Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

Gray

" Y ou have fought with these men before?" Callum asks. He wears a look somewhere between awe and mystification as he stares across at the barbarian horde making camp in the forest.

"They are a little rough around the edges," I say. "But fearsome. Rufus really fucked up stealing their queen and thinking it might deter them from joining the war."

"There are a lot of them," Callum adds unnecessarily.

"Aye," I say, "You piss one of them off, you piss them all off."

I shudder, thinking about the queen who was taken and whom I have met several times. She has four mates, and I get the impression it takes all of them to keep her in hand. Still, she has a keen sense of justice and is fiercely protective of her clanswomen. It heartens me that such a woman is with Ada and Lizbeth.

Our plans have changed, as plans in war often need to. Now, we are set to liberate not only the stolen pack mates but also our mates.

There are still a few loyal to us who were assimilated into the Canis ranks and who bring us news from inside the pack den at great risks to themselves. The two young betas, former Ludstone pack members, restored my faith shaken by Saul and Don's actions. Our mates are being kept deep below ground, along with the others held hostage.

One step at a time, that is all I can do.

There has been no time for grieving for a lost father or the others who fell, nor for lingering on the betrayal that led us to the here and now. It is the nature of such times that they bring out the best and worst in people. For some, it shows their heroism; for others, it reveals their weakness.

So here we are on the precipice of war.

There is no more training or time.

Tomorrow, we shall fight.

They know we are here. Perhaps they have heard we bring allies with us. They have allies of their own and believe that they have the advantage.

They do.

This is an unavoidable fact. Some of us shall fall.

I never thought much about life and death. I lived a simple, indulgent life until Lizbeth and Arlo were taken. I have fought when occasion needed, for there is honor in dying a warrior's death in battle. I was never afraid of it.

Now, I experience something more: a reason to fight harder than I have ever fought before and a desire to live—for her.

There is no life without her. While we are not yet bonded, I will willingly give my life should it be necessary to save her.

I swallow, feeling the emotion of the moment. I've gotten so little time to know her, and I am fucking greedy for more—a lifetime, with love, laughter, and hot rutting in the furs. Time enough to see her belly swell with young, to watch those children grow.

Gods, I want so much more.

Callum is quiet beside me. We have done everything we can and are as ready as we can be.

"I can't believe that bastard seeks to claim our mate," Callum mutters, his brows pinched into a scowl. "If he has touched her…"

A dark, burning sensation settles in the pit of my gut. It is but a small redeeming factor that Rufus will not kill Ada when he seeks her for himself. "He will be too busy to touch her," I say, and I fucking pray that it is true.

I tell myself that Ada is a survivor, that even if he does the unthinkable, she will find a way to endure, so we might have the opportunity to bring her lovingly back into our care. But I do not demean what such circumstances do to a woman. Every moment taken to get us to the here and now has been too fucking long.

One might presume to understand what it is to be a pack leader by watching one, as I did with my father. It is only when you take on the leader's role, and the responsibility falls to your shoulders, that you truly know.

It is the same with a mate. Only now do I realize how I exist not only to love her but also to protect her, nurture her spirit, and guard her and our future babes from the dangers of life.

I hate that I have failed her.

There is no fixing the past. It is done.

A man peels away from the barbarian camp ahead and strides over to us.

"If that bastard has touched Ada," Callum says lowly as our new ally joins us. "I will cut off his dick and set it on fire while he watches and weeps."

Our new ally lifts one brow before giving an approving nod. It is not easy for a human man to go up against shifters. We are natural-born killers who can communicate with each other and fight as one. But Eric is an alpha and so is no ordinary man, broad-chested, and of a height with me, although his musculature is far more pronounced.

The ax that hangs at his hip and the many scars upon his flesh tell me he is no stranger to conflict.

"You will have to get in the queue behind my mate," he says with a humorless smile. "The last of our warriors are here. We are ready."

"Good," Callum says decisively. "It is time."