Shifters After Dark Box Set: (6-Book Bundle)

by SM Reine

  The men and women around him raised their swords with cries of lust.

  Lord Arnkell turned back to Aein. “And you my dear? There is a pack of unharnessed werewolves coming for you right now. I told those traitors you would be here. I told them to come and find you, that you, my pretty warrior-girl, would have a cure for them. We shall just leave you here until the dawn, for before sunrise, my girl, you shall feed their pretty bellies.” He turned back to his crew. “A fitting end for the traitor who brought the curse down upon us!”

  Aein struggled against her ropes and screamed out, but the gag muffled her voice.

  She watched Lord Arnkell’s men take her two horses. They dumped out her supplies, taking her weapons and armor. They took her hatchet for cutting wood. They took her bedroll. They took everything—everything except for the berries hidden between her cleavage. And then she saw something which made her heart stop. She had missed one of the berries. One of Lord Arnkell’s men dumped her bags and picked it up. Like a joke, he threw it up in the air and caught it in his mouth, chewing it happily.

  They would know, she realized. The moment he changed into a werewolf, he would know something was different and he would think back upon everything for some clue. They would know. They would figure it out. They would come back.

  She struggled again, but no one paid her any attention. With laughs and jeers, Lord Arnkell’s army faded into the darkness beyond the light of the campfire. But before he left, Lord Arnkell looked back at her with pure hatred dripping from his eyes. Quietly, so that no one else would hear, he said, “I told you I knew everything.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  She struggled against her bonds as her mind raced. There were wild werewolves on the way.

  She looked up at the stars and prayed to the gods that something would save her, that somehow she would escape. But there was nothing. Only silence as Lord Arnkell disappeared into the night. Only the crackling pop of her dying fire. Only the whisper of a cricket singing his lonely song.

  And then she heard the baying dogs in the distance. They would be upon her at any moment. She struggled again, but the ropes were too tight. She screamed and strained against them, but it was futile. She hung her head forward and began to cry in fear and frustration. She looked back up again. No, she would meet this death bravely. She would face it unflinching.

  And then she felt the ropes begin to move. She looked behind her. Finn! It was Finn! She would have cried his name aloud, but the gag in her mouth prevented her.

  The ropes fell and he pulled her away, leaving her to remove the gag as they ran. There was a shallow river and Aein and Finn splashed through. The sound of the dogs still followed after.

  “Lars is leading the group upstream. Remember, we only need to stay ahead of the werewolves until the dawn.”

  “They took my sword. I cannot protect anyone,” Aein said.

  Finn looked back and gave her a sparkling grin full of life. “Then we run.”

  And so they did. Upstream through the water. She could not imagine that the sound of them splashing through would not alert the dogs which direction to head. Then Finn grabbed her arm and hauled her up the bank. She slid in the mud, desperately trying to find a toe-hold. It almost seemed as if Finn’s strength as an animal was beginning to bleed into his strength as a man. He did not seem to tire. He pulled her up behind him like she weighed nothing. In the far distance, there was the sound of footsteps hitting the water, the sound of baying.

  Aein froze. Surely there was a tree they could climb. A defensible embankment. A hovel hole. Somewhere they could hide.

  “Run,” instructed Finn again.

  And that was all she needed to tear on after him. This time they remained wordless, trying to put as much distance between them and the river. Finn pushed Aein one direction as he ran the other so that their paths parted and then met up again farther down the road. Perhaps that might delay the dogs, thought Aein. They did it again. And then kept running. The baying seemed more distant, but they did not slow.

  “Here!” said Finn, pointing to a grove of trees. A low fog hung around the base.

  Aein pulled back, realizing what it was. “No,” she whispered, pleading.

  “There is nowhere else,” Finn replied, placing his hands upon her back and pushing her into the forest.

  Only it wasn’t just the forest. It was the swamp. The swamp had grown. Its borders had become amoeba like, stretching around the solid lands like a sickening embrace. The moment the fog touched Aein, she felt the panic begin to rise again in her throat.

  “It is just a little farther,” Finn urged. “I promise. Just a little further.”

  Aein felt a spider web fall across her face, and she quickly brushed it off, the sticky threads being too much after the ropes which just bound her. Her feet began to sink in the mud. Finn was not faring any better, but he reached back to steady her and they continued on. The howling of the dogs sounded like they were coming through a dream, but they were coming, and they were coming closer.

  “Get in here!” said Finn.

  The fog was so thick, she had not even seen the huge hillside. There were massive rocks in front of it. Between two of them, there was a small opening, just barely enough for a person to squeeze through. But Aein did. She pushed her body through the boulders and felt like there should have been a popping sound when she emerged. Huddled together in this makeshift stone circle were all the others who escaped from her camp, but no Lars.

  “Where is Lars?” Aein asked, spinning around.

  Finn squeezed after her. “He’s fine.”

  It didn’t reassure her. “Then why isn’t he here?” she asked.

  At that moment, the werewolves were at the boulder opening. But they would step forward and then retreat, yipping in pain, before coming back to attack again.

  “What is going on?” asked Aein.

  Finn grinned as he caught his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Silver ore.”

  “What?”

  He pointed at the floor, at the rocks. “Lars led us here, but when he tried to enter, he couldn’t. Just like those werewolves. We’re safe.”

  Aein leaned her hands upon her thighs and looked up. She could see the sky overhead. If the werewolves figured out how to scale the boulders they would be dead. Lars was now out in the swamp alone…

  “I will save my celebration until we see the morning,” she said.

  Finn placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. “They are hunting us, not him. He will be back with the sunrise. He’s been laying false tracks the entire time you and I were running. It was the only way that we survived.”

  Yet again, she owed her life to a man she left abandoned in the swamp.

  Finn saw her shift in mood. “Come,” he said. You’re alive. You must tell us everything that happened between the time we left and I found you tied to a tree.”

  And Aein realized that she owed her life to Finn, too. If he had not been there to cut the rope. If he had not come exactly when he did, instead of abandoning her like she had told him too… she hated to think about where she would be right now.

  Her face gentled as the fear begin to fade away. Finn pushed back a muddy strand of her blonde hair. “There. If we cannot laugh in the face of our own deaths, what can we laugh at?”

  “I would take a court jester any day of the week,” said Aein.

  “So tell me a joke about those that invaded the camp.”

  Aein tried to ignore the relentless sound of the rabid werewolves trying to get into their sanctuary. She told them all about Lord Arnkell and his betrayal. She was glad that there was almost no light so she did not have to see the look of shock upon their face. She told them of how he was going to use the werewolves to attack the Haidra lands, that she saw at least eighty, forty men and forty werewolves, among his company. She also told them that Lord Arnkell had captured the Princess Gisla.

  Aein noted it was the news of the princess’s fate which seemed
to bother Finn the most. Finn had his back against one of the boulders and was seated in a crouch. When Aein finally ran out of words, she heard him sigh.

  “What do we do?” she asked.

  “We must go to the Haidra lands and warn them,” said Finn. “We must tell King Haidra that his daughter is lost.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next morning, it was the gradual lightening which woke Aein. Or perhaps it was the absence of the dogs outside.

  “Wake up!” she said to the others. “Get up before you change!”

  Sleepily, they had already started to shift. One of the women pulled back her hand. Smoke was pouring from where it had touched the silver ore in the ground. She gasped, recoiling as if she had placed her hand on a hot stove, and raced outside. The other followed her as soon as she was clear of the opening. One after another, they squeezed through. Finn winced as he waited his turn, last except for Aein, to make sure everyone got safely out. His feet were already becoming paws, his legs were already canine. He finally squeezed through the gap, crying in pain as he changed, his skin coming into contact with the boulders.

  He fell onto the ground. Aein dashed out of the rocks and to his side. By the time she got there, everyone had completed their change. The werewolves from the night before were now terrified people who had taken off towards the forest, but were slowly coming back when they realized no one was making chase. Finn lay on his side, though, his breathing labored. Where he had brushed against the stone, great welts were left in his skin, leaving silver burns where the fur did not come in. There wasn’t anything to do. They had no healer. No water to wash the wound. Nothing.

  She turned around, aware that the pack that hunted them were now in their human form.

  “Should we kill him while he’s down?” asked one.

  “NO!” shouted Aein. “No!”

  The group stepped back from her fierceness.

  Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke. Lars stepped forward, now human once again, and placed himself beside Aein. “He is our friend. Like I told you, she has a cure.”

  “Look at how good it has cured him,” spat one of the men, pointing at Finn.

  “It was the silver ore,” Aein said. “The silver in that rock. It is what kept us safe from you.”

  The crowd shuffled back and forth, unsure of what to say. That same older man stepped forward. “Is it true, though? You have something that can help us?”

  Aein nodded, but inwardly did a head count. She did not have enough berries. Would half of one be enough? Should she ration them out? How did someone give twenty-one berries to forty people?

  “I don’t know if I have enough…”Aein confessed.

  “Well, give to me!” the man said, pushing his way forward. “I’ll take them!”

  At once, it was like a riot, people pushing and grabbing at Aein in desperation. Suddenly, Finn’s large, black, flying mass knocked down the older man, holding him flat on the ground, his snarling mouth close to the man’s face. Any pain he was in seemed to disappear with this call to duty.

  It was enough to calm the crowd.

  “We will split what we have. We will be fair,” said Aein. “I don’t know what effect they will have, only giving you half a dose, but we must do what we can.”

  “Line up!” directed Lars. “Any who do not cooperate will not receive any!”

  The werewolves around the people circled. Though not threatening, they kept their eyes on the crowd like sheep dogs upon a flock.

  Aein picked up one of the berries and held it up to the first woman. “Do you swear you will bite this in half?” she asked.

  The woman before her nodded. She took it from Aein, bit it in half and then passed it to the person beside her. This went on down the line until finally, Aein reached the final person. It was a young boy, perhaps eleven or twelve. Aein stared into his face. She had one whole berry. Would it be better to have him eat half and give the other half to someone stronger? Someone wiser? Someone whom she would be better served to have sane and at her side?

  But as she looked at him she realized this was the luck of the draw. He had chosen to stand here. Their number just happened to work out this way. She handed him the berry. “For you,” she said.

  “Hey!” said a man. “Why did he get—”

  “Because I said so!” snapped Aein. The man stepped back, casting his eyes to the ground. “Any sanity, any relief that you receive, know that I am the one who gave it to you. And if any of you believe my judgment is not sound, you may leave our pack and fend for yourself.”

  The wolves around her growled low, accenting her words and inserting themselves as the enforcers of her will.

  But the boy did not eat it all. He only took half and handed the rest back to Aein. “I am small.”

  And she solemnly took back the remaining berry he offered so generously. She looked at the group. Did she give it to someone else? How could she pick? Should she give it to Finn or Lars to see if just one-half more was enough to keep them from shifting at all? She could not decide, so instead, she wrapped it in the cloth. Perhaps the gods had another use for it.

  “Now,” she said, addressing the crowd. “We must go to the Haidra lands to warn them of what is coming.”

  She hoped as she looked around at the people around her, the people who had only received half of the cure, that she, herself, was not bringing the terror to the Haidra door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The stronghold sat high upon a hill. Though the city proper was enclosed within the town walls, the central castle used height as its defense. The building was tall and round with no adornment of turrets or towers. It sat like a cup overturned. Its warriors could stand upon its battlement and see for miles in all directions. There would be no sneaking up on this stronghold. They had probably already seen Aein and her mangy crew from the moment they stepped over the horizon.

  The night did not pass comfortably for Aein and those in human form. The half-dosed werewolves were not mad with bloodlust or rabid like they were before. But neither were they tame and thoughtful as her wolves that walked the day. The wolves of the night were wild, kept only in line by Lars. She did not trust that they would take any opportunity to challenge her position for pack authority. Lars settled in as the alpha of the night. Finn settled in as alpha of the day. But they both served her.

  How strange, she thought, resting her hand upon Lars’s furry neck as she looked out upon the Haidra stronghold. Just a few months ago, she was the lowest of the low, a foot soldier of no importance. And now she commanded an entire canine army. How the world turned.

  She did not see any sign that Lord Arnkell had arrived. No weeping widows. No heads upon pikes. No blood running crimson in the street. She did not know what to think about that. Why had he delayed? What tactics was he trying to employ? Perhaps he was raising more of an army than just the four-legged kind? Perhaps they had realized that one berry held the key to their sanity and had gone in search of more. Perhaps they hadn’t and were off searching for the false mushrooms. Perhaps they had found mushrooms like the ones she had lied about. Perhaps they were poisonous and now all of Lord Arnkell’s army lay dead.

  Finn left a couple he was talking to and stepped next to Aein. Across his face was the scar from the silver. It ran from his forehead down his cheek. She did not know if it ran further down his body.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Lars looked up at her and whined.

  “They will not have closed the city gates?” she asked, looking as the moon came over the horizon.

  “We should have an hour,” Finn replied. “We need to go in now.”

  “You are sure they will recognize you?” she asked.

  He laughed, shaking his head ruefully. “I was not perhaps the most well liked politically, and many were anxious for me to leave and join the Arnkell household, but they will know me.”

  Aein nodded before taking a deep breath. “Then we best continue on.”

  They we
nt through the city surrounding the fortress and everyone in their path took a fearful step back from Aein and Finn, and their crew of werewolves and motley humans. The town was massive compared to the Arnkell stronghold. It had buildings and roads filled with shops and taverns and people. She could not imagine how terrifying this must look to them, a pack of wolves walking down the dark street. The lamplight and shadows probably made them look twice as fierce. She heard their accusing whispers of witchcraft. She looked over at Finn. He glanced neither right nor left. The only sign of worry was a small, tense twitch near his jawbone.

  When they reached the portcullis of the barbican, two soldiers stepped out with spears, blocking their way. They wore silver colored helmets which protected their noses and long red tunics over their chainmail. Finn stopped and the entire party stopped with him.

  “What is your business?” one of the men challenged.

  Finn stepped forward, giving an exhausted but welcoming smile. “Is that you, Hrolf?”

  The man seemed perplexed and peered closer. “Finn?” he asked incredulously. “Are you a ghost?”

  “It is I, my friend, and I come with direful news for the king.”

  Hrolf looked at the other guard. They spoke in hushed tones. Then Hrolf stepped forward. “I will escort you to the petition room.”

  Finn nodded. “Very well, but heed my words in case I am not able to get back in time to warn you. Lord Arnkell betrayed us all. He comes here with a pack of beasts like these, only they wear harnesses of silver. They can only be killed by decapitation, but try not to slay them. Try to capture as many as you can and lock them safely away.”

  There were more whispers between the two men. Hrolf saluted, acknowledging Finn’s command. Aein had forgotten during all their time together how high Finn was in the ranks. His word was second only to the king. She realized that while they shared so much trying to survive, now that they were back within the structure of society, things would be different. She did not want them to be different.