Chapter 5 A wolf-man still lived

Lena woke to the taste of copper and the feeling that she had been run through a grain mill.

Pain rolled through her the moment she tried to move. Her limbs were lead. Every muscle ached from the night before, and underneath the aching sat something worse: a hollow, numb nothing, as though the oath had scooped out part of her and forgotten to put it back.

Cold stone pressed against her cheek. A fine reminder. She was not safe. She was not free.

Boots echoed down the corridor.

"Where is she?"

Darius.

She could barely lift her head, but she heard the clank of chains and the scrape of a key, and only then did she understand where she was. A cell. Not her own bed, not even the slaves' quarters. A cell.

The iron door groaned open.

Darius stepped inside and the tiny room shrank around him like a hearth around a wildfire. He crouched in front of her, red eye and blue eye sweeping over her slowly, the way a man studies a puzzle he has already solved and found boring.

"Good morning, wife. You look dreadful. Married life clearly does not suit you."

Lena flinched and tried to scoot away.

"Oh, come now." His mouth curled. "That is no way to greet your husband."

"Stay away from me!"

He ignored her. "Kara," he said, tilting his head. "Do you know why you woke up in a cell on the morning after your wedding?"

"I do not care. Get out!"

His hand shot out and closed around her throat.

Lena clawed at his wrist. He squeezed, not enough to choke her, just enough to remind her whose hand it was.

"I never expected you to care. Not with Lydia's blood in your veins." His voice was ice, every word honed to an edge. "But you will pay for your mother's sins. For the blood she spilled. My mother's blood."

His eyes burned with something old and cruel.

"You will beg for mercy, little wife. And I will never give it."

A tear slid down Lena's cheek. "My mother is not..."

The words died on her tongue.

No. Not again.

It felt as though a hook had sunk into the truth and ripped it out by the roots.

Darius watched her fight it, then chuckled low. "Still hunting for the exit. Here is a little secret, darling. There is not one."

He let go. Lena dragged in a ragged breath, and his gaze slid to her wrist.

The smirk slipped off his face.

The ritual cut was still open. Raw edges, barely clotted, angry red. A wound like that should have knitted by dawn.

"Why are you not healing?"

Lena snatched her arm back and curled her fingers over the gash. "Because I am not a wolf, you arrogant ass!"

Silence.

Then, to her horror, he seized her by the nape and wrenched her head sideways. His thumb dragged over her skin, searching, and stopped.

The mark of restraint, half red, half silver, pulsing faintly under his touch.

His lips parted. For a heartbeat she could have sworn something flickered across his face, and then it was gone.

"So that is how your mother did it." His voice dropped, softer now and far more dangerous. "She chained your wolf and sent me a powerless little bride. Did she think I would lose interest if you were useless?"

He rose to his full height.

"Honestly, it works in my favor. I do not have to chase wolves who run."

He turned and walked out. The door clanged shut and the lock turned.

Lena stared at the ceiling, heart hammering.

What had he seen? Why had his voice changed when he touched her birthmark?

Beta Cedric hurried after Darius as the Alpha strode toward his study. "Alpha, the rogues are camped outside our border, hunting for a way in. They are blocking the humans and other species from reaching the clan."

Darius reached his desk and glanced at the scattered scrolls with a sigh. "Which is bad for business, is it not?"

"Terrible, Alpha. The human merchants have turned back at the bridge, and even the witches' caravan is refusing to cross."

"Fucking marvelous." Darius dropped into his chair. "Tell Jade to ready the army. Have them herd the rogues into the woods. I feel like a hunt." A smirk curled his lips.

Cedric bowed. "At once, Alpha."

He was almost at the door when Darius spoke again. "And Cedric. Fetch my wife from the cell and take her to the healer."

Cedric hesitated. "The healer, Alpha? Surely the Luna will mend on her own, being a wolf."

Darius's face darkened. "Do not call her that. Ever." His voice dropped to ice. "And she is human. Do I need to say it twice?"

Cedric dropped to one knee. "Forgive me, Alpha."

~~~~~~~~~

Darius stood at the edge of the forest, one hand on his jaw, and surveyed the dark landscape.

"Alpha, they are in," Jade's voice came through the mind-link.

A grin tugged at his mouth. "Excellent."

He bolted.

The narrow trails blurred past him, his speed untouchable even in human form, and he reveled in it, letting his body change by slow degrees with every stride. Darius had a rare gift. He could run for miles without tiring and shift only when he chose to. He liked the slow burn. He liked the exact moment his beast took the reins.

Then he let go.

Bones snapped. Muscles tore and stretched. His body surged outward into something monstrous, a black-furred beast standing on two legs and towering over the trees, crimson eyes gleaming with hunger.

"Draven, do you hear anything?"

"They are scattered all over the field like seed," his wolf rumbled, licking his chops. "Oh gods, the smell. They are practically begging."

Over a hundred and fifty rogues stood in the clearing, their howls shaking the trees.

"Like what you see?" Darius taunted aloud.

"Fuck yes. It has been too long since you let me out. You have been unbearable."

Then the rogues charged.

A mistake.

Draven hated it when prey ran toward him. He preferred the chase.

"Fools," he growled, his voice rolling across the clearing like thunder.

He howled, a sound that cracked the night and made even the bravest wolves cringe. One step, and the ground shook. Another, and the rogues stumbled.

"Run, you rats!"

They broke and fled.

Draven grinned. Finally.

He lunged, and the hunt was on.

There was nothing graceful about it. He was a storm with teeth. A wolf leapt at him and he caught it mid-air, fangs punching into its throat, then whipped his head and snapped its neck with a crack that echoed through the trees. Another came from behind. He spun, claws flashing, and the rogue's head left its shoulders before its body understood it was dead.

A third tried to bolt. He landed on its back, claws sinking deep, and tore out its windpipe in one clean wrench while it screamed.

More came. They always did.

He smiled with his whole terrible maw. Come on, then.

Blood sprayed across the leaves. Claws opened one chest after another, and the warm iron smell hung thick in the air, intoxicating. A wolf tried to crawl away. He pinned it down and closed his teeth over its skull. A quick jerk, a wet crack, and the fight left its body.

Kill after kill, he moved like a shadow with a grudge, leaving only carnage behind.

This was the hunt.

This was the thrill.

This was what he was born for.

When the clearing finally fell silent, he shifted back into his human form. His clothes were intact, not a stitch torn.

Other wolves howled and screamed when they shifted, bones breaking, clothes shredding like wet paper. Not him. His control was absolute.

"Show-off," Draven muttered.

"Always," Darius said, rolling his shoulders.

No one needed to remind him what he was.

He was no ordinary Alpha.

He was a wolf-man.