Bound by Fate (War of the Five Fangs Book 1)

by Asher North

  “There will be time soon,” Rhys said so that only Damon could hear.

  “There will be all the time in the world,” Damon said. “We will make as many children as we can to populate the new world we’ll create together.”

  “We will,” Rhys agreed and within minutes he’d fallen back asleep. Damon laid beside him and tried his best not to think of the scorched husk of the Gold Eye den the last time he’d seen it. It was horrific and seemed to have been burnt into his mind. Even with his eyes closed, the image wouldn’t leave him.

  When sleep took him at last, he saw the den in his dreams and heard the screams of the wolves in his ears as if they were standing right beside him. He ran as fast as he could into the flames meaning to save as many of the wolves as was possible, to help them flee the smoke that choked them but he was never able to reach them no matter how hard he ran. They always seemed just out of reach.

  He pressed himself harder, his heart thrumming in his chest so forcefully that he feared it might burst, and had almost reached a silver and black wolf not much younger than himself when the flames belched and sent a gust of coal and ash into his face, blinding him. His screams echoed in his mind and though he furiously pawed at his eyes to remove the debris, the pain never subsided and he could see only black with flashes of orange. Stumbling about in the darkness, he crashed into something hard and sturdy and fell into the ash that seemed to have piled up all around him like a great cloud. The heat was too much to bear and the smoke crept into his lungs, making it too difficult to breathe.

  He’d just resigned himself to the flames when his vision flared back to life and he found a silver pup streaked with black, his unborn child, nestled in the ash before him. He reached out a paw to pull it close and save it from the destruction all around them and when his paw touched the pup, it fell apart at once, crumbling and blowing away with the wind along with everything else. Even his own paws now had turned to ash and he watched in horror as he himself began to join with the wind until everything went black.

  “Damon! Damon!” a voice hissed, jarring him from his nightmare. He bolted up, his vision blurry with his tears.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I heard something,” Rhys said. “Can’t you smell it?”

  “Smell what?” Damon asked. He was barely conscious, much less aware of his surroundings.

  “I smelled them before I heard them. I can’t see them but there are wolves out there watching us,” he continued and Damon’s blood turned cold in his veins. He strained his eyes to see around them but the snowfall had grown so intense that all he saw was white—but then the smell hit him, like waste left to rot in the light of the sun, so pungent that it roiled his stomach.

  “I smell them now,” Damon said, standing into a crouched and defensive position. He couldn’t see the wolves but he didn’t necessarily need to.

  “What should we do?” Rhys asked, fear coloring his voice.

  “Wake the others but be careful that you don’t move more than necessary. We don’t want our watchers to get the idea that we mean to fight,” Damon said. With a nod, Rhys moved his legs just enough to prod Eleo, who snapped alert at once. His eyes narrowed and without a spoken word he seemed to realize what was going on around him. He matched Damon’s pose and sniffed the air.

  “Reavers,” he said. “I should’ve known.”

  “Reavers?” Damon asked. He’d never heard the term before but it didn’t bode well.

  “They’re wild, absolutely wild wolves,” Eleo said. “They won’t leave us until they take what we have.”

  “But we don’t have anything.”

  “We have skins. We have fur,” Eleo said and a chill ripped through Damon. By now the Lunalis twins were awake and alert, as was Kaster, though Damon doubted he would be of much help if the conflict came to blows, which seemed inevitable.

  “Greetings, my fellows. We mean you no harm,” Knox called to the emptiness around them and received no response. Damon held his breath, his eyes darting back and forth for any sign of movement and his heart leaped into his throat when a pair of blood-red eyes emerge. The wolf was otherwise entirely white, even its nose, and the sight made Damon want to flee but he knew there was nowhere to go and there wasn’t any way he’d leave his fellows. I must fight, he thought, every piece of training Eleo and Rhys had given him racing through his mind at once.

  “We cannot say the same,” the white wolf said, his voice like stone against stone. And then, as if they’d been part of the snow storm, seven more white wolves appeared, though none of them had the same chilling red eyes as their leader.

  “I would offer you our supplies but we do not have any to offer,” Knox said.

  “Then we will take your lives,” the red-eyed wolf said.

  “That is not necessary,” Knox said. “My brother, Lux, and I are the leaders of the Gold Eye pack. In fact, we are the only known living members left of our pack.”

  “We care less about packs and allegiances than we do your lives,” the wolf said.

  “We have a pregnant wolf among us,” Knox said and Damon didn’t fail to notice both the desperation in Knox’s voice and the way that the white wolf’s eerie eyes flashed to Rhys and back to Knox.

  “The better to fill our stomachs,” the wolf said and Damon growled. The white wolf laughed and fixed his piercing eyes on Damon and he thought only of his father and half-brother’s eyes. This wolf was neither of them but if he dared make a move against Rhys then Damon wouldn’t hesitate to unleash his anger and thirst for revenge.

  “You mean to stop us, weakling?” the wolf asked Damon.

  “I’ll murder you where you stand if you take another step forward,” Damon snarled and the fur on the back of the white wolf’s neck stood on end before he stepped forward, despite Damon’s low-bellied growl.

  “Please, there need not be bloodshed this day,” Knox said, putting himself between the white wolf and Damon.

  “I disagree,” the wolf said.

  “What is your name?” Knox asked.

  “It makes no difference what my name is when none of you will be alive to remember it,” the wolf said and the conversation fell, which made every muscle in Damon’s body tense. The other wolves had surrounded them now without any of them noticing. Damon backed up, covering Rhys with his own body. He wouldn’t let any harm come to his mate nor to their child, and though he knew he would almost certainly be killed in the act, the fear no longer phased him. This is what he’d been preparing for, mentally and physically.

  A piercing whimper sliced through the air and Damon whirled to find a white wolf with Kaster’s hind leg clamped in his teeth, the blood staining the wolf’s fur and the pure white snow beneath them. Time seemed to stand still for a split second before everything around him broke into chaos. Eleo lunged at the wolf who’d bitten his son and the Lunalis twins struck out at their own targets. It was hard to see and keep track of everything happening thanks to the snow and wind but Damon kept his back to Rhys and varied his angle to make sure that he never left himself exposed for too long.

  All around him he heard the thud of body against body, the snap of fang against fang, and the howls of wolves both friend and foe. He kept his fangs bared, ready to strike at any instant, but all his resolve almost fled him when he caught sight of a pair of golden eyes approaching him. The wolf’s fangs were bared and blood stained its snout, though whose blood Damon could only guess. It was as bright as the flames in his dreams, however, so there was no doubt that it was fresh.

  “Stay back!” Damon snarled, baring his fangs even more. The wolf growled in return, creeping forward inch by inch. “I’m warning you,” Damon called again but it didn’t deter the wolf in the slightest. It lunged and Damon leaped forward to meet it mid-air, their bodies rolling across the snow as their claws slashed and fangs snapped.

  When they broke and Damon returned to his feet, he noticed a streak of blood on his enemy’s right shoulder and the sting of a bite wound on h
is own leg. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw Rhys standing alone, unprotected, and as he made to dash back to his side, the wolf attacked and tackled Damon to the ground. Using all the strength he could muster, Damon threw the wolf off just before its jaws clamped down around his throat and dashed to Rhys just in time to see a wolf soaring through the air toward him.

  “Rhys!” Damon shouted, hoping to alert him, but it was too late or he hadn’t heard. The white wolf landed on Rhys’s back and the two went tumbling through the snow, the sound of which was only overshadowed by the whimpers and snarls of the two wolves. Propelling himself forward as fast as he wounded leg would carry him, Damon slammed into the wolf on top of Rhys. The wolf tumbled onto its back and with one swift movement, Damon snapped down and tore out the wolf’s throat. Warmth flooded his mouth and he spat it away. Rhys rolled over and whimpered. His right leg had been mauled by the wolf.

  “Rhys,” Damon gasped, paralyzed.

  “Damon!” Rhys shouted, his eyes growing wide as he looked beyond Damon. Damon whirled to find the leader of the Reavers with his death-red eyes barreling toward him and dug his paws into the ground preparing to launch forward and meet him. When his muscles screamed from the tenseness, he made to release the energy but was pre-empted by Eleo’s massive form appearing in the snow, which slammed into the white wolf and knocked him off course. It wasn’t enough, however, so Eleo gave him chase and the two wolves disappeared in a storm of snow, claws, and fangs.

  Damon turned back to Rhys and was horrified by the amount of his mate’s blood that now covered the snow around him. With little care for his own safety or for anything else, Damon shifted into his human form, the frigid snow and ice like fire against his bare feet and hands as he did so, and took Rhys into his arms before running as fast as his clumsy and wounded human form would allow. He didn’t know where he was running but he knew he had to get Rhys away from the madness and the threat of the wolves. He ran with such abandon that he failed to see a wolf lying in the snow ahead of him and went reeling over the wolf’s body, sending Rhys rolling out across the snow with a cry of pain. When he looked behind him and noticed that fallen wolf’s body hadn’t reacted to their collision, fear swelled in his throat and threatened to close it entirely. It was Lux Lunalis.

  Scrambling to his hands and knees, Damon ran to Rhys and threw his body on top of his mate. If he couldn’t fight, couldn’t save him with his own claws and fangs, then maybe his body could serve as a shield to keep him safe until Eleo or some other stronger, more capable wolf could fight off the threat. Because Damon had failed in the one purpose he’d been given in this life. Rhys had been wounded, the realization of which pained him more than any of his own injuries.

  “Rhys! Rhys! Are you there?” Damon shouted, frantic, as he held his mate’s head in his hands but Rhys’s eyes seemed unable to focus and though his mouth moved to speak, no coherent words came out.

  “No! You can’t leave me. Rhys, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me,” Damon begged, his voice choked as he fell down onto Rhys and pulled him close. He was cold, far too cold, but Damon was determined to warm him and keep him on this earth. A wet nose on his arm startled him and Damon whirled, shifting back into his wolf form faster than he’d ever done before to find Eleo crouching down on one leg and panting.

  “Eleo!” he shouted, taking in Eleo’s injuries. His right eye was crusted shut with blood and Damon saw the tendons and muscle under Eleo’s skin at his shoulder where another wolf had torn it open. Another wolf appeared moments later and Damon knew from the golden shade of its fur that it was Knox. When their eyes met, Knox looked away quickly as if he’d been shocked by the contact.

  “We have to go,” Damon said, hearing his voice as if it were coming from another wolf in another place far from the snow he stood in now.

  “We can’t,” Eleo said, clenching his jaw against the pain that was no doubt overwhelming him. “Where’s Kaster?”

  “I’m here,” Kaster said, emerging from the snow with a limp thanks to the injury on his hind leg.

  “Rhys is hurt, we have to get him help,” Damon said. Though he felt sorry for the injuries of the others, he was far more concerned with his mate and the child within. “The baby could be in jeopardy.”

  “What of the others?” Knox asked.

  “Dead,” Eleo said.

  “All of them?” Damon asked.

  “All,” Eleo grunted and Damon was amazed. Had Eleo taken care of all of them on his own? He knew that he hadn’t been of much help in the battle and hated himself for it. The moment had come for him to prove himself and everything he’d learned had fled him. More than anything else, he felt ashamed and responsible for Rhys’s injuries.

  “More will come,” Knox said.

  “We won’t make much progress in this weather and with our current condition,” Eleo said. “What if we cross paths with other wolves? We only just made it out of this alive, the next encounter won’t see us as lucky.”

  “Staying put isn’t an option. I’ll go without you all if I have to,” Damon said and Eleo eyed him.

  “I wouldn’t advise that,” he said. “All of us are wounded, not just Rhys. I understand your concern but we can’t dash off.”

  “Eleo has the right of it,” Knox said, speaking for the first time since the battle had ended. He shifted into his human form and bundled snow in his fists before applying it to Eleo’s shoulder wound. Eleo snarled and made to pull away.

  “The cold will keep the swelling down,” Knox said. “I have no supplies to treat the more severe extent of the wound but perhaps the White Tails will.”

  “That’s assuming they’ll allow us inside,” Damon said as he scooped Rhys back into his arms and stood up. “What will we do if they refuse?” he asked and Knox looked away.

  “We can only pray that does not come to pass,” he said and saw to the wound on Kaster’s rear leg. Damon couldn’t wait any longer, refused to wait, so he set off into the wind and snow, Rhys’s body sagging against his chest. You’ll make it through this, I know you will, Damon thought as he choked back tears. He wouldn’t cry, not now. He may have failed to protect Rhys but he fully intended to be strong for him now and speak for him when he couldn’t speak for himself.

  “Where are you going?” Eleo shouted after him. “You’re going to get the both of you killed.”

  “If Rhys dies then I’ll have nothing left to live for,” Damon called back without stopping and Rhys stirred, as if Damon’s voice had brought him back from wherever he’d gone. His eyes fluttered, as did Damon’s heart, and when they focused on Damon’s face he felt as if he might yet see the end of this.

  “I’m so cold,” Rhys groaned.

  “I know. Save your breath. We will take care of you,” Damon promised and it was a promise he had no intention of breaking. He’d done far too much of that already. He continued walking despite the snow striking his face and the numbness in his feet until his knees gave out beneath him and he fell forward on one knee, just barely managing to keep hold of Rhys who groaned and wilted against him, falling back into unconsciousness once more.

  Damon stared up at the sky, at the Blood Eye that burned brighter than the sun through the curtain of snow that enveloped them all, and wept. Haven’t you reaped enough blood? he demanded of the star. I would give anything, any sacrifice, to have Rhys back with me. Tell me what it is you want and I will give it to you without hesitation.

  The star gave no answer other than the winking of its light.

  Rhys

  Rhys saw nothing but a blinding white light.

  Even if he placed his hands in front of his face it brought tears to his eyes if he dared open them. He screamed and though he felt the vibration in his throat, he heard no sound and wondered if he might have gone back to the Aurora to meet his father.

  He thought of Damon and no sooner had he done so than the black wolf appeared before him in a great silhouette, blocking out the light like an eclipse, and Rhys reached ou
t for him, desperate to feel his touch.

  “Damon!” he shouted. “Damon!” but again he heard nothing, only the buzzing emptiness all around him. His throat was aflame from the effort of the shouting and when he could take no more he fell to his knees and let the tears he’d refused to shed come flooding forth.

  Damon couldn’t hear him and the only reason for that was because Rhys had passed on, returned to the light from which he and all wolves were born. His home was above Aurora Falls now, along with all the great wolves who’d come before him. He’d always wanted to meet his heroes and perhaps now he’d gotten the chance.

  When he opened his eyes again to blink away the tears, he saw only darkness. The image of Damon had melted into the blackness and Rhys found it suddenly difficult to breathe. The weight of his own body vanished and he felt as if he were floating or falling, he couldn’t tell which, at a rapidly increasing rate until at last he crashed into something heavy and once more was blinded by white light.

  Something red and sinister swam into his view and he realized it was the Blood Eye staring back at him. Blinking away the moisture and blur, he sat up slowly through the pain that seemed to rack his entire body and found himself surrounded by wolves, wolves he recognized who were just as wounded as he was. Snow whipped around them, stinging Rhys’s snout and face. He desperately searched through the blanket of snow for Damon but he was nowhere to be found. Images of a battle, of bloodshed and cries of pain returned to him. He would have given anything to erase those images from his mind but he knew they were as much a part of him now as his child was.