smile, as if the names were supposed to impress them.
Noah frowned, searching his memories until he was forced to accept that he had never heard of these territories. How were independent settlements able to form a meaningful alliance? It was one thing to establish trade routes, but an alliance required military support that a settlement like Greenwood could never provide.
“And what is your business with our pack, Rhys?” Sylvie asked, not cowering before the supposed might this Rhys represented.
Rhys smiled before turning around to gesture at the caravan. “For now, we simply wish to establish trade with your pack. Our wagons are loaded with iron and manufactured goods. If you wish to exchange any of the precious herbs that grow in your territory, I’m sure that we can reach a prosperous accord.”
“We would be willing to trade some of our her—”
“Oh, and any spare claws and fangs you’d be willing to part with,” Rhys said, cutting Sylvie off mid-sentence.
A thundering of roars filled the air as the warrior wolves snapped at the air, drool dripping from their maws onto the ground. Rhys looked on with amusement, much too at ease for Noah to feel comfortable. “Or perhaps not. It seems your pack still follows the ancient traditions.”
Sylvie growled, silencing the roars in an instant. “My pack would never trade the remains of our loved ones.” Her eyes promised violence if this human dared to push her any further. “You said you are seeking trading partners for now, but what might your alliance be seeking in the future?”
“Has the wind carried the whispers of change to your ears, Alpha? Three centuries of stagnation are about to be blown apart, allowing the rivers of progress to flow once more. Those who do not fear the evils in the night have emerged, and they will not stand for the status quo any longer. We seek allies who will wage war against those who stole the night from us.”
“You will declare war on the Vampires?” Sylvie asked, eyes widening in disbelief.
“The Vampires…and the Unseelie,” Rhys said with a delusional smile.
“And the Unseelie?” Sylvie asked, running her hands through her hair. “I’m afraid the Baleful Fiend Pack has no interest in such a war.”
“Don’t be so hasty to slap away a friendly hand, Alpha,” Rhys said, all signs of amusement fleeing from his face.
The caravan leader glared at the wolves, attempting to emphasize the gravity of the mistake they were making. How could such an inexperienced moron be the leader of a delegation? Instead of shrinking back from his gaze, the wolves snapped at him, furious that this weak human challenged them with his eye contact.
Oblivious to the danger, Rhys continued to glare at the pack until his eyes fell on Noah. “And what do we have here? A human prisoner? I must say, Alpha, this is not what we had hoped for when we came to your territory.”
The sea of wolves parted, allowing Noah to approach the arrogant man. The whooshing of a twirling cane filled the air as he reached Sylvie’s side and tipped his hat to Rhys in greeting. “Good day, my fine gentleman. I’m afraid you are mistaken, as I am no prisoner. Regardless, it does warm my heart to see humans flourishing once more.”
“If you are not a prisoner, why would a human live amongst a wolf pack? Perhaps you are a traitor?” Rhys asked with a sneer.
“I’m afraid my irresistible charms were too powerful for me to control. What else can a man do but follow his heart?” Noah said, holding up his hand for the world to see.
Rhys’ eyes widened while the two men at his sides gasped. “A mating mark? How is that possible? I’ve never heard of a human mating with a shifter.”
Noah chuckled, approaching Rhys and wrapping an arm around the man’s shoulder. He leaned in as if to whisper, but, if anything, the volume of his voice rose. “It is rare I grant you that, but you have to understand, good sir, I once charmed a goddess into giving up her immortality. I once convinced a Seelie Princess to abdicate her throne. I once cured a common cold by persuading a coven leader to allow me to drink directly from her neck.”
Noah’s face turned more serious the longer his ramblings went on until he became lost in thought. “Perhaps I am too charming for my own good?”
The color drained from his face as a growl sounded out behind him. “Is that so, my mate? I did not realize that I had snagged a legend sought after by every maiden amongst the four races. I look forward to hearing about your romantic conquests later.”
Shit! Why must his words always betray him? Stretching his lips into a beaming smile, he turned around to face Sylvie, holding his arms out in apology. “My mate, it was all bluster, nothing more. Simple fairytales without a shred of truth to them.”
“Mated to the Alpha? Our leaders will be thrilled to ally with a shifter pack that has a human as its First Mate—” Rhys said, falling silent as something stole his attention.
Invasive fingers grabbed Noah’s trench coat, yanking the collar down and exposing his hidden scars to the world. Bile rose in his throat as violating fingers swiped across the back of his neck, picking and prodding at his humiliation. Rhys shoved him forward, spitting at his feet as he stumbled to his knees.
“You attempt to hide your shame with ink, but I see through your deception. You have mated with a traitor to the human race, Alpha. A blood slave to the vampires!” Rhys shouted for all to hear, invoking confused looks amongst the wolves.
“Tell me livestock, did you become a thrall willingly, or did you just accept your fate like a coward?”
A roar shook the forest and he barely had time to block the charging Sylvie, placing his hand on her snout to hold her at bay. “Neither, I’m afraid, good sir. I was born and raised in the vampire caverns. Unfortunately, my mind frightened them, and they cast me out for the rest of humanity to deal with.”
“We will not ally with a current or former blood slave. There is no way to know if you are a thrall or if you have a sickening allegiance to the monsters,” Rhys said, shaking his head in disgust.
As the wolves crowded around Noah, placing him in a protective circle and snarling at Rhys, he reached up to feel his lips. Beaming beneath his trembling fingers, his lips formed a smile that he had waited his entire life to grace his face. After hearing his greatest shame, the wolves of the pack leaned against him, providing protection and comfort from his fears. As he patted the closest wolf to him, a wolf whose name he didn’t know, a single word flashed through his mind. Family.
He heard Sylvie’s voice, snarling in a barely contained rage, but couldn’t see her over his massive pack mates. “I believe our negotiations are at an end, Rhys. I will give you one hour to leave my territory or the rivers of progress will turn into rivers of blood. Not a single one of you will survive the day, and I promise, your deaths will be filled with excruciating agony.”
“So short-sighted. Mates have always been the wolves’ weakness, so I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Rhys said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Don’t worry, Alpha. We will not tarry in such a worthless territory.”
Noah pushed his way through the warrior wolves until he stood beside Sylvie, grasping her hand and interlocking their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb across her hand as her form flickered between wolf and human, attempting to calm her emotions with his touch.
Orders rang out within the caravan and the members efficiently doused the fires, packed up the supplies, and boarded the wagons. Rhys jumped on his horse, preparing to take his rightful place at the head of the procession.
“Alpha,” he called out above the thundering of hooves and wagon wheels. “We will not allow a hostile territory to remain on our flank. If you desire survival, ensure that your pack remains neutral.” He galloped away without another word, disappearing beyond the horizon.