Lila's Wolf (Out of Time Book 1)

by Sofia Grey

  The warlord was staggering, blood pouring down his dust-covered face and producing weeping red lines over grey. His mane of wild hair fell around his shoulders like a white cloak, and one arm hung useless and twisted, but the other carried a heavy sword. His every move was intent on the two fallen men before him. When he saw the ghardians, he bellowed ancient curses and threats that Jared barely recognised.

  Even with two functioning arms, Jared knew he was no match for the bloodthirsty warlord, but he drew his sword and prepared to fight. He only had to hold him off until the ghardians joined them. He weighed the sword in his hands, closed his fingers around the hilt, and adopted a defensive posture.

  Widreth didn’t even see him. The Saxon’s sword slashed down, aiming at the two ghardians. It glanced off the stone flags with a dull crash, and Jared saw Marc had dodged the blow, rolling to the side and dragging Bran with him.

  “Hai!” Jared snarled. “Over here. You take me first, you bastard.”

  Widreth seemed confused, and Jared took advantage of it. Lurching wildly, he swung the sword in an upward arc and narrowly missed the Saxon’s good arm. He swept the blade down again, this time to clash against the warlord’s. The shock reverberated through Jared’s entire body, and he gripped the hilt with everything he had, trying to hold on as his opponent parried and then smashed into him. Another blow. Another hammering wave of pain that flew down Jared’s arms and detonated in his shoulders. Widreth was forcing him backward. Another blow. Jared staggered under the weight of the other man’s strength and scrabbled to stay upright on the uneven ground. The heat of the bonfire behind made his neck prickle, and he tried to rally, to hold his ground. The fire had to be close. Sweat poured down his face, and his legs were smarting and stinging. Widreth unleashed a shrieking war cry and swung again with what might be a killer blow, the momentum pulling him forward.

  Jared blinked, unable to see for all the dirt washing into his eyes. This was it. His last thought was of Lila.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Lila

  I was huddled in an outbuilding with Kai, Flavius, and several of the ghardians, when the explosives went off. The noise was unbelievable. Kai sobbed and clung to me, while Flavius stared open-mouthed and speechless.

  “Thunderbolt,” explained Lieutenant Commander Ash. “Lucky we took cover.”

  My heart hammered so hard in my chest, I was sure it could break my ribs. Where was Jared? And Marc? The scene in the courtyard was surreal. Against a backdrop of fire and smoke, the ground was now strewn with rocks and timber, grey ash glowing orange and red with the reflections from the flames. The dust was so thick, it felt like walking into a wall of particles. In seconds I couldn’t breathe. Somebody pressed a damp cloth into my hand, and I held it over my nose and mouth. It helped.

  Saxon warriors staggered around looking dazed, or knelt and prayed to their Gods. The chaos was incredible.

  “There.” I didn’t recognise the voice but I looked up and squinted to try and see. Silhouetted against the roaring fire I could see Widreth, sword high and on the attack. I tried to run but kept losing my footing. Widreth’s sword slammed down, and I heard it crash into another, the noise ringing out.

  “It’s Wolf.” Kai ran beside me, nimble and swift. “And your friends.”

  Marc lay sprawled over Bran, and tugged at his ropes, while several ghardians ran to their aid. Where was Jared?

  I stopped, unable to bear what I saw before me: Widreth forcing Jared into the fire, beating him back step by step.

  “No!” I screamed without thinking and staggered to them, unheeding of whether I tripped. Nothing mattered except stopping the warlord.

  It happened in slow motion. Jared stood in the edges of the blaze, flames dancing up his back. Widreth charged for the killer blow. Jared dropped to one knee and twisted away. Unable to stop in time, Widreth plunged head first into the heart of the inferno.

  I had to close my eyes. I could still see it, as though burned onto my retinas. The warlord screamed, the noise making me want to retch. As he flailed, his movements useless and engulfed in the flames, he dislodged the fragile stack of burning logs, and they tumbled to the ground. One landed on Jared, trapping him.

  The log glowed red-hot, embers and ash burning into his tunic. I didn’t even think about it. I threw myself forward, took a deep breath and shoved my false leg underneath the burning wood to lift it, while I hauled Jared clear.

  The smell of singeing hair and burning flesh filled my nostrils, and my stomach churned again. I slumped to the floor and ripped Jared’s smouldering leather tunic away with my bare hands. My prosthetic limb was ruined. It dangled awkwardly from my knee, twisted and ugly. I had never been so glad of it in my life.

  Jared lay motionless. “Baby,” I whispered, running my hands over him. “It’s me. Lila.”

  I heard someone shout for a medic for Commander Fleur. I heard Marc’s voice, low and in pain, and I tried to rouse Jared. He lay on his side, face into the stones, dead to the world. I fumbled for a pulse, and my hand slipped on something sticky. Blood. Oh, no. Please God, no. I blinked back tears and told myself it was probably Widreth’s blood. When my fingers closed over a hole in Jared’s neck and I felt hot liquid pulse under my fingers, I knew it was his. My lungs so tight I could hardly draw breath, I tried to shout for a medic. It came out as a whispery croak, and I tried again. “Medic, here. Please.” I ripped the cloth from my face, wadded it into a ball and pressed it hard against the wound. “Medic,” I sobbed. “I need a medic.”

  Mischa appeared at my side, and I tried to speak clearly. “He’s lost a lot of blood. You have to stop the bleeding. You have to.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help him.”

  I stared, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

  “We have to leave. Commander Fleur needs urgent medical attention, and Lieutenant Gallagher is seriously injured. We’re arranging an emergency med-evac portal, and Lieutenant Commander Ash has directed me to bring you. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” I kept my hands on Jared’s neck. I’d hold his blood there by force of will, if I could. “He’s coming too.”

  Mischa shook his head and gripped my elbow. “You know the rules about natives. He stays. I’m sorry.”

  I had a split second to make the unthinkable decision. Leave Jared here to die or take him through the portal and sentence him to ten years imprisonment. If he survived the jump.

  “He’s not a native.” I ran my tongue across dry lips and regretted it when I tasted the dust and ash. “He’s one of us. This is Jared Grohl.”

  Mischa froze. His eyes narrowed. “You told the Commander that Grohl had died.”

  “I was lying.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying now?”

  I sucked in a rapid breath and kept my weight against Jared’s wound. Stop the bleeding. Must stop the bleeding. “I’m a credited historian—”

  “Either you lied then or you’re lying now. I don’t have time to make the distinction.” He grabbed at my arm, and I shrank away from him. My hands slipped from Jared’s neck, and I bent low over him, cradling his head and trying to hold the sodden bundle of cloth in place. His blood was all over my hands.

  “Find Flavius,” I screamed, remembering our old friend. “He will tell you. He can vouch for me.”

  “I will vouch for you.”

  I lifted my head. Mischa turned.

  It was Marc. Hunched over, one arm wrapped around his chest, he leaned against another ghardian as though he didn’t have the strength to stand alone, but he was on his feet and breathing. He locked his gaze with the medic’s. “This man is Jared Grohl. Take him through the portal.”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  New Oxford

  Year 2552

  Jared

  Jared floated in a haze, intermittent lights and sounds far away in the distance. He felt cocooned, warm and comfortable, and was reluctant to move, but something nagged at the edge of his consciousness.

 
Lila.

  He opened his eyes to a bright room, the plain walls a soft creamy yellow. Hospital. Back in his own time. Fear clutched at his chest. Where was Lila? He moved his head and looked around. Alone. When he tried to sit up and couldn’t move, realisation slammed home: he’d been restrained from the shoulders down. His heart raced. It had to be the penal colony—already. No chance to appeal. No chance to see Lila.

  Footsteps approached, and a tall man in white overalls smiled down at him. “Good morning. We need you to stay still a little longer, if you don’t mind. How are you feeling now?” The man didn’t wait for a reply. He began checking the readouts on the medical scanner over the bed and making some adjustments.

  Jared forced his tongue to work. “Please tell me, is Lila Cammell here?”

  The medical orderly glanced at him, a puzzled look on his face. “Lila who? I don’t recognise the name. Sorry.”

  “Where am I?” He didn’t want to ask and wasn’t sure he wanted the answer, but he had to know. “What facility is this?”

  The orderly smiled again. “Saint Margaret’s. It’s the standard Med-Evac Clinic for emergency jump casualties.” He ran his fingers up and down some monitors, and then looked back at Jared. “Ten minutes, and I’ll release the lock.”

  What? Had he heard that right?

  “We’re just running some treatment scans, and the doctor will be through to talk to you soon,” the man said.

  Jared blinked, confused. His brain felt as though it were stuffed with cotton wool and every thought process was a struggle.

  “Oh, and you have a visitor waiting.”

  Jared hardly dared breathe. Lila?

  “Shall I send him in?”

  Disappointment washed over Jared and left a sour taste in his mouth. Not Lila. “Yeah,” he whispered.

  “Grohl.” Marc hobbled in and dropped heavily into a chair next to the bed.

  Jared focused on the ceiling and licked his dry lips, unable to look at the ghardian. “Please tell me, did Lila make it back? Is she safe?”

  “Yes. She’s in another facility though.”

  Sweet relief was instantly overtaken by fear. Before Jared could ask, the ghardian continued. “She needs some more work on her leg, so they moved her to a specialist clinic.”

  “Her leg?” Jared turned his head as far as he could and stared at Marc. “What happened? Did she get caught in the explosion?”

  Marc cocked his head to one side, a frown on his face. “You didn’t know about her leg? It’s not my place to tell you. But before you ask, she’s safe and well, and with her family unit.”

  Frustration and worry burst out of Jared in a frantic rush. “What can you tell me, ghardian? Do I get a trial? A chance to appeal? Can I see her before you lock me away?” His anger subsided as quickly. It was useless. Everything was pointless. His life stretched before him, empty and sterile. He’d rather be dead than spend the next ten years without Lila.

  The ghardian looked rough, Jared noted, and he remembered the way he’d been treated by the Saxons. He took a quick breath. Lila was safe, and her partner was still here for her. “I’m glad you made it, Lieutenant.” The words nearly choked him, even though he knew it was for the best.

  “I wouldn’t have without your intervention. I owe you my life, again. Thank you, Grohl. May I call you Jared? I’m really not sure how to repay you.”

  Jared forced a smile. “Lila is safe in her own time, thanks to you. You owe me nothing.”

  The orderly finished with his equipment and broke into the awkward conversation. “That’s all for now. I’m removing the restraint.”

  Jared felt a tingling sensation across his entire body and he stared at the medic, puzzled.

  “You’re not finished yet—you’ll need another treatment later. Try to stay in bed, I’ll be back soon with the doctor,” the orderly said.

  The moment the orderly left the room, Jared sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Dizziness assailed him, but he gritted his teeth. “Where am I? Is this the penal colony?”

  “No.” A faint smile appeared on Marc’s face. “Your friend Flavius told Lieutenant Commander Ash that you only stayed behind to give Lila time to escape. Your courageous actions may well have saved Commander Fleur’s life, along with ensuring the ghardians were able to complete their mission. Your courage stands for itself. I am assured there are no charges to be faced.” He softened his voice. “You’re a free man, Jared. And I owe you an apology.”

  Jared shivered, despite the warmth of the room. Could it be true? Another fear hit him. “What of Kai? I promised to look after her. She’s only a child.”

  “Flavius agreed to be her sponsor and took her back to his village. She will live a long and happy life, thanks to you.”

  The million-dollar question. He braced himself. “Can I see Lila?”

  “I’m sorry, but no.” Marc sounded genuine, and Jared searched his face trying to understand. “When she’s finished at the clinic, her father is moving her to a private facility for her recuperation. He’s specified no visitors.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Lila

  Four weeks. Twenty-eight days with no word from Jared and my father insisting I could have no visitors. He was adamant that my jumping days were over, and the argument between us continued. He wanted me to accept a full time library position. I refused.

  My emotional state had been blamed for the ‘confusion’ over Jared’s identity, and my father was keen to avoid any further slurs of that nature. Confining me to a remote rehab-clinic was a temporary measure at best, while he tried to drum some sense into me. The fact that I’d been immobilised for the first two weeks, while my prosthetic was being replaced, didn’t help. The last fortnight had been spent in intensive physiotherapy, but soon I’d be able to leave.

  The irony was not lost on me. I knew from the news reports that Jared was not only free but had also received a civil commendation for bravery, while I was effectively locked up. Marc, too, had been decorated for his bravery in the field. My heart swelled with pride for both of them, and then ached some more.

  Surely Jared would forgive me for bringing him back through the portal. For not staying there with him. I’d find out soon enough. I’d been forbidden communication with the outside world, but I couldn’t stay here forever. I made my plans with care. First step: get back to New Oxford and find Jared. I’d found him when we were separated by nearly two thousand years. I can do this. The second step would be harder. If loving Jared meant giving up my career, it seemed a fair trade. I had to convince him I was serious, and then ask if he’d consider moving to the remote colonies and trying to make a life together. Of course, now Jared had been recognised by the Council, his career might well be going stratospheric. He might no longer want me. Either way, I had to know.

  My father was due out for dinner tonight, some Council meeting or other, and that would give me time to pack my bags and stow them outside. I planned to leave early in the morning, while the household was asleep. I could be back in New Oxford by sundown.

  Under the guise of feeling unwell, I retired early to my room and loaded up my two bags of essentials. Guilt weighed heavily on me. The shame I’d bring on my family name, the further slur to our reputation, and the hurt I’d cause Marc. He’d been so strong and brave, so gentle with me. I had no doubt he’d make an excellent partner, but not for me.

  Unable to sleep, I lay on my bed fully dressed and stared out the window at the night sky. The full moon rose, bright and yellow, and I thought back to Jared’s words. “Wherever you are, whenever you are, think of me when you see the full moon. Remember our kiss.” I remembered it. How could I ever forget it?

  A knock at the bedroom door jerked me back to the present, and I sat up, and ran my fingers through my hair. It was growing more quickly than I’d expected but was still too short for my liking. “Come,” I called, knowing it had to be my father. I’d heard him return a short while ago. He couldn’t have known about my
plans to leave. I’d told nobody. I dug deep and presented an illusion of calm.

  “Lila.” My father held a comm-pad in one hand. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought you might be interested to hear what was discussed this evening.”

  I sighed inwardly. If this was another worthy-but-dull library position, I’d listen and show some interest, and then ask to have more time to think about it. I produced a polite smile and waited.

  He flicked his thumb over the comm-pad and read something. “This is somewhat unorthodox, but under the circumstances,” he paused and glanced up at me, “I thought it worth consideration. I’ve received a commitment request for you.” Oh God, this had to be from Marc. My face heated, even as I tried to stay calm. Father continued. “The Council has given its sanction, and as your father, I strongly advise you to consider the proposal.”

  I blinked. Tears pressed the backs of my eyes at the thought of this whole new level of guilt over Marc. Rejecting a formal proposal was not something you did lightly. Why couldn’t he have waited a few days? He might have avoided the humiliation. I steeled myself under my father’s intense scrutiny.

  A tired smile crept across his face. “I know we don’t always agree with each other, but I’m hoping we shall now. When the man who saves the life of my only daughter asks to make her a formal commitment, I would hate to refuse him.”

  Shame welled up inside me, and I fought to speak clearly, to hide the emotions that tried so hard to escape. “Thank you, Father. I would like some time to consider this.” I had to pause, to regroup. I forced another smile. “May I give my answer tomorrow? This is too important to rush.”

  He made no sign of moving. I thought I saw concern in his cool blue eyes. “Surely you would like to know who made this request?”

  I knew—I just knew—that as soon as he said Marc’s name, I’d break down. I sucked in a jagged breath. “I have some idea and, really, I am tired. Could we please—”