by T. A. Grey
Chaos erupted. Guards shoved Alex down to the floor and pushed Hanna down next to him. She fought but bruising grips coerced her. She had no choice.
Then, she froze in terror. A large man with a double-bladed axe, the weapon huge. Hanna had never laid eyes on anything like it. He was the executioner. Bare of chest, he was large and muscular, a spattering of black hair across his bulging torso. A black mask obscured his face but showed his eyes. Clear and Blue.
She and Alex locked eyes and shared a moment where time slowed. They seemed to say to one another I can’t believe this is happening. Hanna’s heart made a strange flip as she looked at him. He’d saved her life, and now her actions were killing them both.
“Take his head.” The queen’s order rang throughout the room. A command.
A shudder passed through Hanna, shaking her to the bone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Alex.
He only shook his head once. A sad gesture that broke her heart. She sobbed before hanging her head, ready to await her fate.
The slide of metal, the sound of the air whooshing as the executioner swung his double-sided axe high in the air. He held it poised, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.
I will be splattered with his blood before I die. And then he with mine.
Such idle thoughts began filling her mind. Of all things.
Massive biceps bulging under the great weight of the axe, the staff of which stood nearly as tall as its wielder. Ancient craftsmanship in an age with guns made the whole scenario even wilder.
Will they bury me here or will they send my body back home to my family?
The executioner stayed his hand. Everyone in the great hall held their breath. The queen stood, breathless with anticipation above them all.
She raised her hand, a salute to the heavens and gave her final blessing. “Finish him.”
The blade swung down in a slow-moving arc.
Hanna’s gaze stared at the weapon, transfixed by the sight. Alex didn’t struggle--much. But his body jerked, fought to pull out from his chained hold. Snarls and growls tearing from his throat like a lion striving to break free from its cage.
A cadence interrupted the whole ordeal. A repetitious banging. Like that of a gong. At once, almost as if choreographed in unison, everyone in the room turned to look. Everyone including the executioner.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The ringing sound echoed until silence permeated the air.
“What is going on here?” the queen screeched at the interruption.
A man, thin and wearing the Gerioux regalia rushed into the great room, pale of face and nervously wringing his hands. “M-m-my queen. There is s-s-s-someone at the door.”
Her lip curled into a sneer. “Who is it?”
A troop marched rapidly behind the guard, who peaked over his shoulder and yelped at the incoming entourage.
The queen spotted the hostiles, eyes flaring. “Stop them!”
Hanna tried to see above the wall of towering bodies, but her chains and locked position kept her from seeing who was there. Who could cause all this chaos?
A voice rang out, deep and masculine with an edge of harshness. Hanna shook her head at first unsure she heard correctly.
“I don’t think so, Lysette Gerioux. I am Gavin MacKellen, Alpha of the MacKellen pack. And I am here for my sister.”
Gasps heard ‘round the room. The sea of faces parted until, finally, Hanna saw him. She cried out in joy at the sight of her brother’s scarred, handsome face. And she nearly screamed with joy at the sight of her big strong cousin Jo and her brother Hart.
They were here to save her and Alex. Their saviors.
Until the queen responded with a resounding denial.
“I don’t think so, alpha.”
Chapter NINE
What the hell had happened to Hanna?
Jo MacKellen stood next to his cousins, Gavin and Hart, two very worried brothers about now. They’d learned something was wrong when Hanna never returned last night and all attempts to contact Alex had failed.
Where were they? Gavin had asked. His tone harsh and forceful, having already realized something must be wrong when Hanna never returned. Now it was time to fix it, to figure it out, to do whatever was necessary. As Gavin always did for those he loved...for his pack.
All connections to either Hanna or Alex had been lost. Gavin had wanted to head out immediately to search for her--so they did. Jo insisted on coming as well. He’d heard strange rumors about the French-Canadian queen of the Gerioux pack. And, admittedly, he was curious. Curious to see what she looked like. A woman like that...she was like a celebrity in the lykaen world. Her story infamous, revered by women and stalwart males.
She was beloved by her pack, and when her mate died, she’d fought for position as alpha of the pack. Her cunning may be her greatest strength, Jo figured. That or her beauty as everyone else seemed to fawn over. But as Jo gazed upon her form, he didn’t feel those stirrings inside him. Of course, he never had over something as trivial as beauty. Beauty was false. Beauty could be manipulated and obtained. Beauty was not true. At least, not to him.
He’d never understood why men often jumped to attention for some pretty woman’s attention. Why? Why did it matter if she had a nice face or a good-looking body? Jo shrugged, not caring a wink. Sure, the queen’s appearance wasn’t unsightly. She was pretty enough. Perhaps more attractive than the average woman. But that did not sway his opinions of her in the least. How some men could let a woman’s face get to them--he would never understand.
Others didn’t understand his lack of interest in beautiful women. After all, his friends would rib him saying he was a good-looking fella himself. He should be with a hottie.
Jo’s mouth formed a pinched expression of distaste. Like eating old milk. Nothing made his mouth taste sour quite like that kind of shallow talk. And, on top of all that, he didn’t feel how he did out of some moral superiority. Fuck that bullshit. He thought how he thought because it was logical. It was correct. It was right. A woman’s looks did not sway him and never would. No matter how beautiful or how sexy. He simply didn’t care.
But try explaining that one to the boys. The men in his life had never understood why he wasn’t constantly banging some random woman. As if all of his life’s achievements were based off his dick and how much he could shoot from it. Ridiculous. Then, if he did try to explain that he didn’t care about women’s looks because he had no real interest in it, men would look at him like he had grown four arms. Just thinking about it made his eye tick. Really, they couldn’t grasp it. How was he, a fully-grown, healthy-built male not banging every single woman who looked at him?
Easily really.
He truly did not care. He had better shit to do in his life. When, and if, the right woman came along, he’d know it.
It’s not that he never have sex, but he didn’t need it in his life. Maybe he wasn’t a sexual creature. Who knew? It’d been some time since he was with a woman. The last time was with a girl whom he’d managed to care for. See, the guys, his friends and fellow soldiers who trained alongside him, just couldn’t get it. That he, perhaps, needed something else than mere beauty to interest him. Beauty meant nothing. It was nothing. A dying characteristic. After all, a rose cannot stay in full, healthy bloom forever. It must die one day. However, the stem may stay sturdy and strong through rose’s whole lifespan. That, to Jo MacKellen, was far more interesting than a pretty bud.
The queen stood on her white marble dais wearing a gown of jewels which glittered like diamonds. “Remove everyone from this room not having to do with the death of my Remi. Now!”
At her command guards rushed to usher the Gerioux pack members out of the hall. Jo cocked a brow and shared a brief glance with Hart and Gavin.
Remi had been Hanna’s’ date for last night. Now he was dead?
This was the first he’d heard of it.
Fuck.
This was not good. Not good at all.
When
the room was emptied, the queen closed in on them, walking down the marble steps in a pair of ruby red heels. For whatever reason, her gaze stayed locked with his. Even stranger, she approached him straight off.
Jo stood where he was, arms crossed over his chest. He had to look down to see her, though she was tall for a woman. Maybe five-seven, five-foot eight inches tall. Her eyes were rather bright, he noticed. His being a dull color. No one ever compliment his eyes, not once in his whole life. Not that he was searching for flattery. But, in comparison, the queen had eyes that others would complement. They made you take notice. A bright flash of color that couldn’t be missed. In fact, had to be noticed by anyone, except maybe the blind.
“Who do you think you are?” she bit out. “Coming here into my pack, into my territory after the atrocities committed on my land? How dare you come here? How dare you insult me like this?” Her lip quivered in a sneer.
So much rage, he thought. It was almost...interesting to watch the flush fill the apples of her cheeks, to see her hair whipping around her quick head movements. She was so animated. Like a child running around with bristling energy needing to be spent.
And she was entirely wrong.
Jo held up his hand, halting her mid-speech. Her jaw fell open in astonishment. Now that he had her attention, he spoke.
“I’m Jo MacKellen and I dare to come here to retrieve Hanna MacKellen and Alex Thompson.” Her eyes registered shock. At the last second he added, “And to mourn the unfortunate loss of Remi Gerioux.”
She sneered up at him, lip curling like a rabid dog’s. “You are not Gavin MacKellen? The Alpha? Then which one of you insulting bastards is?”
Jo looked left, Hart to his righ, and then all eyes were on Gavin MacKellen.
Chapter TEN
“It’s been decided.”
The familiar voice woke Hanna from her fitful slumber. She rubbed her scratchy, dry eyes but all that did was make her vision blurry.
She’d been put back in her cage. Alex was locked in the attached cell next to her. If they wanted to, they could reach through the bars and hold hands.
Awww, how cute--not.
They were awaiting the decisions of the negations happening between Gavin and the queen.
Hanna felt dismal. Dreadful.
Her cousin Jo stood outside her cage, looking more irritated than she could ever remember seeing him.
“What’s going on?” she asked. A soft snore drifted up from Alex’s cell. How could the man sleep at a time like this? Of course, he had taken a rather bloody beating.
“Thompson, wake up!” Jo snapped.
Alex snapped awake, then groaned and began rubbing his back, likely sore from sleeping on the concrete ground.
“Good. Now that you’re both awake, we have to talk. We’ve got a few things sorted out with the Gerioux pack, and a few other things...not so much.”
Hanna grabbed the silver bars separating her from Jo, then quickly retracted her grip when the silver began to singe her hands. “What’s going on?” She rubbed her burnt hands on her thighs.
Sighing, Jo scraped his hand over the back of his head. “It looks like you’re going to be here for a while.”
“What?” Hanna’s stomach plummeted.
“Negotiations are still taking place but for now we’ve settled on her not killing either of you--yet.”
Yet.
She could still die. Hanna looked over at Alex who’d slumped one arm up on the cage and was leaning heavily against it. He didn’t seem to mind the silver.
“Fucking great,” he said dryly, scratching his stomach.
She snickered. Unable to help stop from chuckling at least some at their situation. Alex’s tired eyes met hers and they shared a wry grin over their unfortunate circumstances.
“She’s ordered Gavin and Hart off the land.”
“What?” This time the hostile question came from Alex, not her.
Jo rolled his eyes. “She--Lysette--is really pissed off. I don’t think she’s taken to Gavin or Hart for that matter.”
“But not you?” Hanna asked.
Red colored his face, just a touch. Enough for Hanna to notice. “She’s agreed to let me be the medium in this difficult time. She’s also agreed to let you both live--for now, but she wants blood. One of yours. She think it’s only fair since you killed Remi.”
“It was an accident, Jo,” Hanna explained. Feeling emotionally drained down to her bones. She was dogged tired, exhausted. “He hit his head on that rock. I don’t know if anything we did actually caused that.” She bit her lip as she recalled pummeling him in the face right before Alex did the same, and he was much, much stronger than she was.
“He’s still dead. Justice needs to be had. Or at least that’s how Lysette sees it.”
Hanna shook her head. “Why do you keep calling her by first name like you two are good friends?”
The big muscles in his hulking shoulder bunched as he moved uncomfortably for a moment. Something only she would notice having known Jo all her life.
“She seems to get off on this power trip. I refuse to call her ‘queen’ like she insists. So I use her name.”
“To piss her off?” Alex asked, grinning.
“Nah, not really. But it takes away some of the air beneath her wings, so to speak. She is just another lykaen. Maybe one with a touch more power than normal folk, but I think it does her well to remember she’s only a lykaen just like us.”
“I see,” Hanna said. “So where does that leave us?”
“As slaves,” Jo replied.
Hanna felt her heart sink, like a black hole in her chest. She could feel her life, her goals, her motivations all-seeping out, leaving her barren. Empty. Her life would never be the same now. She could see it, feel it, with utter clarity. And it was terrifying.
“Could you be more specific?” she asked bitterly.
“Until we come to an agreement she’s commanded you to work for her. As slaves essentially.”
“What kind of agreement?” Alex asked. “You know I don’t really care for letting other people handle my businesses. I’m the one who killed Remi. I’ve already told the queen that.”
“I know,” Jo said. “She wants your head for it, but she isn’t eager to believe Hanna’s story either. What we’ve agreed on is that you’ll work for her until we can reach an agreement.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Hanna asked.
“Me and Lysette.”
“Soo, let me get this straight,” began Hanna. “Gavin and Hart get to go home and Alex and I have to stay here in this horribly cold place to play slaves until the queen decides when she wants to kill us. Because that’s exactly what she wants to happen. And that’s exactly what will happen unless we get out of here. We need to escape.” Her wild gaze found Alex’s tired expression. He didn’t look ready to escape. He looked ready to pass out.
“She’s agreed to give you some accommodations as sister to the alpha of the pack. I will work with her to get you out of here, Hanna. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She felt tears mist her eyes. “But...what about Alex?”
Jo didn’t look at Alex, did not acknowledge him. “I’ll do my best for him.”
Her heart broke. A piece actually chunking off. She pressed her hand to her chest, breathing deeply past the pain.
This is my fault.
She looked at Alex, shaking her head, and said the only thing she could. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”
He merely shrugged. Like he didn’t really care. Or maybe he’d been in worse situations than this. Though she couldn’t believe that.
Jo continued. “They will be giving you a better room. I don’t yet know all the details. I think you’ll be put together. Lysette’s been adamant about you two being under strict guard. She’s afraid you’ll try to escape. Out here in the wilderness, if the cold didn’t kill you, then her guards would. They train in this kind of weather and tracking is quite easy when you leave a trail of snow
behind you.”
There went her short-lived plans for escape. Not to mention how slow they’d move across the snowy terrain. They’d never have a chance.
Wait.
Hanna shook her head to clear it. What kind of negative, defeatist talk was that? Screw that. She wasn’t going to stay here to be slaughtered animals, like pigs. And she certainly wasn’t going to let them hurt Alex for her crimes. She would fix this. She had no idea how, but she was a MacKellen. And if there was anything they did--it was fight until their dying breath.
Chapter ELEVEN
Cuffed with silver, biting handcuffs, Hanna and Alex followed a team of guards to their new cell.
“We’ve made some negotiations. You’ll be allowed to stay in a more pleasant room than the dungeons.” The guard chuckled, a gruff, throaty sound. “For now. Make any mistakes and your cozy little pad here will be gone faster than you can blink. Remember, you only got this room because of your brother’s negotiations. He’s already paid a steep price for it. He had to give up a pretty big trade to get you out of that dungeon. I heard it was a quarter mill.”
Hanna looked at the man who oddly wore his hair in a bun-style on top of his head. He must have a lot of hair and it looked thick and well kept, nice even. The other guards looked up to him and called him Broderick.
Broderick unlocked a door with a skeleton key, which he slipped back into his jacket pocket. “The queen bartered with your brother Gavin. He wanted you both in a safe and secure sleeping arrangement. Queen Lysette agreed to the sleeping arrangements only after Gavin and Hart agreed to return home. They’ll finish their talks via telephone and email. Modern day negotiations, I guess,” he said with a shrug. “That and Jo, your cousin I believe? He’s been tasked to stay here as an intermediary. I think she’s intrigued by him.”
Hanna did a double take. “The queens intrigued by Jo? My cousin Jo?” Surely she couldn’t have heard that right. Jo didn’t date. In fact he’d never showed much of an interest in women, not that he swung the other way. Jo was all man and definitely his eyes might roam a female’s body on occasion but Jo had never cared much. He preferred to work and be useful. He was the kind of guy who’d wait until his dying day for the right woman to fall into his lap.