by R. E. Butler
Mytan put his head in her lap and let out a deep sigh.
She looked around and realized where they were. “Do you know what’s near here?”
“No, what?” Creek asked.
“Mytan’s lair. Can we go there?”
“If you want,” Jet said. “But we should head back soon. We don’t want Wrath storming through the forest bellowing your name.”
“No, we don’t,” she said.
“What’s in the lair that you want to see?” Jet asked.
They cleaned up the area and gathered their sacks. Trinity was carrying the lightest of the three bags, the one filled with the two aloe plants and bunches of mint. “He’s called a guardian of the forest, but do you know what he’s specifically guarding?”
Both males looked at her. “The forest, right?” Creek asked.
She shook her head with a smile. “Then I’ve got a surprise for you. Let’s go.”
* * *
Veltris stared at his scout. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” the young male said as he stood among the three other scouts. Veltris had sent them to spy on the Blood Wolves, who hadn’t made a move to harm any pack members in the last few days. He was so used to them coming after his people relentlessly that the sudden drop in attacks made him wary. He didn’t want to hope that they’d been killed off suddenly.
“Tell me again,” he said. He folded his arms and looked at the males.
The young male—Rahley—cleared his throat. “They’re building a house outside of their tunnel. They’ve cleared the land and felled trees.”
Lerrin nodded. “Wrath has a mating tattoo.”
“That’s not possible,” Veltris said. “Who the hell would mate that male?”
“She’s definitely human,” Rahley said. “And she’s tamed the Mytan.”
“Impossible,” Furio, Veltris’s theto, said with a snarl. “The beast kills everyone who crosses its path.”
“She was petting him, I swear to the great wolf,” Lerrin said.
“So a human mated Wrath. And you’re certain she has the tattoo?”
“Yes,” Rahley said. “She took off into the woods with two males and the Mytan. They’re heading toward the mountains. We left Pahn to follow them and rushed here to tell you.”
Veltris thought over the information he’d just received and made a quick decision. “Furio, gather as many males as you need and bring her to me.”
“How will we do that with the Mytan guarding her?”
“Use a smoke bomb,” Veltris said. His third-ranked male nodded sharply, barked orders for several of the males to follow him, and hurried away.
Gemma frowned. “What are you doing, Veltris?”
He looked at his mate, who only that morning had ventured out of their home. It was the first time since her abduction that she’d been willing to be outside. He put his arm around her and kissed her temple.
“I’m going to kill Wrath.”
“You just told Furio to take the woman, though.”
“If she really is his true mate, then he’ll come for her. I’ll kill him when he does.”
She pushed on his shoulder, and he reluctantly released her. “Why would you take her?”
He looked at his mate. She was pissed. “I will do whatever necessary to ensure our people’s safety, particularly yours.”
“I’m safe now.” She put her hands on her hips and blew out a breath. “I heard what the scouts said. Wrath has clearly had a change of heart now that he found his true mate. They’re building a house for crap sake!”
Veltris snorted. “Be that as it may, he’s a menace. All the Blood Wolves are. Make no mistake, sweetheart, but I will take them all out, starting with Wrath.” He leaned a little closer to her, dropping his voice as he cupped her face. “You know I love you, but I won’t have you come at me like this in front of my people. You want to bitch at me, do it in private, not in public.”
She jerked back like he’d struck her, her eyes wide with confusion. She seemed to gather her wits quickly, because she squared her shoulders and said, “As you wish. Alpha.”
She turned on her heels and stalked away. Veltris could feel her fury through their connection as mates. This was so not something he needed to deal with now. Gemma was feeling sorry for Wrath’s mate, but there was a big difference between Veltris and Wrath—Veltris wouldn’t harm Wrath’s mate. She was a pawn, and he’d use her to lure Wrath to his death. She’d most likely die of heartache, but that wouldn’t be on him. It wasn’t his fault that her true mate was a murderer and a threat to everything Veltris held dear.
Gemma would get over this. She’d see that he’d made the right choice to send his males after Wrath’s mate. In the end, the pack’s safety was paramount, and the only way they’d be safe for good was if Wrath and his band of mutts were wiped off the face of the earth.
Chapter Twelve
It took them about ten minutes to get to Mytan’s lair. When the cavern that was carved into the base of the mountain came into view, Mytan howled happily and raced ahead, ducking into the cavern, and disappearing inside.
“Hold on,” Creek said, stopping and opening his pack. He pulled out a candle and lit it with flint and a rock then handed it to Jet.
“You always carry a candle with you?” Trinity asked.
“Well, I didn’t always. But a couple months ago, I was out picking fruit and a storm came out of nowhere. I ran for cover and had to wait it out. By the time the storm had moved on, it was pitch black out. I can see okay in the dark because of my wolf, but not when there’s zero natural light. I shifted and navigated home by smell, which was not nearly as easy as if I’d had a way to light the path. Ever since then, I carry a candle when I leave in the afternoon.”
“That’s smart,” she said.
Jet looked at the candle and said, “This won’t do much.”
“There are lanterns in the cavern,” she said.
He arched a brow at her. “There are?”
“I created it, remember?”
He shook his head with a smile. “I keep forgetting you’re not from here.”
They walked to the entrance to the cavern. The big beast had needed to duck down to enter, but Trinity and the wolves were able to walk in with ease. Jet moved to the front, holding the candle high. The tunnel turned sharply to the left, and when they’d walked a few more feet after the turn, they found themselves inside the cavern itself. The huge circular room was carved out of the rock, with a smooth floor and glittering black walls.
Mytan was snuffling around the room, his nose to the ground.
On a carved ledge were lanterns filled with oil. She took one down and lifted the glass. Jet lit the wick with the candle, the brightness illuminating the cavern.
Jet blew out the candle and gave it back to Creek.
“Damn,” Creek said, looking around the room. “What kind of rock is this? I’ve never seen it before.”
“It’s granite,” she said. “Where I’m from, people cut big slabs of it, polish it, and make counters and floors out of it.”
Jet hummed. “So aside from the pretty walls, what is Mytan the guardian of?”
She gave Creek the lantern and walked to the far side of the room. Mytan slept in this spot on a bed made of animal hides. The big beast joined her, sitting on his haunches with a curious whine. Creek and Jet joined her, Creek lifting the lantern high, which cast the bright light on the wall in front of her. Just over her head was an alcove. She went onto her toes and wrapped her hands around the vessel and brought it down, turning to face the males.
The vessel was a beautiful black marble urn. She ran her fingers along the engraved name—Victor. Her eyes stung with tears as emotion welled within her.
Creek’s and Jet’s eyes dropped to the urn. While Creek looked confused, Jet’s brows winged up. “Is that who I think it is?”
She nodded, blinking away the tears and taking in a steadying breath. “This urn contains the ashes of my father, Victor. W
hen I created the cavern for Mytan’s lair, I wanted him to have an important job, so I made him the guardian of the lair, which holds the ashes of the first wolf.”
“Your father is the first wolf? But how is that possible? Wolves have been around for centuries,” Creek said.
She shrugged. “Isolde said there were some things I created that became truth in this world; Mytan—and the legend of the first alpha—are two of those. Magic, I guess, is the best answer to how I was able to create a legend that is actually the truth, for something that happened way, way before my dad was even born.”
“What happened to him?” Creek asked.
“He was a truck driver. There was a particularly brutal winter that year, and he was doing a long-haul delivery. When he climbed out of his truck, he slipped on the icy step and hit his head. He fell into a coma, never even woke up.” She knew they didn’t understand what a truck was, so she explained that he made deliveries in a vehicle that resembled a wagon.
“I’m sorry you lost your father,” Creek said. “What about your mother?”
“She died a few years ago. She got the flu and then pneumonia, and it just overwhelmed her system.”
“Is there no one else in your family alive?” Creek asked. “Are you leaving anyone behind when you stay here in our world?”
“It’s just me now. My parents didn’t have any siblings, and my grandparents passed away when I was younger. I’m an only child. I’ve always wished I had siblings, especially when my dad died, and it was just me and Mom.”
“I’m thankful for River,” Creek said. “Being with him made things a little easier to handle. Even if he can be an ass sometimes.”
Trinity smiled. She looked at the urn. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Turning, she replaced the urn on the shelf.
“Thanks for sharing it with us,” Jet said.
“I guess we should get back,” she said as she turned around.
“Probably,” Creek said. He put the lantern on the shelf and lifted the glass so Creek could relight the candle with the flame. Then Creek extinguished the lantern. The flickering light from the candle was quite dim compared to the lantern, and it took a moment for Trinity’s eyes to adjust to it.
She patted Mytan’s side. “Ready to go, pup?”
He rose slowly to his feet with a low growl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He faced the entrance to the cavern and lowered his head, his hackles raised. Creek and Jet looked at the entrance.
“Something’s wrong,” Trinity whispered.
“I feel it, too,” Creek said, swallowing hard. “Jet?”
“Stay behind me,” he ordered, moving to block Trinity and Creek from whatever was coming.
She suddenly wished they hadn’t stopped at the cavern, or that they’d posted someone at the tunnel entrance to keep a look out. She’d trusted they’d be safe because no one went into the Mytan’s lair.
She felt like a fool.
Something glittered in the air, and she realized as it fell toward the stone floor that it was made of glass. It shattered and smoke rose up swiftly, choking them. Jet shoved her to the floor where the smoke wasn’t as thick.
“Follow me!” he said with a rough voice. Mytan howled and fell to the floor with a thud. Trinity took in a breath as she lowered herself to the floor, her vision blurry and her ears ringing. Her lungs burned, the smoke infiltrating everything.
As she slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing she saw was a lantern being held above her by a male with sharp fangs and glowing, amber eyes.
* * *
Wrath straightened mid-swing of the ax, an intense fear washing over him. He dropped the ax and pressed his hand to his heart. He wasn’t afraid, but he could taste fear on the back of his tongue. His wolf howled in his mind, and suddenly he knew where the fear was coming from.
Trinity!
He could feel her emotions through their connection as mates, and her fear was so strong it was hitting him dead in the chest like an arrow.
“Trinity’s in trouble,” he said. “We need to find her.”
Cael looked at him in surprise. “How do you know?”
“I can feel it. Where are the damn fruits and vegetables they were harvesting?”
“I know where they are,” River said.
“Let’s go,” Wrath said. “Hurry.”
The males fell in with Wrath as their pack raced through the woods. River stopped at the berry patch, which had clearly been picked over. He muttered the word “yams” and took off again. Wrath was on his heels. Trinity’s fear was lessening, and Wrath didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. His connection to her was starting to get soft, more muted, and it scared the hell out of him.
They reached a place where the ground had been dug up and put back; he noticed claw marks and assumed that Mytan had helped them dig. The males looked at Wrath.
“Did Creek mention anything other than berries or yams?” Wrath asked.
Cael shook his head. “I only heard those things.”
“Damn it.” Wrath’s head dropped as worry plagued him. Where the hell would she go? He’d told her to be careful, told the males to watch her. He trusted Jet and Creek, knew they’d take her safety as seriously as their own, which meant they wouldn’t walk her into danger. Lifting his head, he touched his beast and opened his senses, looking for any sign of his mate.
He caught a faint trace of her scent. “This way.”
Following her scent, he realized swiftly that they were headed toward the mountain.
“What’s at the mountain except rocks?” Rook asked.
Then Wrath knew. “Mytan’s lair.”
“Why on earth would they want to go there?” Brae asked.
“She created Mytan, which means she created his lair. Maybe there’s something in the lair that she wanted or needed.” Wrath scowled as he continued his fast stride through the woods toward the mountains. He wished like hell she’d come back to their home first and asked him to join them. Then he’d know where she was. All he knew right now was that she wasn’t where she said she’d be, and the fear he felt through their connection was now gone. It had been easing away and then it disappeared abruptly. Which to him meant she was either not afraid anymore, or she wasn’t conscious.
A growl lodged in his throat, he pushed forward. They reached the mountains a few minutes later and located Mytan’s lair. The moment he stopped at the entrance to the cave, he smelled his wolves and Trinity. He raced inside, even though he felt in his heart that Trinity wasn’t there.
It was pitch black, and Wrath cursed not being able to see because there was no natural light. Something scraped and clacked, and a flicker of light flared behind him. He turned and saw Magnus had lit a small torch. Their healer stepped up next to Wrath and held it high, illuminating the cave. Mytan, Creek, and Jet were on the floor. Magnus handed the torch to Wrath and touched each one.
“They’re alive but unconscious. I smell smoke.”
Wrath sniffed, unsure of what the smoke meant.
“I think it’s a fhog bomb,” Dare said.
“Fog bomb?” Wrath asked, looking at him.
“F-H-O-G. It stands for the ingredients in a weapon that creates a toxic cloud of smoke. When a person breathes it in, it paralyzes them first to slow them down, and then it knocks them unconscious. My father worked on weapons for his pack, and that was something he created to aid in battle.”
“How long will it last?” Wrath asked.
“A few hours, though I don’t know how long it’s been since they were dosed. There isn’t anything to counteract the drug, it just has to wear off. We should get them outside into fresh air, though.”
“You know that Veltris took Trinity,” Trick said as he bent and slung Creek over his shoulder.
“You don’t know that,” Dare said. “I don’t smell anyone but our people.”
“Who the hell else would take her?” Trick said.
Wrath helped carry the enormous Mytan
out into the fresh air. He knelt next to the big beast and stroked his soft, furry face. “I have my share of enemies,” Wrath said softly. “But no one has ever come on the offensive to us like this.” Silently, he cursed himself for setting a precedent of stealing true mates. If he’d never abducted true mates, perhaps whoever took Trinity wouldn’t have had the urge to do so. He saw the horrible truth of what he’d done to others. His heart was breaking, and his mind was a shambles; his wolf pacing and furious that she’d been taken when he’d sworn to protect her.
“I believe it was Veltris, but I can’t be certain. If we go after their people and it wasn’t them, we’ll waste valuable time. We need to wake up Mytan.”
“Why him? He can’t talk,” River asked as he knelt next to Creek.
“But he’s connected to her. I’m certain he can find her.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Mytan’s. Centering himself and calming his wolf’s fury, he reached out for the connection to Trinity. He couldn’t really feel her, which told him she was still unconscious. He wouldn’t entertain the idea of her death. He knew he would feel if she’d died; their connection would sever, and it would be a physical pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before. But she wasn’t awake, that much he was sure of. Focusing all his love on his mate, he said to Mytan, “I need you, pup. I don’t know how she made you, but she did, and I know you can find her. Wake up, damn it. Wake up!”
* * *
Trinity woke up slowly, her head pounding and her vision blurry. She pressed a hand to her temple and let out a sob at the sharp pain. Blinking rapidly, she tried to dispel the blurriness. As her vision returned slowly, she tried to lift her head, but the increased pressure made her stay put. She ran her hands around her to see what she could feel, realizing she was laying on a wooden floor, which told her she wasn’t in Mytan’s lair anymore.
Careful to move slowly, she pushed through the pain in her head and slowly sat up. Her vision swam and her ears rang, and a terrible metallic taste in her mouth made her want to retch. But she finally made it to a seated position, leaning her back against a rough wood wall. Panting for breath, she blinked the tears from her eyes that the strain of sitting up had given her and looked around.