Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1)

by Taryn Noelle Kloeden

  Bayne agreed. It was a good plan–the best strategy for what lay ahead. But it was also deeply flawed. Their plans could go awry in many ways. Their success depended on eliminating every one of the Da’ Gammorn. The archers and the traps would destroy hundreds, Bayne was sure, but would they get them all? Maybe given enough time they could, but to buy time they needed numbers, and that they did not have. Bayne's only hope was that the Alvornians would come, but he had no way of knowing if Gar had survived his journey, nor did he know how Pheros would react if the True Wolf had. So much was left to chance.

  “Alpha Bayne? Did you hear me?” Serine’s voice cut into Bayne’s drifting thoughts.

  “No, I'm sorry, Alphena.”

  “Where will we send the pups and elders? The True Wolf dens?”

  Bayne considered that as Silver’s hand wound into his. “No. The traitor Nero will have told Rhael where the dens are. We’ll hide them elsewhere—the caves near the sea, perhaps. That way they can retreat to Alvorn if we fail to push back the Maenorens.”

  “Nero will smell out the pups and elders if we hide them somewhere else. He’ll lead the Overlord straight to them,” said Arlo.

  “Not if Nero dies in battle,” Roxen spoke for the first time. “And he will.”

  “Lad, I know you’re keen to gut the rat for what he did to your mother, but you can’t be sure–”

  “He will.” Roxen’s eyes transitioned to a wolf's, and he repeated his sentiment in a growl. He will die.

  Silver cleared her throat to break the resulting silence. “Killing Nero will be a priority. Then, even if we fall, our families have a chance of surviving and escaping Rhael’s wrath.”

  “That is,” grunted Cadmen, “if General Pheros allows them through his precious border.”

  “General Pheros is Alvornian. Despite any political differences, his code would not allow him to turn away elders and children in need.” Bayne spoke with more confidence than he felt. Before he could continue, though, a yip sounded from outside the den.

  Alpha Bayne, Alphena Silver! May I come in?

  Bayne and Silver exchanged a perplexed glance before Bayne barked, Of course.

  Ash pushed through the den’s entrance, pupils dilated, panting with exertion. He glanced around the packed den, lowering his ears. I’m sorry to interrupt, but Pike and I found a Maenoren north of the site.

  What? Arlo stood. The other Den Alphen mirrored him as Seperun crossed to Silver’s side. Silver translated the True Wolf’s words in a whisper.

  Bring him in here, Bayne commanded.

  Ash bowed and left. The leaders broke into a frenzied discussion, and a few heartbeats later Ash returned with Pike towing a terrified Maenoren boy by the edge of his golden cape. The wolves bowed to each of the leaders and backed out of the den.

  The Maenoren fell to his knees. “Please don’t kill me! Don’t eat me, please! I come in peace!” He waved a dried scrap of lavender, missing half of its flowers, over his head. It was an old custom, signaling an unarmed messenger.

  “Aye. You come in peace.” Bayne snatched the herb from the boy’s trembling hand, crumbling it. “As Rhael Demetrian came in peace when he stole my niece and made me believe she was dead?”

  “But,” the boy’s confusion outweighed his fear for a brief moment, “Rayna Myana is dead, sir. She betrayed the Overlord, broke the treaty, and was executed for her crimes.” He clapped his hand over his mouth as Bayne extended his teeth and claws.

  “Her crimes?” Bayne roared as he launched himself at the Maenoren. Silver and Seperun gripped his arms, pulling him back. The boy dissolved into sobs, and the pungent tang of urine mixed with the smoky scent of the den. “Which crimes would those be? Trying to end a war? Giving up her life for a chance at peace?”

  “Bayne.” Silver slid her palm over Bayne's chest. “If the boy has a message, we must hear it.”

  “Speak your piece, shadow-stalker.” Arlo grimaced as he forced the Maenoren onto his feet.

  “I-I have a message.”

  “That we know. Speak while you still can,” said Serine.

  He flinched. “Lord Rhael requests a meeting. He will be at the mulberry grove north of here at sunset. He requests to see you, Alpha Bayne and…”

  “And?” Bayne prompted as Seperun and Silver released him.

  “And he asks to see the…the treacherous worm known as Markus Seperun.”

  Bayne glanced back at the Maenoren turn-cloak. Seperun’s black brows had risen, but they dropped back as he grinned. “Important enough to be requested by name. It is an honor.”

  Bayne turned back to the messenger. “Why? What does Rhael hope to gain from meeting with us? We know better than to trust his word.”

  “He intends to offer terms, sir. It is customary to give your enemy the opportunity to surrender.”

  “There is nothing that gives your Overlord greater pleasure than using what is customary to his advantage. I will not see him. Go and tell him that before I change my mind and kill you.”

  The Maenoren shuffled toward the exit. “Lord Rhael said you might respond this way. He bade me to remind you that if terms are not decided, he will be within his rights to slaughter each of your kind. Meet with him, and you may yet save some of your people.”

  Bayne cast his gaze upon each of his allies. Their faces reflected his doubt. “Wait.” He gripped the Maenoren by the shoulder. “Tell him I’ll be there.” He looked to Seperun, who nodded. “We’ll both be there.”

  The boy squeaked his understanding before sprinting from the den.

  “Rox, have Ash and Pike follow him until he is well north of the site.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Roxen slid past the others and exited the den.

  “Even if you do meet with him,” Arlo began, “there’s no believing him. He can promise mercy, but as you said, we know better.”

  “Arlo’s right, love. Why even consider this? It could be a trap.” Silver’s voice was cool, but her grip on Bayne’s shirt tightened.

  Bayne covered her hand with his. “More than likely it is, but we may still gain something useful from meeting with him—like agreeing the battle will take place at the valley. I won’t let my fear stand in the way of that.”

  “Nor will I,” said Seperun. “Besides, I think the time for Rhael’s tricks have passed. He is a man of action, of violence. He played his games with Rayna, because he needed Terayan’s help to raise the Da’ Gammorn. But Rhael has every advantage now. He will want to defeat us on the field and bask in its bloody glory. That is the kind of man he is. I believe Rhael truly does want to discuss terms, even gloat. He is that kind of man.”

  “Then I’m coming too.” Silver’s tone invited no argument, but Bayne pressed one anyway.

  “No, Silver. This could be a trap. We must not risk more than we need. Seperun and I go alone.”

  “Bayne–”

  “Please, dove.” He turned the other Alphen. “If Rhael betrays us again, I count on you all to lead our people. Lead them to victory if you can, or to our doom if you must. Just take as many of the Maenorens with you as you can.”

  “That won’t be a problem, Alpha Bayne.” Cadmen flexed his biceps with a wolfish grin.

  Silver needed more convincing than the others, but eventually she too relented. Once the sun had traveled to its highest point, Bayne and Seperun journeyed to the mulberry groves four leagues north of the Densite. Halfway through their trek, they passed the valley where they intended to fight. It was quiet, and the light mix of ash and snow coating the ground gave no hint of the dangers lurking beneath it.

  “Alpha Bayne.” Seperun’s garnet red robes trailed the ground, catching the occasional twig. Bayne had offered him Fenearen clothing, but the Resistance leader had politely refused.

  “Yes, Seperun?”

  “What kind of useful information do you hope for from this meeting? I ask only so I know on where you would like my attention.”

  Bayne pulled back an overhanging pine bough so Seperun could
pass. “I’m hoping to take his measure, get a sense of his confidence–or of any surprises he may have planned. If I’m being honest, I wanted to see him again before the battle. The last time I set eyes upon Rhael Demetrian, I had, gods help me, nearly grown to trust him–or at least trust in his own self-interest enough to let him walk away with my niece on his arm. Letting him take her was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I want to see him again, look into his treacherous face, and perhaps believe I may be the one to end him.” Bayne had not meant to say so much, but Seperun was easy to talk to.

  “Are you harboring some hope that he may have an idea of where Rayna went after she left Maenor?”

  Bayne sighed. “I suppose so. Though, it would not bode well for her if he does. Does such hope make me a fool, Seperun?”

  “Perhaps, but we are all fools when it comes to those that we love most.” He clasped a hand on Bayne’s shoulder, and they walked in silence for another league. Bayne led them off the trail toward the designated grove. The smoke was heavier here, and when they crested a hill, they caught sight of a line of fires in the distance. The Maenorens had cut down hundreds of trees, and the view was clearer than most in Fenear. The Maenoren camp was five leagues distant, if that. Bayne turned from the horrific sight toward the scent of mulberry bark. Two other scents, as familiar as they were revolting, broke through the smoke: Rhael and Nero. Bayne gritted his teeth but kept his claws sheathed as he and Seperun approached the grove.

  Rhael stood in the center of the natural orchard, his hand outstretched, examining the branches of the closest tree. It was near sunset, and a dull orange light filtered through the wood, glinting like sparks off the Overlord’s shining black breastplate. He was in full armor, but carried no weapons that Bayne could see. Not that he would need them, if it came to that. A few tail-lengths behind him, Nero leaned against another tree, arms crossed and expression sullen. When his too-pale amber eyes found Bayne, a toothy smile overtook his scarred face.

  “I told him you wouldn’t come, that you weren’t that stupid, but it seems I was wrong.”

  “Mind your manners, Commander Geddeont.” Rhael did not look away from the mulberry tree that seemed to fascinate him. “We’re here in an official capacity, after all.” He dropped his hand and turned toward Bayne and Seperun with a flourishing bow. “Alpha Bayne, how good of you to come. You brought the refuse I requested. Thank you.”

  Bayne exhaled through his clenched teeth. “What are we doing here, Rhael? No more games or jokes, or we leave.”

  Rhael gestured to the leafless mulberry trees. “I thought this might be an appropriate meeting place. I took note of it last time I was in your country. Did you know Maenorens are famous for our mulberry wine? This little grove could be the start of a new plantation. It won’t be the right season for months, but it's never too early to plan.”

  “Is that why you called us here? To make japes and intimidate us, Lord Rhael?” Seperun addressed the Overlord in a voice Bayne had never heard from him. It was cold and so detached that the words seemed to form in the air in front of Seperun, rather than come from the man himself.

  “I do not recall addressing you, vermin,” Rhael said as Nero sauntered to his side, “but since you insist on speaking, I do have some information that might be of interest to you.”

  “By all means, Overlord, please share.”

  Bayne’s hands shook with the strain of preventing himself from tearing out Nero’s throat. If he did, Rhael would surely kill him and Seperun, and then Silver and his pack would be two warriors fewer thanks to his lack of restraint.

  “Am I correct in assuming you are the leader of this so-called Resistance, these cowards who deserted my army to join with the Fenearen savages?” Rhael’s black and gold eyes burned into Seperun with such intensity, Bayne half-expected his friend to burst into flames.

  “You are.”

  “Then allow me to be clear, Seperun. Every one of my men who have betrayed me have signed their own execution warrants. This is not up for debate. Nor is the manner of your deaths. I will attend to that personally, at least for those of you who survive the coming battle.”

  “Is there a point to your menacing, Lord Rhael?”

  “There is. Your own deaths are not negotiable, but those of your friends, family, wives, husbands, and children… Well, I prefer not to butcher my own people, Seperun, unless pushed to it. If you and your traitorous companions lay down all arms, then I may consider letting your loved ones live. Or at the very least, giving them a quick death.”

  No sweat could be seen on Seperun’s dark, well-lined brow. “We knew the risks when we turned against you, Rhael. All of us. Nothing you say will stop me from aiding the Fenearens and doing everything in my power to ensure the Demetrian line ends with you.”

  “Are you certain? I have the name of every man who deserted my camp, I have sent word to my forces in Anhorde, and I suspect by now most of your traitors’ families are in my custody. One word from me, and they all die screaming.”

  “We knew the risks,” Seperun repeated, “all of us.”

  Bayne could not contain his growl. “I had thought you had stooped as low as a man could, but you have proven me wrong. Threatening innocent civilians, your own people! There is no one in Osterna or Hell itself as vile as you, Rhael Demetrian.”

  Rhael chuckled, but beside him, Nero doubled with the force of his laughter. “I’d forgotten what a self-righteous prig you were, Bayne. You’re telling me that if I’d had a mate or a whelp, you wouldn’t have used them against me after I tore out that hag’s throat?”

  “No, Nero,” Bayne snapped. “Unlike you, I follow our code. Fenearens never kill except to live. We don’t murder innocents out of revenge, and,” he turned to Rhael, “we don’t taunt our prey before we pounce. Say what you came here to say, Rhael. Do what you intend to do. As my friend Seperun said, we know the risks.”

  “Friend?” Nero spat. “You develop a taste for treachery when it benefits you, Bayne.”

  “Seperun may have turned against Rhael, but he did it for his country, to save his people from the snake that’s strangling them. You turned against your pack for yourself.”

  “My pack? Who did I turn against? The man who stole what should have been mine. The boy that took my place, the bitch–”

  Bayne’s snarl drowned out Nero’s hateful words. Only the pressure of Seperun’s hand on Bayne’s wrist kept him from flying at Nero.

  “Don’t you like it when I speak of Silver that way? You’re being over-protective. She always hated that about you, you know. How is she by the way?” Nero scratched his mutilated ear. “Did you know she saved my life after you left me bleeding to death in the woods? She just couldn’t let me die. Even brought me to Thera. I thought the guilt might have driven her mad by now.”

  “Enough of this.” Bayne tore his gaze from Nero to Rhael. “Your messenger said you wished to discuss terms.”

  “Yes,” said Rhael. “Surrender now, and I’ll let your children and elders live. They’ll be sold to the highest bidder, but they will be breathing.”

  “Slavery is death for my kind. I will never agree to that.”

  “I know, but decorum dictates I must give you the chance.” Rhael smoothed his gloved hands across his vambraces.

  “Well, decorum has been satisfied. If that is all–”

  “I am surprised, Alpha Bayne. When last we met, all you could speak of was your love for your niece, yet you have not asked about her once. I would have thought you would want the details of her death.”

  “I want none of your lies, Rhael,” growled Bayne.

  “You don’t want to know how she wailed when I damned that pathetic lover of hers to Hell? How she cried herself to sleep every night, hoping you would save her? Not even how I killed her?”

  Seperun tightened his grip on Bayne’s wrist, pulling him back from Rhael. “We both know that is a lie, Rhael Demetrian,” said Seperun. “Coer Vantergard ensured Rayna Myana escaped your clutches
. She left Maenor alive.”

  “So what if she did?” Rhael sneered. “How do you know I didn’t get her back?”

  “If you had, the Resistance would have known,” Bayne snapped. “Despite all your deception and cruelty, my niece escaped you.”

  “Perhaps, but what a hollow victory it will be for her when she returns to find her family in pieces and her home razed to the ground.”

  Despite Rhael's hostile intention, Bayne’s heart jumped into his throat. Rhael as good as confirmed Seperun’s story. Rayna was alive.

  “Trees grow back,” said Bayne. “You can burn our land, kill us, but you can never destroy us. We are beloved of Lumae and Wolnor. We are a pack united across any divide—including death. Rayna and all our people know this. There will come a day when you do, too.”

  This time, both Nero and Rhael doubled over with their laughter. Rhael wiped a tear from one of his terrible black and gold eyes. “That is your great threat? That Rayna Myana, a woman, a child, will carry on? I knew you were under stress Bayne, but this is embarrassing.”

  “You have always underestimated women, children, and anyone you believed beneath you, Lord Rhael,” said Seperun. “This will be your undoing.”

  “Forgive me for not shaking in my boots. I think we’re done here. At sunrise in five days, I will see you both again for the last time. There is a valley just north of your settlement, shall we agree to this field?”

  Bayne hid the frisson of excitement that shot through his veins. Rhael had chosen as they had expected. “Sunrise five days hence. We’ll be there.”

  “Enjoy your final days on this plane, then, Alpha Bayne. When I see you next, you shall either be a corpse or about to become one.”

  Rhael strode into the smoky forest. Nero watched him go before turning back to Bayne.

  “How’s Roxen?”

  “Looking forward to killing you.”

  Nero grinned, winked, and followed his master.