Further in the distance, the stars appear almost reflected in the twinkling lights of the upcoming town.
Reed knows they’re coming. He must. The distance is too great and Reed is too much of a military man for them to take him by surprise. The best they can hope is that they’ve given him as little notice as they can.
Buildings are starting to appear in the scrubland, dotted at intervals along the road that get closer together as they approach the main town: car dealerships and mechanics, an organic pet food store, chain supermarkets too big to claim warehousing space in the town itself
Somewhere to the west, Luke can smell the sea and underneath that, the brown living scent of river water.
Like most coastal towns, there’s a main road going in lined with stores catering to tourists, surfers, and coffee drinkers, and another large one off of that which turns towards the beach. Luke spent a good few hours poring over maps and satellite images. He knows what this place looks like from the air, and he knows where Cal is supposed to be.
Off of the beach road is another road lined with townhouses overlooking the beach and the sea. Every house in that road belongs to Mason Reed – or rather to his pack – , as does much of the town.
Luke indicates the turnoff and Adam nods, turning the wheel.
Luke picks up the scent of alpha at the same time that a stocky, dark-haired man peels himself away from the shadows and waves down the van.
Adam slows and winds the window down.
“Morning,” the beta says cheerfully. He points towards a pair of cypress trees lining the beach path. “If you could park over there, please. Mason will be out in a minute.”
He and Luke exchange glances as Adam pulls into the indicated parking spot.
“This was our only option. You know that,” Adam says to Luke’s unspoken comment.
“I know.” Luke just wishes it had been a better one.
“So you’re clear what you’re going to be doing?” Adam says to Luke, even though they’ve gone over it a dozen times already.
“Yes,” Luke says. While Adam distracts Reed with the challenge and is cheered on by the Fosters and Warwicks, Luke and Gregor are going to find Cal and get him out of there.
Luke doesn’t like the plan. There are too many unknown variables. What if someone is guarding Cal? Or not guarding him. Maybe they’ll just come across one of Reed’s pack minding his own business? Are they meant to fight him too? What if he’s like Cal and doesn’t really want to be there either.
This is why Adam is the leader, Luke thinks. He didn’t even think about it. He just volunteered to challenge Reed as if it was no big deal at all.
The Warwick and Foster vans draw in behind them.
They get out and stand in the warm night air. It should be beautiful here. There’s very little light pollution. Luke can hear the waves from the beach in the background and the sea air makes the world seem fresh.
But all Luke can think is that this is Cal’s hell, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to get him out or join him in it.
LUKE
hedges and sandpits
Reed makes them wait. Of course, he does. Luke stands outside for almost an hour, a brother on either side of him. The Warwicks and Fosters sit on the sand on the beach and make small talk in low voices.
Luke spends the time watching the row of townhouses in front of him. Every now and then, there’ll be a rustle or movement behind the dark windows, and he knows that they are being watched as much as he is watching them.
The house that he thinks Cal is being held in is the middle of a row of eight. There are five floors to each of them, plus a small attic room right near the top of each. Three of the eight have bars on the attic windows.
There’s no movement that he can see from the attic rooms, but it’s dark. He wishes he could just see something: anything to let him know that Cal is alive and knows that Luke has come for him.
The houses are stunning architecture: iron mini-balconies and painted shutters against dark brick with windows that get bigger the lower down they get so that the main rooms look directly out onto the beach and sea.
In other circumstances, Luke would love to come here on vacation. Now, he wonders if Cal will ever want to visit the beach again. If that’s the cost of getting him back, Luke thinks it’ll be a small one.
At just past two am, Reed exits the townhouse directly in front him flanked by two alphas, one a tall dark-haired man that meets Eric’s description, the other a female alpha in wolf mode. Muscles roll under her skin as she walks and she keeps her teeth bared, yellow eyes darting from one member of the Aylewood packs to another as if daring them to start something.
Reed takes his time walking across the road, then casually puts his hand out to Adam to shake.
“Ah, the not-so-famous Adam Winterstoke,” he says. “I do thank you for coming all this way. Saves me coming to you. I assume you’ve put all the paperwork in order?”
“Yes,” Adam says simply.
Luke rustles in his backpack and passes the challenge papers to Reed who takes them with a wink. His stomach hurts. This is the first time Luke has ever had to prepare for a challenge. He’s checked every period and comma a thousand times, but a single flaw might let Reed kill them on a loophole.
Luke is sure there are no loopholes, or as sure as he can be.
Reed flicks through the papers idly then gestures to the dark-haired alpha for a pen.
“I should probably introduce you to my seconds,” he says, not looking up from the papers. “This is Eric and Jeannie. I’ll leave you to work out which is which.”
The yellow-eyed wolf growls and Reed chuckles. “Jeannie’s not that fond of challengers. Or at least not until dinner time.”
He bends, signing the paper against his thigh, then passes them back to Luke.
Luke lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Well then,” Reed says. “I’ve got a nice little arena round the back of the house for us to use. There’s not much space for spectators but we can probably fit your little crew in. You’ll have my word that I won’t kill them until we’re done if you prefer to leave them outside.”
Gregor growls at that and Reed gives him an amused look.
Adam shakes his head, “They all come in.”
None of them trust Reed. They’re all in or none. It occurs to Luke that they could kill Reed now. He’s outnumbered, but pack law doesn’t allow that. Nor would Adam for that matter.
Reed shrugs, “Fine with me either way. Come on, then.” He gestures over his shoulder as he walks away. He could be inviting them in for tea and cake.
“So,” Reed says casually. “How’s that little girl of yours doing?”
Adam grips Luke’s wrist tight. “Fine,” Luke says through gritted teeth. He’s so looking forward to seeing Adam rip Reed’s throat out.
He glances at the tall dark-haired alpha who he now knows is Eric. The man looks back, face completely impassive. Reed can’t know that Eric let Cal escape. He’s is not the type of man who would let that kind of betrayal go unpunished. Eric might be an ally.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Reed says, pushing the front door open to the middle townhouse.
The humble abode is nothing of the sort. Luke has no eye for these things but even he can tell that Reed has expensive tastes. The front doors open directly onto a foyer filled with thick rich materials, artfully placed urns and artwork that looks like pricey splashes of paint.
There are more alphas here – both human and wolf-shaped. All of them watch the Aylewood packs as they enter. A sudden frisson of fear dashes through Luke and he realizes it’s not just him. He can scent fear on everyone of the Aylewood wolves, even Gregor.
The only one who smells calm is Adam and Luke is beginning to think that might not be the sane option. Reed has a reputation for a reason.
They are not the first pack to walk through these doors looking for a challenge. Luke wonders how many packs walked back
out.
By the smug looks on the alphas lounging around watching them, the answer is not that many.
Reed draws them through the foyer and directly out the other side. As they walk, Beach River wolves peel themselves from the stairs and sofas, and from where they are leaning against the walls, to follow them.
There are fourteen Aylewood allied wolves in total: Luke, Adam, Gregor and Dan, along with five Fosters and five Warwicks.
They aren’t badly outnumbered, although it feels like it to Luke. If Adam beats Reed, are they even going to let them out? That’s the reason they are all there. If things go wrong, Adam is going to need the back up.
The garden behind the townhouse is as ostentatious as the inside, if not more so. For one thing, while the townhouses are separate inside as far as Luke can see, the outside is just one big merged garden.
It’s all hedges, stone paths, rose bushes, and more white statues than Luke has ever seen in one place. More than one of them is of Reed, and a Reed that is at least a foot taller than he is in real life and a lot more buff.
For some reason, that makes him feel a lot better. He glances over at Adam to see if he’s noticed. He definitely has. His older brother is biting his lip in the way he does when he’s trying not to laugh.
That’s his weak spot, Luke thinks. Go for the ego, bro.
But he can’t say anything to Adam, not out loud, but it turns out that Gregor is thinking the exact same thing because he says, “Lot of statues of you, Mason. Are you worried everyone’s going to forget what you look like?”
Luke only notices because he was looking for it, but there’s momentary flash of pure fury on Reed’s face before it disappears. The River Beach wolf ignores him.
That’s it, Luke thinks. There’s the famous rage. All Adam needs to do is tap into that and Reed will make a mistake.
He looks up again towards the townhouse and the windows at the top. There’s nothing visible from this side. If Cal is up there, he won’t be able to see what’s going on below.
Reed leads them down the paths towards a set of high green hedges at the back of the garden. Both River Beach and Aylewood packs follow silently as if they’re about to commence some kind of solemn ritual.
Perhaps we are, Luke thinks. Challenges are a millennia-old tradition and no matter how modern the Aylewoods want to be, they were never going to get out of them as long as wolf packs still thrive.
Luke glances at Eric and finds a measure of sympathy on his face.
He doesn’t think we can win, Luke thinks. Well, we can.
When Luke looks at Gregor and Dan, and the Warwicks and the Fosters, he sees nothing but tight determination to get through this despite the fear scents they are giving off.
There’s a good chance that none of them are going to live to dawn and they all know it. No one resents him or Cal for this, or the Winterstokes. They all knew the score the moment Adam called them and told them what had happened.
This had to happen sometime. The happy peaceful days of war-free pack life were never going to last forever.
Sooner or later, someone was going to test them and the moment word got out that the Aylewood packs had an omega stolen and hadn’t bothered to do anything about it or been too scared to challenge the person doing the stealing, that was the moment it was a free-for-all on all of them: Winterstokes, Fosters and Warwicks alike.
Luke knows that this isn’t about him and Cal, but he can’t help feeling like he’s the one leading them all to their doom anyway.
Reed stops in front of them, and everyone else stops with him, almost bumping into each other with the suddenness.
Reed had called it an arena, and Luke can’t think of a better word. Either that or ‘sandpit.’
It’s a small ten foot by ten area filled with white beach sand. There are no artificial lights: nothing but the moon and the stars. The sand is stained dark in places that Luke doesn’t want to look at too closely.
At least, there are no statues. There isn’t space for them.
The arena is surrounded by raised benches as if the spectators are doting parents at a baseball game. There is no way that each pack can keep their distance from the other. They are going to be rubbing up against enemy wolves simply by virtue of not being able to move anywhere else.
Beside him, Adam surveys the fighting arena with calm eyes. Luke’s stomach hurts with worry for his brother. Adam can’t be this relaxed. No one could be.
Reed steps into the arena and raises his hands to the dark sky.
“Usual rules apply,” he says, baring his teeth in what would be a smile on anyone else. “Anyone stepping into the arena is willing to fight. Loser forfeits his authority to the other.”
Adam begins to step forward, but Reed puts a single finger up. “Uh... one more rule. As host, I think it’s only fair that I make sure my pack is safe while I’m distracted. I wouldn’t want one of your wolves to go off and... steal one of my omegas.” Reed grins widely. “To come up with a completely random example, that is. One wolf to one wolf.”
The River Beach pack moves fast enough that it’s either well-rehearsed or they’ve done so many times that it’s a natural move for them.
They move between the Aylewood pack, one River Beach wolf beside one Aylewood wolf. The female wolf called Jeannie flanks Gregor, Eric takes Luke’s side, and the others all move into place.
Adam is the only Aylewood pack member left without a babysitter.
“You don’t object, do you?” Reed says casually. “Just a little one-to-one time to make sure everyone behaves.”
Adam nods just as casually. They’d known it wouldn’t be easy for Luke or any of the others to sneak away, but this has just made it that much harder.
Adam starts to step forward, but unexpectedly Gregor grabs his arm, and Adam shows the first flicker of worry since they left the packhouse what seems like a million years ago.
“Let me do it,” Gregor hisses. “For God’s sake, Adam, I’ve always been the bigger fighter. And the bigger wolf.”
“No,” Adam says simply, and the way he says it makes Luke’s stomach twist.
Reed laughs out loud. “Don’t worry, boy. You’ll get your chance once I’m done with your brother. Or both of them. Hey Papa Wolf, you always let your brothers do your fighting for you?”
Luke ignores him. Much as he’d like to get his teeth into Mason Reed, he’s only got one mission this evening: Cal.
Adam pats Gregor on the arm, his mouth tight and determined. He leans close to Gregor, close enough that Luke can hear him, “You’re our next line of defense. Don’t be an idiot.”
Adam stretches slowly, then bends down to take his shoes and socks off, placing them neatly at the side of the area, then folds his jacket on top of that.
Two long strides and he’s in the arena, at a cautious distance from Reed. The two men watch each other with caution.
Reed’s easy-going persona is still going, and Luke realizes that the man is enjoying himself. Before, he was playing to the crowds, but now with his focus purely on Adam, he’s showing the same pleasure in potential violence that he did back at the cabin.
Adam, on the other hand, displays nothing but grim determination.
Reed steps forward, eyes still on Adam’s, a small smile on his thin lips. Adam steps back and Luke’s stomach flips.
“Let’s see how fast I can take you down, shall we?” Reed says, still smiling.
Adam shrugs as if he’s really not that bothered.
Reed makes his move. He shifts lightning fast and launches himself at Adam. Luke feels the breath catch in his throat.
That’s when something warm and metallic presses against Luke’s hand. He looks down and sees a small key.
Behind him, Eric leans forward. His words are little more than a puff of warm breath against Luke’s ear, “Go now.”
In front of him, Adam has shifted too, and the two great wolves are biting and snapping, and trying to pin each other down. Whenever Luke think
s one of them has gained an advantage, the other flips him over.
No one is paying any attention to Luke. He clutches the key in his wrist and goes.
CAL
marble floors and nailed down shutters
There’s something going on outside. Cal can smell it. It smells like another pack destruction. He knows the pattern by now: hushed excited whispers, feet on the stairs, then silence as they leave the townhouse and assemble at the arena taking the scents of bloodlust and testosterone with them.
And then afterwards, there’ll be the overwhelming stench of blood and Reed will be high with victory.
Please don’t let it be Luke, he thinks. Anyone but the Winterstokes. And he feels a flash of despair at wishing for destruction on some hapless stranger. Still he’ll take it. Anyone but Luke.
Vans had arrived earlier. Cal’d heard them, but Reed had nailed the shutters closed on the windows two days ago.
At the time, Cal thought it was some kind of punishment but now if he wonders if it was a way to keep Cal both literally and figuratively in the dark.
All he can do is sit in the attic room and strain his ears even though they pick up almost nothing from the street outside.
The house itself has been deadly quiet now for almost thirty minutes. The only exceptions are the occasional rustle from Ben in the room next door as he shifts in his bed.
Cal hasn’t seen him since that first day, although he’s tried to whisper under the door. If Ben heard him, he hasn’t let on.
Cal is alone and isolated, just the way Reed likes it.
He’s sitting on the wooden floorboards, ears straining, when he hears the scuff of a boot on the marble floors at the bottom of the house.
It’s faint and hardly audible, but there’s someone down there.
It could be one of Reed’s pack back for something, but that’s unlikely. Reed has always insisted on having every alpha in attendance when he fights challengers. It’s as much as show for the River Beach wolves as the people he’s fighting.
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