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Chapter 2

Briar May

The laughter of the twins filled up the spaces between the trees in the woods she knew like her own body. They were familiar and comforting, the ancient trees in so many varieties, the rough sandpapery brown bark, the smooth papery white interrupted by black bands, the soft moss and rustling leaves, the whisper of pine needles and the melodies of birds. This was her home away from her small cabin. Others preferred the open fields, the small lake, or the creeks, but she was a child of the forest.

She loved bringing the twins here. Laurel and Harlan were curious and playful. It was good, having young wolves in the family again. Not that the pack didn’t have plenty, but none that she’d ever been entrusted to watch over the way she did her niece and nephew now. At nearing forty, she’d always hoped one day to have a family of her own. But when her father had been alpha, pack laws were strict. Mates could only be taken from the neighboring packs that shared their boundaries and history. However, no one had sparked her interest. Now that her brother, Kieran, was alpha things might change.

But it was still early days…

“You smell good!” Laurel leaned in and sniffed at Briar May’s flowing cotton dress.

She liked vintage clothing. This one was blue with small yellow flowers smattered through the fabric. The princess cut at the waist, the heart-shaped sweetheart neckline, the small cap sleeves, the fluttering skirt—it was all so perfectly made. When she wore it, she liked to think of its previous owner enjoying similar long, hot summer days.

“Thank you. It’s the new perfume your mom made.”

“She was supposed to be doing herbs, like grandma does, but she likes the perfume better.” Laurel sounded uncertain about that, like it might be a crime to give up on medicine and find one’s own calling.

“I think she’s still studying herbal medicine, it’s just that she’s found another interest and she’s very good at it. She’s still working with your grandma, like before.” Before the ten-year gap. Before Zora left and hid herself in the city, hid the twins because she was afraid of what Kieran and his pack might do to them.

The answer was, of course, nothing except love them and cherish them, but Zora didn’t know that. She hadn’t been raised in the pack. There was so much that an outsider couldn’t know because it was kept from them. To outsiders, only the alpha could have family and under the old law anyone who transgressed was punished. Her father had outlawed this, but the pack had kept its secrets. It was only through a stroke of luck that Kieran found out about the twins at all. He’d immediately set out to win Zora’s forgiveness, her trust, and her heart. He’d defied his parents’ wishes and taken her for a mate, but they made him alpha anyway. In the four months that Kieran had been alpha of the Nightfall Pack, he had tried to change things. But any changes would be very slow, however with his mate by his side, Briar May was certain that the pack would flourish.

It was a good love story. A beautiful one, really. A love that everyone in the pack could see plainly displayed at any time of the day or night, whenever Zora and Kieran were together.

That love should have warmed Briar May, but it made her feel empty. It was a reminder of the things she’d never have. She’d be forty in a few weeks, and there she was, childless and alone. Afraid of life. Afraid to venture past their pack lands. She was afraid of the city, the boiling humanity, the endless unknown.

She had an older sister who had yet to take a mate. Her oldest brother was banished for an unspeakable crime that she’d had to piece together from the barest sort of information, carefully guarded by Kieran and her father. They thought not knowing the horror was better for her. None of her eight younger siblings had taken a mate either. So far, only her brother, the alpha, had a mate and children. Even with the freedom to choose a mate from the neighboring lands, it seemed that the Nightfalls were doomed to follow an archaic law that wasn’t actually law anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Harlan wasn’t normally a very intuitive child when it came to emotions, but then again, what ten-year-old boy was? Give the kid something wired with endless mechanisms and electronics to fix, and he was a genius. Give him tools or wood, anything he could build or take apart and he worked small wonders, just like this dad. Feelings? Emotions? That wasn’t his strong suit.

“You look sad,” Laurel agreed. She took Briar May’s hand and stared up at her with massive brown eyes.

Harlan edged around them, uncertain about how to communicate his worry. He looked lost until he picked up a particularly lovely leaf, shaped like a star, and held it out to her.

“I’m not sad.” Briar May swallowed past the lump of undeclared sorrow that made it feel like she was suffocating. How could she explain to a pair of ten-year-olds what it was like to feel like your life was just passing you by? She couldn’t tell them of the panic she was sometimes gripped with. The pointlessness of her own existence. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Well, you look sad.” Laurel’s fingers threaded through hers, so much smaller.

“Here.” Harlan passed her the leaf. “Look at the veins. It’s so cool.”

She took it and she did look, holding it out for Laurel to see as well. He was right. The veins were obvious, tiny little intricate patterns that spread over the surface. It looked flawless. She wondered why it had fallen when it was so perfectly formed.

Overhead suddenly, a raven called. They all looked up, her heart stopping in her chest. Some believed that ravens were bad omens, she thought they were beautiful. They were brilliant birds, so interesting and majestic. Despite her wonder at the raven, she shivered involuntarily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that out there, someone was watching her. The woods felt strange. Different. Less comforting than usual. There was no reason to feel that way. She was perfectly safe in the heart of their lands. She would never have taken the twins anywhere that wasn’t guarded and protected.

“Do you think Mom can make a scent that smells like birds in flight?”

It was a strange question. She forgot all about the creepy feeling of not being alone, the same sensation she’d had for days now, and smiled at her niece. “What does a bird in flight smell like exactly?”

“Hmm. Cold air? Freedom? Something crisp and fresh. Snow and trees.”

“Snow doesn’t smell,” Harlan said, and poked his sister with a stick he’d found, then ran off.

She squealed, tearing away from Briar May to go racing after him playfully.

The raven took flight at the loud noise, and she found herself relaxing. The past weeks, she’d just felt unsettled. Over the last few months, there had been a lot of change in their pack. It was probably just that. That and the passing spring revolving into summer. She’d felt lost before. Useless. Even slightly hopeless. Watching her brother fall in love all over again had sparked something inside her that ached with a fresh loneliness. Zora glowed with the light of her brother’s affections, taking up the new challenge of resuming her mother’s healing work, but also finding a new love in making perfumes. She was useful. Her hands were never still. It was inspiring, but it also was a reminder of just how empty Briar May’s life truly was.

Yes, she helped. Yes, she had hobbies. But would the world miss her if she was gone?

She scrunched up her nose and refused to think about that.

The raven often symbolized change. As a good omen, it brought about rebirth. Something new dredged from the ashes of the old. It wasn’t going to happen to her, but she could figure out a way to make it a reality.

She couldn’t very well be waiting for something, that strange and unformed nebulous notion of a future, thinking it would never happen and all she’d ever have was a past, when she had such a beautiful present, in this very moment.

The twins dodged through the trees, weaving their way, bright and unafraid. Briar May’s heart lightened. She needed to stay in this moment. To focus on the joyous laughter, the warm air, the sharp scent of nature all around them. That was all that mattered. She’d hold it close until the pit of sadness, that terrible darkness inside her, ceased to be.

“Laurel! Harlan! Not so far!” Briar May hurried to keep up, the hem of her dress swirling around her knees, floating like a bluebell in a strong breeze.

The twins were ahead, laughing and shrieking as they ran through the trees, but Briar May sensed the disturbance at her back. She whirled, her wolf crying out in warning even before her eyes could take in the scene. She’d never known danger so great in her life. She was always shielded and carefully sheltered, but she didn’t freeze. She screamed over her shoulder, loudly for the twins.

“Run! Run to your parents. Now!”

Time seemed to freeze. She watched the twins turn and take in her warning. They saw the threat behind her, they were far enough ahead that they had time. They didn’t hesitate. They listened and obeyed, shifting instantly in a bright explosion of clothing and fur, and then streaked though the woods in the opposite direction, heading away from her and the danger at her back.

All her life, she’d done nothing.

All her life led her straight to this moment.

The three men charged through the woods, men so fearsome they looked like reapers coming to collect on a debt owed to the devil, a bargain she wasn’t aware she’d made. They came on, so oddly soundless that it seemed like they belonged to a mist that wasn’t there.

The leader was terrifying. He looked like a Viking from centuries past, with his head shaved at the sides, his flaxen hair long on top and braided back against his skull. An axe in each raised hand, he led the charge. He wore all black, like the smudges on his face around a flowing blond beard. The two men accompanying him were similar in appearance, though darker in hair. Their clothes might be modern fatigues, but the resemblance to the warriors of old was uncanny.

Run. They’re here for you. They’re going to kill you. Is this how you want to die? Without so much as a fight? Is that how you want to be remembered? You’re a Nightfall. Fight like one.

She couldn’t know that the devils were there for her, but something in her mind argued they were. She had the twins at her back, and she had to keep these men between herself and the kids. The twins were ten years old. Innocent. They had to survive. She’d ensure they had enough time to reach safety. They’d get help, but it only mattered that they were protected.

Letting out a harsh scream, Briar May threw back her head and charged. Her waist-length hair streamed out after her, a white battle flag, but there was nothing peaceful about the way she launched herself nimbly through the woods. She was a lone woman, slight and delicate. She was no warrior. But she was indeed a Nightfall and every single one of Silas and Lilac’s children had been taught to defend themselves. Above all, she was a wolf.

So were they.

When she finally took a breath in her mad headlong dash, she scented them.

She increased her war cry, hoping her screams could be heard back at the big cabin. There might be hope for her then. She kept charging and so did they. She rushed at them without fear and they never slowed. There was going to be a collision. She’d hit their leader, the one with the gleaming axes. She could see the runes imprinted on the steel now. Carved into the wood where a set of beastly strong hands wrapped around them.

She concentrated on the shift. The only chance she stood was taking him down as a wolf. She gave herself over and out of nowhere a steel chain sang through the air, tangling around her arms and torso. She screamed, falling to the ground. She reached for her wolf and for the first time in her life, found the animal there, but not there. It was like her mind had been reduced to cinders and the wolf was trapped in a cage, somewhere she couldn’t reach her.

The chain was wrapped with hecolite stones, the large chunks of rock wrapped with sliver wire like a grotesque necklace. She’d never held the stone, but she knew the lore of it. She knew that some believed it had the power of the moon, and the moon ultimately controlled everything on the earth. The tides, the cycles of life, the cycles and shifts of a person and a wolf. Whether it was true or not about the power of the moon, it did have the power to stop a shift. Which was why her pack hadn’t used hecolite in living memory—at least since her grandfather’s time, as they thought it a brutal punishment and keeping the stones on pack territory was strictly forbidden.

Her wolf struggled inside of her, calling for her, laboring pointlessly.

She thrashed on the ground, screaming and snarling.

The leader stopped when he reached her. He sheathed his axes behind his back in one single accurate movement, his powerful body flexing like an artform. In another lifetime, he’d be something of beauty, but in this one, he was the enemy.

He hefted her up like she weighed little more than a blanket. She screamed and thrashed, spitting and snapping when his face came into view. He thrust one big palm against her mouth, covering her nose as well. She couldn’t bite him, though she tried. His hold was so firm that she couldn’t draw in any air. Not through her mouth, not through her nose.

She stopped breathing, concentrated on holding her breath until it felt like her lungs were going to burst, until tiny white lights flashed behind her eyes.

Only when she went absolutely still did the beast shift his hand down to allow her air through her nose. She drank it in, expanding her lungs in great, greedy breaths that burned like fire. She didn’t dare make another sound for fear he’d deprive her of oxygen again.

Did that make her a coward?

No. She had to be alive to fight.

This was everything her brother and father and the rest of the men in the pack feared since Rome killed that group of Rangers who’d slaughtered his mate. They knew they had family somewhere. People who loved them. People who would ask questions when they went missing. People who might eventually find out that it was their pack and her brother who had killed them.

These men were here for retribution. They’d taken her because she was, what, easy pickings? Weak? Or had they wanted the children and settled for her as the next best thing?

The guards around their lands had been doubled since Rome’s attack on the Rangers. They had cameras, but there had been no sightings of any of the Ranger packs in the state. She’d been lulled into a false sense of security, even though she knew everyone was still on their guard. Were these men Rangers? Or where they something else?

The brute carrying her smelled like sweat, darkness, and impending death. But, if she was honest, he also smelled like dark spices. Licorice and herbs. Lemon. Mint. She knew without a doubt he was a killer. Death, violence, and blood were wrapped around him like a swirling pillar of black smoke.

A shiver went through her that wasn’t purely from the cold.

His massive body flexed with every long stride. He ran with ease even though he was carrying her, those heavy axes, the chains wrapped around her body. His chest expanded in and out, but it was as though he was just walking at a leisurely pace.

She could feel the heat of his skin through his black t-shirt. Being so close to him, scenting him, feeling the raw power of his body beneath hers like something immortal, caused her to break into goosebumps.

She hated herself, that her traitorous body was feeling things that her mind had not sanctioned. She was still terrified. She would still fight in any way she could. Her spirit was still raging, her wolf thrashing like a caged beast inside her feeble human skeleton, but there was something base and wrong inside her that she didn’t understand. A part of her that didn’t want to fight. That wanted to succumb. That wanted to be taken and owned.

Jesus, what the fuck? Was it the hecolite stones, or was it something else?

The strange sense of want and almost safety, of sudden heat and longing that she felt was all wrong. This brutal man and his evil companions were in the process of kidnapping her. They could do anything to her. They might not ransom her. They could torture her, kill her, rape her.

She had to swallow convulsively to keep the bile at the back of her throat.

Her mind cycled through the worst, dumping fear into her bloodstream, but fear gave her adrenaline. She had to be aware of every single movement, every single second, every possible opportunity to escape.

Her hopes died the minute she saw the Jeep hidden at the far end of the woods, along an old dirt road that skirted past their lands.

She made a noise of distress that never escaped the huge hand covering her mouth, when she saw Kain and Bastion slumped over, motionless on the ground. They were two of the pack’s best guards. They’d been tied up with the same stone-studded chain. Black fabric covered their mouths. They were just unconscious, she realized. No one would gag and tie a dead body.

These men could have killed them, cleaved them in half with one of those huge axes or shot them, stabbed them. But the fact that they hadn’t killed them had to mean something.

A sick surge of hope welled inside of her. It was premature and unwarranted, and she wished she hadn’t felt it at all. She couldn’t allow herself to be anything but ready for any opportunity she got to flee.

The second she was loaded roughly into the backseat with the man she assumed was the leader, and his two henchmen or whatever they were, climbed in the front and slammed the doors shut, she knew she only had herself to rely on. No one was coming for her in time. Her family wouldn’t reach her. She had her body and her wolf, if she could ever remove the chains wrapped around her, and that was it.

There could be no more hope. Only action. Only violence equal to what these beasts exuded. The smell of them permeated the enclosed space. Her nostrils flared with all that powerful stench. It crept into her lungs as a new black cloud, spreading ice cold fear to the heart of her.

The Jeep spun around and was rammed into a gear that ground before the next was found, but then it spun down the dirt path, rocking and swaying, spraying up dirt.

The movement made her head swim. It made her feel sick to her stomach. She nearly gagged again, but that hand still remained over her mouth. She was pressed up tightly against her captor, not because it was necessary any longer, but because he was so huge he took up the entire backseat. There was no room for a body that big to go.

A current of liquid warmth seeped through her, but it came from the pit of her stomach, the bottom of her aching heart, that black abyss she thought would always be there inside her. It spread peace through her limbs and assuaged her fears.

Shock. She had to be going into shock.

This was no time to register any sort of calm or peace or whatever that syrupy warmth was. It wasn’t hope. She was fresh out of that, and she didn’t want to feel it anyway because it was nothing more than a trick and a lie. The warmth was something else entirely, but she gave herself up to it because it was pleasant and she’d rather feel it than the icy shivers of terror clutching at her, making her sick to her stomach.

That animal warmth spread through her like an embrace. She closed her eyes and drifted into it, into the safety of that sensation. It was one of pure trust, love, shelter. At first, she was confused at the musk flooding the cab of the vehicle. She was even more alarmed when she realized it was coming from her own body. It was comforting, that scent, and animal, like one wolf pressing against another in the cold of the winter on a brisk run, their bodies hot and steaming in the dark night. It was raw and earthy, dark and animal.

Oh fuck. Her mom had told her about this…

“What the fuck is that smell?” the giant behind the wheel roared.

The shadow in the passenger seat ripped his head around. Why was he staring at her like that? No, not at her. At the man beside her.“What the fuck, Hades?”

“You’ve betrayed us. He’s played us. This is a trap.”

“Keep driving,” the man surrounding her, Hades, snapped.

“Why does she smell like that?” Shadow demanded. His eyes sliced her into a thousand pieces as they roved frantically back and forth between them.

“It’s a bonding scent,” Giant roared. “He’s tricked us into kidnapping his damn mate. He’s betrayed us.”

Briar May tried to wrench her eyes up into her captor’s face, she briefly caught a glimpse and noticed he seemed fearful, but then he moved like he was the very air. He couldn’t possibly move that fast, especially in that small, confined space, but it happened. He released her, drew one of his axes from behind his back. He smashed out with his opposite fist, catching Shadow under the chin. It was a blow that delivered immediate unconsciousness, and he slumped forward. In less than a blink, he had the axe notched under Giant’s chin.

“Keep driving,” he commanded, pinning him to his seat.

“Fuck. That. You’re going to die for betraying us. That’s a promise, you bastard.” Maybe he was trying to break free, or maybe he was trying to make good on that ominous threat by killing them all, but Giant punched the brakes and wrenched the wheel hard to the right.

The Jeep careened off the dirt road and for a sick instant they were flying. She heard a curse, and then strong arms wrapped around her and tugged her against a chest that was solid steel. He closed himself around her, and in all that confusion and fear and the immediate threat of pain that was coming, she felt more like she’d found her way home. She closed her eyes and leaned into that warmth and strength right before the vehicle came back down on its side with a twisting crunch of metal.

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