Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Callum

S omehow, we resist further rutting, clean up, and don our clothes. There's nothing else for Ada to wear except the saucy outfit—I have torn half the buttons off, and it now offers a nice view of her cleavage.

Gray mutters under his breath as he eyeballs it.

Unexpectedly, I find myself grinning. There is something fucking hot about sharing a woman, knowing that all the things you admire, he is admiring in her too. There is still the odd spike of jealousy, more often when he touches her in a simple way that holds familiarity. But it passes, and I remember what I can look forward to tonight.

I don't know how we get out the fucking door.

We do, heading down to meet the others.

Here I am reminded that Gray has recently lost his father, that what we shared last night was a brief, perfect interlude, and that danger lurks in our future.

Gray

"I have allies among the barbarian clans," I say as we sit down to make plans in a quiet corner of the tavern. It is morning, and we have the place to ourselves.

Yesterday, the news was fresh and raw. Today, I need to face my future, to do right by my pack and my mate. My father was a good man, and although we did not agree on everything, he held all my respect and love. My mother died some years ago, and it is a small mercy that she is with the Goddess and not subjected to that monster, Rufus.

"How will that help?" Saul asks, his brows pulling together. "They live far away… and are not known for their reliability. They fight among each other more often, from what I have heard."

I understand his skepticism. Many shifters do not trust beyond their pack—it is the nature of a wolf. Saul is my uncle on my mother's side. He had a high rank among our pack, was trusted by my father, and was ambitious for his son, Don.

I have been focused on my own pain and the risk this poses for Ada, and the pack as a collective. Now, I see the deeper, individual costs. Like many wolves, Saul is prideful, and hiding among the human villages is a mighty fall from grace.

"But there is also no chance they are in bed with Rufus," I say. "The king I have in mind fucking hates him and has mentioned as much more than once."

"Everybody hates him," Arlo says. "Or they are scared of him."

"What about the pack members he is holding hostage?" Lizbeth asks. "Do we know where they are?"

My gut clenches. Ada, ever sensitive, reaches to take my hand. She came from difficult beginnings. Her father sold her out for coins to pay off his debt, and how I hate that I have brought her into this fresh trouble.

"He holds them at the Canis den. Treating them no better than the lowest servants," Saul says, his voice clipped.

"We shall get them out," I say.

"From his pack den?" Arlo asks.

A year as a prisoner of orcs, only to come home to this. Not that it is easy for anyone. He is not a child anymore, I remind myself. Has not been for a long while.

"If that is what it takes, then yes."

He nods, decisive, in total agreement. I am fucking proud of him.

"Saul, Don, you will travel ahead to the Halket clan and speak to Eric, their king. You will travel faster as wolves. Tell him I am calling on that favor. But also ensure he knows who my quarrel is with." My grin is wry. "He will be sharpening his ax before you finish the conversation. We will follow on by horse."

"If you need to go—" Ada starts to speak.

"Not a fucking chance I will leave you alone," I say.

Callum

We head into the courtyard and prepare the horses for travel. Saul and Don leave everything behind, shift, and take off for the clans.

My beast remains alert and prepared for what is to come.

He has lain dormant for so long. He tells me he was never warranted within Bleakness and understood the risk of presenting himself there.

My mind drifts back to Bleakness and my father. I am sorrowful that I never got a chance to speak to him in person, and I wonder how he felt when he read the note. He will understand, and if he were here now and could offer his counsel, he would urge me to embrace all that has happened: to embrace my new place and do all I can to help this decimated pack in their hour of need.

Perhaps I should question Gray, his integrity, and the integrity of his pack more. Maybe they are warmongers who brought this upon themselves.

Yet something is growing between us, a burgeoning connection I feel in the center of my chest. I sometimes get a fleeting impression of deep emotions welling within Gray. His possessiveness toward Ada is a mirror of my own. But when he speaks of his father or his fallen pack, I hear reverence and a keen loss that does not speak of a monster nor a monstrous pack.

Instinct tells me my beast would not accept him if his morals were weak, that he is good and his pack worthy of saving.

When I am so far from home and my father's guidance, I feel, in some ways, alone and yet also reborn. There is no one here to tell me what to do. I must decide that for myself. Today I realize I have been making my own decisions for a while. My father would listen to my concerns but encourage me to draw conclusions for myself, allowing me to grow and become a man—to become an alpha.

I miss him. It has only been a week, and I miss him.

I dare say that Ada misses the people of the tavern: Tim, the human-orc proprietor who took her in, Betsy and all the other staff who became friends with her.

We cannot look backward; there is only a path before us and a future yet unknown.

My decision to be with Gray and Ada is the right one—the only one.

Ada

A distant wolf's cry brings a stillness to the tavern courtyard. As one, every head lifts and turns.

Another howl.

"Inside now!" Gray roars.

The air crackles and pops around as shifters take wolf form.

I turn rigid with fear—the need to flee, battling with the confusion as to where I might escape to.

The tavern lads scatter up the ladder into the loft above the barn. The proprietor pokes his head out the back tavern door only to slam it shut again. There is a distinct rattle that suggests he just shoved the bolt into place.

Callum's body judders as he tries to shift. He seems to warp between the two forms for an agonizing period, his face contorted before he finally manifests as his bipedal beast.

"Get her to safety!" Gray growls, and I turn to look back at him just as he slams into a charging wolf. Knocking him to the ground, his teeth snap and he tears out the wolf's throat.

The air leaves my lungs as Callum tosses me over his shoulder and takes off at a run.

Around us, the courtyard turns to chaos and blood as shifters collide with savage intent.

Then something slams into us, bowling Callum over and sending me sprawling against the cobbles. The back of my head connects with something solid with a dull thunk that rattles my skull.

The last thing I see before darkness comes for me is Callum, surrounded by wolves, fighting for his life.