The moon was at its zenith in a nearly cloudless sky when Ash walked out onto the barracks deck. The yard was bathed in silver light, and the moon’s call for her wolf to run, to hunt, was stronger than she’d ever remembered. She knew why. Somewhere in the building twenty feet away, her quarry slept. Jace.
“Your shift doesn’t start for two hours, Captain,” Ryan said.
Ash scanned the dark narrow windows of the adjoining building, pinpointing the exact room on the first floor where Jace’s signature scent was the strongest. Even from here, even without the ultimate melding of their chemistries that followed a mating, she knew her. The demand to shed skin and rush that flimsy barrier was so acute she fought not to double over in pain. Sleeping, eating were an impossibility. She hungered not for nourishment or rest. Only the sight of her, the taste of her, would ease the craving. “I’ll take over. You’re relieved.”
He hesitated. Her agitation would have alerted his wolf.
Ash snarled. “That’s an order.”
“Yes, Captain.” Ryan snapped out a salute and quickly retreated inside.
The door closed behind him, and Ash was alone save for a few Weres who still sat around the fire pits, mostly the young—teasing, tussling, inviting. She recognized the timeless explorations of young wolves, finding their place, finding their Pack within a Pack. She’d had friends like that as an adolescent—other Weres she tussled with to prove her strength, and tangled with to declare her status, and challenged to earn her rank. Friends then, Packmates now. As they’d all drifted into their places, the ties remained, and now and then, they still tangled when the need arose, friendly and unencumbered. Evan had been one such Packmate when they’d been adolescents, but her wolf had chosen a different path when she’d matured, and now it seemed her wolf had fixed on the unattainable.
Jace was everything she shouldn’t want and couldn’t have—a ranking warrior of another Pack. Both dominants—true, but so were Sylvan Mir and Drake McKinnon. Alpha and Prima, matched in power, stronger together. Ash’s wolf feared no wolf, including Jace’s. They would meet as equals, neither the weaker. But Jace was a Timberwolf, and she was Snowcrest. Allies now, perhaps, but allies sometimes became rivals. Where would her allegiance fall then? With Pack or mate? Ash gripped the wooden post, her claws digging trenches in the scarred upright. Pointless to wonder.
Her stomach clenched and her wolf jumped to attention with a sharp bark of anticipation. Ash couldn’t smother the surge of triumph and self-satisfaction. Her prey had come to her.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Jace said, her eyes gleaming in the shadows.
Ash shook her head. “Preoccupied.”
“So am I.” Jace leapt over the railing and crossed to stand beside her. Her shoulder brushed Ash’s, just a whisper of contact, but the heat raced through her.
“We leave in a few hours,” Ash murmured. “It’s the hunt keeping us on edge.”
“Which one?” Jace said, a gravelly rumble deep in her throat.
Ash readied, already full and hot. No place, no time.
“You know what I hunt.” Ash turned, cupped Jace’s jaw, ran her thumb over the arch of her stark cheekbone. “This more than any other.”
Jace clasped her flank, pulled her tight until their hips met. Even in the darkness, her eyes glowed. “You’re right. I know. I’m hunting too.”
“You should go,” Ash said, ignoring the claws that shredded her inside. The demand that weakened her resolve and burned along her spine. So easy just to turn her head, show her throat, invite the bite. To give and then take. “Go.”
“In a minute.” Jace kissed her, and the essence of black current and cedar surrounded her, soothing and exciting.
Ash clasped Jace’s nape, held her in the kiss, probed and teased and stroked, wild to devour. She caught Jace’s lip, tugged it hard enough to elicit a growl.
Jace backed her against the post. Kissed her while gripping her shirt and yanking it free of her pants. Ash snarled and caught her wrist, breaking the tantalizing caress. “No.”
Jace pulled away, gasping. “We’re not done.”
“You presume, Wolf.” Ash’s breath came hard and fast. Her resolve fled with every beat of her heart. Jace tasted of truth.
“Do I? I know you want me.” Jace grinned, her canines glittering in the moonlight. And then she leapt over the railing and disappeared into the dark again. Her voice floated back. “Remember what I said.”
Ash rubbed her midsection, the knot of need a constant pain. Not done.
* * *
The rest of the night was quiet. Ash sensed Jace awake, as restless as her.
Others in the Compound awakened before dawn. Weres emerged from the barracks and out of the surrounding woods, changing form for a morning run in pelt, leaping from the stockade into the outer perimeter and racing toward the forested paths. Trainees burst out of the door behind her and stormed across the deck, laughing and cajoling, pushing and shoving, teasing and tussling, racing en masse toward the dining hall. Soldiers in fatigues carrying equipment bags and weapons congregated around the largest fire pit. The Timberwolf hunters.
Ash sensed her Alpha approaching and snapped to attention. Zora emerged, Evan, Ryan, and Cybil behind her. Cybil carried Ash’s gear bag along with her own.
Ash saluted. “Alpha.”
“Captain.” Zora, in boots and a plain black shirt and pants, stepped up beside her, hands on her narrow hips, and surveyed the Compound. “All quiet?”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“We have a few minutes,” Zora said. “The guards should see to getting a meal. We won’t have time when we reach Snowcrest territory. There’s been another raid.”
Ash stiffened. “Casualties?”
“Another sentry missing.” Zora’s jaw tightened.
“The tracks will be fresh,” Ash said.
Zora stepped down onto the yard. “Yes, and this time we’ll find them.”
Sylvan and the Prima, surrounded by the centuri, entered the Compound. Zora went to meet them.
Ash said, “Ryan—make sure we have stowed enough rations for several days in the field. We won’t be going to Cresthome first.”
“Aye, Captain,” he said and jogged away.
Ash followed Zora to meet the Timberwolves.
“Alpha, Captain,” Sylvan said by way of greeting.
“Alpha Mir,” Zora said. “I just received a message there’s been another raid.”
Sylvan’s gaze narrowed. “Location?”
Zora gave her the coordinates. “Only two sentries were on post. One is missing. The other had little to offer but is remaining on site.”
“Good.” Sylvan turned to the Prima. “If we go overland through our own territory rather than on the highways, we can keep our arrival quiet.”
Drake nodded. “The Rovers can make good time even off-road, and the route will be more direct. About the same time overall. I’ll brief the drivers on the change of plans.”
“Niki,” Sylvan said, “assemble your warriors. We may be headed into an immediate engagement.”
“Good news then.” The imperator grinned, looking as close to feral as Ash had even seen an uninfected Were. Ash’s wolf bristled and bared her teeth. Sensing her wariness, Niki flashed her a smile, canines showing.
Sylvan faced Zora. “Will you have time to deploy any of your soldiers?”
“I’ve ordered my guards to remain at Cresthome. I don’t anticipate an attack there, but I can’t take the chance.” Zora grimaced. “I’m afraid I have none to spare.”
Sylvan shrugged. “We have enough. As soon as Lord Torren arrives, we’ll leave.”
Zora frowned. “When do you expect her?”
Sylvan glanced at the sky. The moon was reaching its nadir and the sun was about to cross its path on its ascent. “Any second.”
Ash caught a glimmer of Sylvan’s smile just as the air inside the gates glittered with a thin mist of iridescent fog. For a second the stockade fence seemed to melt away and then Torren and the female Were she’d been with earlier stepped into view.
“That was a Faerie Gate,” Zora murmured. “I didn’t realize there were any this far north.”
“Torren makes her own Gates,” Sylvan said mildly.
“Does she.” Zora’s tone was wary. “Powerful.”
“Mm,” Sylvan said, “for a Fae.”
Zora laughed, Were to Were. “Of course.”
Torren, one hand on Misha’s back, drew close and nodded a greeting. “Alphas, Prima.”
“It seems we’ll have a fresh trail,” Sylvan said and filled her in.
“Excellent,” Torren said.
Five Rovers, heavily armored, pulled into the yard.
“You and your guards will ride in the first car, Alpha Constantine.”
When Ash climbed into the rear of the Rover, stowed her equipment bag under the metal bench, and sat to her Alpha’s left, she was directly across from Sylvan’s senior centuri. Jace occupied the middle of the bench, her head tilted back as the Rover pulled out, her lids slightly lowered, her gaze fixed on Ash.
* * *
Trent pulled the Rover off-trail several miles from where the Snowcrest sentries had been attacked. Ash and the others disembarked and waited in the dense pine forest while Zora, Sylvan, the Prima, and Torren conferred. Jace slipped through the knot of warriors and moved in close behind Ash.
“It’s a good morning for a run,” Jace said.
Ash did not turn, but Jace sensed Ash’s wolf alerting to her presence, eager and pushing to be closer. Jace smiled to herself.
“Good morning for a hunt,” Ash murmured.
Jace rested a hand between them, low on Ash’s back. Heat pushed its way through the fabric of Ash’s shirt, seared her flesh. She needed to touch her before they headed into danger, when she could not shield her. She pressed her hips close against Ash’s rear, a reminder of the claim she hadn’t made but felt in her blood all the same. “See to your Alpha if we run into trouble, and let us do the fighting.”
“I’ll do what needs to be done,” Ash said, but her voice held reassurance rather than challenge.
“Then do it carefully,” Jace murmured. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Ash reached back, stroked the curve of Jace’s thigh. “Nor I you, centuri.”
“Remember,” Jace said, “when the hunt is done, I’ll want you.”
Ash laughed, but inside her wolf huffed, pleased. “You presume again.”
Jace leaned close, her mouth close to Ash’s ear. “I do. And I will.”
Zora motioned Ash to join her.
“Until after the hunt then,” Ash said.
When Ash joined the Alpha, Zora said, “We’ll take half of the Timberwolf warriors and circle around to the sentry’s position from the southeast. Alpha Mir and the rest of her warriors will approach from the northwest, while Lord Torren and Brett, the Timberwolf lead tracker, take the center. We’ll cover any potential trail that way, and if any intruders remain, we will encircle them at strength.”
Ash saluted. “As you will, Alpha. I’ll inform the others.”
After Sylvan divided up her forces, the Prima joined Zora with Jace, Jonathan, and the remaining Timberwolves. Zora’s wolf emerged and all the others followed. As the Weres shed skin and dropped to all fours, a glow surrounded Torren, and a huge Hound, as large as a pony with canines extending the length of a wolf’s foreleg, appeared in her place. Leathery skin, dappled brown and gray, sheathed her sleek muscled shoulders. Her fathomless eyes, the irises eclipsed by inky pupils, promised an eternity of anguish. Shivering in the presence of such ancient and deadly force, Ash bit back a howl. The Hound shook herself and nudged playfully at the much smaller wolf who nipped at her muzzle with a peevish snap. Torren’s Were mate. The Hound seemed pleased to have annoyed her wolf and set off into the trees at a casual lope. The wolf kept pace easily, and the pair melted into the forest.
Ash padded to the Alpha’s side with Evan taking the opposite guard. The Timberwolves phalanxed their Prima. Zora and the Prima ran side by side, setting the pace for the wolf Pack that streamed into the forest, spreading out as it traveled. Finally free, Ash’s wolf breathed deep. The morning air was crisp and cool and clear, and beneath the scent of the forest, Jace. The Timberwolf was out of sight now, but Ash’s wolf knew exactly where she was in the wolf Pack. Not too far away to reach if Jace needed her. Close enough to protect.
Running at hunt pace, they covered the distance to the outpost in less than half an hour. Torren had already arrived and sat on her haunches in a swath of sunlight before a craggy rock face whiskered with pines clinging to the crevices, slanting over the deer trail and providing cover for the two Snowcrest sentries who’d been on guard. One remained, a young red-and-brown-pelted male. Ash knew him—he’d been a trainee not that long ago. Now he was a veteran of a war they couldn’t even define. He crouched twenty feet away, hackles raised, teeth bared—growling at the Hound. Sylvan emerged, leading her warriors, and trotted over to join Zora.
Torren chuffed, an eerie amused sound, and stretched her long forelegs out in the direction of the sentry. The sentry growled and looked ready to spring.
Stand down, Zora broadcast and padded over to the sentry. She rubbed her muzzle against the top of his head, and he whined in greeting. Comforted by the Alpha’s presence, he relaxed his defensive posture but kept a wary eye on the Hound.
The sound of an engine grew louder, and a Rover edged out of the undergrowth. The wolves shed pelt and grabbed clothes from the back. The air around the Hound wavered, and then Torren stood in her place, dressed as she had been that morning in a royal blue brocade shirt, tapered charcoal pants, and sleek black boots that came to her knees.
Sylvan, Drake, Zora, and their guards gathered around the two trackers.
“Anything?” Sylvan asked.
“The scents are mixed,” Brett said. “Were but not Were. And something I can’t identify.”
Torren nodded. “Yes—either the raiders are masking their scent in some way, or we’re dealing with more than just the usual border skirmishes between Packs. The scents are strongest here in this clearing, but no tracks lead in or out.”
“This area is heavily forested.” Sylvan frowned. “An airdrop would be difficult but there ought to be tracks from the approach once they landed.”
Zora shook her head. “No, the sentry says he heard nothing before they were under fire, and they couldn’t pinpoint a direction. He said it was as if they were suddenly surrounded in mist, and they couldn’t see anything. He was struck unconscious, and when he awoke, the enemy was gone. So was the other sentry.”
The Prima shook her head. “That makes no sense. Why leave him alive? And what was the point to begin with? Have there been any demands?”
“None,” Zora said. “Thus far the attacks have been swift and focused on incapacitating our sentries, but perhaps they plan to interfere with our trade routes or our hunting grounds next.”
Ash understood what the Alpha would not admit openly—the continued raids created unrest in the Pack and could call the Alpha’s abilities to protect the Pack into question. The Alpha had already withstood more challenges than most in her position.
“No,” Torren said. “If that was the case, they would attack those directly. I think your sentries are bait.”
“For what?” Zora growled.
“More importantly,” Torren mused, “for who?”
Sylvan said, “Where’s the next outpost closest to your perimeter?”
“Twenty miles north of here.”
“Then that’s where we should go.”
Drake said, “We can’t overlook the possibility that Cresthome is also a target. Whoever’s behind this appears to be able to travel at will.” She turned to Torren. “It’s a Gate, isn’t it?”
Torren nodded. “Yes, I think so. I can taste the remnants of power. Only a very few Fae can open a Gate so precisely. Cecilia, Queen of Thorns and All of Faerie, Ruler of Dark and Light, Mistress of All Seasons, appears to be tired of allowing the Praeterns of this realm to rule themselves.”
“Niki,” Sylvan said sharply, “take half the company to Cresthome and secure their perimeter.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Sylvan stroked Drake’s back. “The rest of us will head to the nearest outpost and set up camp. If they’re looking for bait, we’ll give them some.”