Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Four

Ada

I wake up cold and shivering, clinging to a source of warmth in the bare stone room—Lizbeth. As I slowly move, pain assaults every part of my body and I groan.

"How are you feeling?" Lizbeth asks.

My lips are dry and cracked; it feels like forever since I had a drink. I lift my head slowly from her shoulder, my fingers instinctively reaching for the egg at the back of my skull, wincing as I find the tender flesh.

I feel a little dizzy, but I don't think it's anything more than a lack of water and the trauma of the events. "My head aches, and I'm thirsty and freezing, but otherwise okay. You?"

"Same, less the headache."

"Come back and fight me, bastards! I dare you!"

The sudden outburst makes me jump. The woman pacing before the cell door wears hide pants, a matching vest, and leather knee-high boots. Her beautiful, long blonde hair is full of bouncy waves and contrasts with her black eye, bruised jaw, and the crusted blood on her lip. She introduced herself as the witch, but her name is Gwen, and she is the queen of a barbarian tribe.

She is also a warrior maiden, and I have little doubt she will obliterate any man or shifter unwise enough to unlock the door.

They don't unlock the door. The most we have gotten since we were shoved in this prison is the occasional bucket of water and some chunks of stale bread, most of which are distributed to the children and women who are pregnant or feeding.

Over fifty women and children of the former Ludstone pack share the dark vaulted cavern with us, locked away like criminals when word came that Gray was on the warpath.

At least, I pray that Callum and Gray still live. My last image of Callum was of him surrounded by a dozen wolves who were tearing into his flesh.

I blink the sting away from the back of my eyes. Neither pity nor worry will help me. The best I can do is to be strong, not only for me but for the sake of those I am trapped here with.

No thoughts or words can stop the sickness churning in my gut because if my mates live, I know they will come for me, and I fear then they will surely fall.

We are deep underground, and under guard.

"I've got an idea," Gwen says, her eyes shifting over the sea of downtrodden faces before settling on me.

She was out on a hunting trip when she was kidnapped. Rufus had gotten word that her clan king might support Gray and Callum. Unlike the beta shifters, who, without a pack leader, were cowed by the taking of mates, I believe the capture of Gwen will have had the opposite effect on her mates.

"What kind of idea?" I ask, feeling both nervous and hopeful.

She grins. Gwen is both fearsome and beautiful. I am already in awe of her, and more so when she lays out her plan.

Callum

A part of me wants to challenge Rufus head-on—the beastly part of me that I have only recently met. The man retains wits enough to know that winning trumps a reckless charge.

The barbarian warriors gather before the entrance to the Canis pack's den in enough numbers to give the impression we are all there.

Some of the Ludstone alphas and betas who have been waiting and watching have also rallied upon hearing of Gray's return. Although many more remain scattered or prisoners, their arrival has heartened Gray.

I want to hate him. I don't like him much sometimes, but I cannot find it in me to hate him. My beast beats his tail from side to side—he thinks Gray is noble of purpose.

My beast is also me, and I can admit that I might find him noble of purpose, too, were I not sick in my belly with worry for Ada.

I push worries down as Gray, Drake, Arlo, and I slip through the trees and circle to a forgotten entrance, sealed many years ago… And now unsealed with the help of some barbarians with stone-working skills.

"Gods, that made a fucking racket," Drake says as the blocked door and a large chunk of the surrounding rock face comes tumbling down.

There is no further point in subtlety. We charge into the den.

Ada

We go over the plan. It is not a complex plan. We are tired, cold, and hurting, and complex plans are beyond us, so this will have to do.

The beta mates are worried. But they are natural followers and are swayed by Gwen's magnetic presence and natural air of authority.

"Make it convincing," Gwen coaches. "I'm betting they won't want us dead until we have served our purpose. That they have not come down here to collect us and lord over their domination tells me our mates are still out there and dangerous."

I nod. Her words lift me and remind me of what is at stake. We will not cower in our prison. No, we shall escape for ourselves.

"I will. We have to do this. We must try. Also, their leader, Rufus, was a smug bastard, and I would very much like to kick him in the balls for daring to touch my hair. He wants to claim me. I will rip his cock off and feed it to him for even suggesting as much."

This is a bold claim on my part and one I cannot readily back up with genuine skills. I mean, I wouldn't even know how to go about it… Also, feeding it to him is a little macabre. But I feel better for making the threat and have no doubt I will find a way to make this happen if I am in the vicinity of the loathsome male again.

Gwen's smile is indulgent as she puts her hand on my shoulder. "Good lass. You are small but feisty. I like you well. Perhaps when this is over, I can coach you in some fighting techniques that are effective for smaller lasses against bigger men. I coach many women in my clan. You can be sure if I ever see a clansman walking with an awkward gait as might indicate he copped a fist or knee to his nuts, I order my mates to put a thumping on him to find out why."

"Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you!" I am convinced the women of Gwen's clan must adore their fierce, protective queen.

She nods. "Alright, everyone ready?"

We take up our positions, with children and pregnant women, well out of the way lest they court harm in the fray.

Seeing everyone is in place, Gwen turns back to me.

"I'm re—" I gasp as she fists my collar and takes me down to the dusty stone floor, her other fist raised menacingly.

I scream.

The other women scream, cry, shout, and rush around in fake confusion. "Help! She is killing the omega!" This chaotic, discordant medley brings the rapid beat of footsteps rushing toward the door.

As the bar lifts and a key rattles in the lock, we keep up our cries, women rushing every which way until the guards burst in.

Gwen turns, ducks under the swinging blade, and slams her fist into the guard's gut, head-butting him as he stumbles back.

He goes down hard.

As he hits the floor, the heel of her boot stamps down over his jaw.

The crack is audible.

She snatches up his sword and spins to meet the second guard. He abandons his weapon and springs, shifting to a wolf. Without missing a beat, she skewers him mid-jump, braces, and uses his momentum to send his body crashing into the wall.

He crumples to the floor, dead, once more a human.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Gwen winks at me. "Bastards who underestimate barbarian lasses don't live to tell about it."

I hate to use the swoon word to refer to someone who is not my mate, but I assuredly swoon.

"I think I love you," Lizbeth blurts, being far less subtle about her admiration. "Gods, cut my rope so I can shift. My wolf is hungry for blood."

Callum

The battling soon begins.

My larger form does not help me where I must fit through low, narrow passages. My wolf form offers the greatest benefit as I slash, claw, and tear into anyone who stands in my way.

Many flee or cower in their rooms.

I do not mind them. My war is not with the ordinary pack members but with the monster who leads them and those who follow his orders.

The higher we rise, the more resistance we meet, and the fiercer the fight. As injuries accumulate, I flash between my wolf and beast, healing wounds without a break in the fight.

The slash of claws.

The scent and taste of blood.

The agony of wounds and blows.

I am a monster.

I am dreadful in my wrath.

The more I fight, the more vicious and animal I become until I am nothing but instinct and purpose.

As we burst onto the floor of a giant cavern where daylight spills across the stone floor, I see my quarry.

A wolf, bigger than those around him, with a pale golden coat.

I have never met him in human or wolf form, yet I instinctively know it is him.

Rufus. The enemy pack leader.

My enemy.

I roar my challenge. His head swings my way. The body of a former beta wolf hangs from his jaws. He drops it carelessly and then leaps for me.

Gray

Callum is at my side, back legs bunched, about to leap in a challenge. His body is juddering and growing—there are no narrow passages to hold him back.

But he is also new to his beast.

"He is mine!" My command cracks like a whip. He may be the leader above all—a royal shifter—but it is the blood of my family and pack that has been spilled, and I will have my revenge.

Rufus and I leap as one. He is in wolf form, and I shift to meet him as such—one golden wolf and one gray. The world seems to stop around us as the many fights cease, and all eyes turn our way.

We slam together in the center of the cavern.

I don't even try to evade the blow, welcoming the pain as his claws slice into my shoulder and draw blood.

My claws slash to rake across his chest, a glancing blow and no more than a taster of what is to come.

He whines in pain as the strike knocks him from his feet. He springs up, lips curled as he glances back over his shoulder, looking for support.

None comes.

Behind me, I sense Callum has pumped up to his full, monstrous size. While I know he will not interfere, he will also not hesitate should any Canis members seek to wade in on this battle between Rufus and me.

The Canis leader is alone—and has probably always been alone. A bully who abuses all those beneath him never has true allies. Those who would follow his ilk are the first to turn tail when something more dangerous comes along.

I shift to beast form, spread my arms wide, and roar, daring him to come at me again—daring him to strike.

He remains a wolf.

Does he even have a beast? If I did not already know that he had taken my pack by treachery, it would be glaringly obvious now. I might even laugh at this pitiful male who has wreaked such havoc as he has.

There is only one outcome before me, and that is his death.

I charge him, slashing, drawing blood at his hind quarter, and sending him sprawling. He lashes back, jaws snapping and missing me by an inch.

Snarling, I whip around, taking him by the throat.

The killing blow would be so easy, but my wolf wants to play… to make Rufus pay. So instead, I toss him, sending him tumbling over until his paws can find purchase.

Indecision enters his eyes before the coward turns and flees.

I am on him, snatching him up by the scruff of the neck and tossing him into the center again. The rage within my wolf will not be easily calmed. He toys with his prey, and I give him free rein. I take Rufus to a dark place with every slash and blow—a place he will not escape from nor survive. Only when Rufus has been slashed, beaten, and savaged and is too weak to crawl do I finally stand over him in my beast, savoring the pain I see in his eyes.

"For my father and for my pack." I take him by the throat… and rip it out. Tossing his broken remains to the floor, I lift my bloody snout and howl.

Around the chamber, those loyal to me take up the call as the Canis pack lowers their heads in subjugation and defeat.

Wolves are vicious and unflinching when killing is to be done—barbarians are much the same. Some of Rufus's lieutenants make a break for it, and some try to fight.

All are torn to pieces as they meet swift justice until only the beta wolves are left cowering.

If I must sacrifice every member of this godless pack to find and free our women and mates, I won't hesitate.

"Callum! Gray!"

My head swings around, hearing a voice both familiar and dear to me.

Ada!

Ada

Blood. There is so much blood. It splatters over the floor of the great cavern and is smeared over fur and human flesh alike.

I stand, chest heaving. To my right, Lizbeth is in wolf form. To my left, Gwen stands, bloody sword in her hand. Behind us are yet more wolves and pups, all of us having fought our way out.

We didn't do so alone. A few of the beta shifters here offered help. It seems those living here in servitude made friends among the women and children. Emboldened by what was happening, they helped us at great risk had our pack not prevailed.

And so we arrive at the central cavern in time to see Gray defeat Rufus.

The dead shifter lies in human form. His body is barely recognizable after Gray has savaged him. Watching over them, like the lord that he is, stands Callum in his mighty beast form.

Lizbeth darts forward, breaking the shocked silence. Two wolves emerge from the crowd, charging toward her with equal enthusiasm. All three of them yap and lap at one another before they shift as one into their human forms: Drake, Arlo, and Lizbeth.

A great warrior with blonde hair likewise pushes through the crowd, three more warriors flanking him. I sense these fearsome barbarians are Gwen's mates, even before they break out in grins.

But I forget about everyone else as I run toward my mates.

They shift to human.

Callum is nearest and swings me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. Then Gray is there behind me, his warm body blanketing me. I wrap one arm around Callum's neck and reach back to do the same to Gray.

I feel the tremble in their hands, and where we press together.

Or perhaps it is me.

"I love you," I say. "I love you both. Gods, I have been so terrified."

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Callum demands.

"No, nothing new. Gwen is very determined when she has a mind to do something," I say. "She killed any guards who stood in her way."

"It is no less than they deserve," Callum says gruffly.

"What will happen now?" I ask, peering over my shoulder at Gray.

He brushes the hair back from my cheek and kisses the claiming mark. "Now we shall go home."

"But where is home?" I ask.

"The Ludstone pack den," he says. "It is empty from what we have heard, as all the Canis warriors came here to defend their den. Some have fled, along with their few allies. We shall get to them in time and make them pay. But for now, we will gather together those who have been lost to us till now, and reclaim our home."

"I would like to see your home," I say, turning back to face Callum, my handsome mate; the first one I acknowledged, "and to make it ours. All of ours. I would be happy anywhere, so long as it was with you both."

"There is just one small matter," Gray says, snagging my attention and making me gulp, for it sounds a little ominous. "The matter of your claiming. You cannot be our mate unless we claim you as such during a ceremony."

Callum chuckles—a wicked sound that scatters my thoughts and makes me aware of being squished perfectly between my two mates.

"C-claiming ceremony?"

"Aye," Gray says. "It is a tradition within the pack." The wicked male dares to wink at me. "In light of recent events, this will be the perfect opportunity for the pack to come together."

"Witness… You mean for them to watch us rut?"

"But don't worry about it," Callum says, his smirk sinful enough to make heat pool my core. "I have it on good authority that when your heat takes you, you won't care who is watching, and you beg us sweetly for our cock."

"I think you have forgotten how our mate is when she is desperate for dick," Gray says dryly.

I fear my cheeks might catch fire.

He doesn't say more; he doesn't need to. I already know I shall be a savage little thing, biting and raking them with my nails, demanding my dues. I am like that already, and will surely be worse when I succumb to my heat.

My belly is aflutter with nerves, thinking about being claimed before an entire pack, one I barely know. But I am also curious, aroused, and secretly pleased at the thought of making sure no other lasses in the pack are confused that my perfect mates are all mine.