Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2)

by Annie Nicholas

  “My servant is greedy when it comes to his rewards.” He pressed his ring into the melted wax, sealing the transaction on the bill of purchase. “These four tell me you have a white wolf.” They’d actually said that Peder, Kele and Nahuel had all been taken away this afternoon and hadn’t been seen since. Had they already been sold?

  The auctioneer shook his head. “Nothing exotic like that has passed through my doors in months.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t make up such a story. They were captured with her.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” He handed him his slip of ownership. “Nice doing business with you, my lord.”

  Benic rolled a gold coin over his knuckles. “If the white wolf, or a golden one, turns up on your block, you send someone to fetch me at my hotel before you auction them away.”

  The auctioneer caught the coin and licked his lips. “Always like working with someone who knows what he wants.” He tipped his hat to them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Peder sat in a small cell with Nahuel for gloomy company. When he had agreed to the challenge, he hadn’t known they would take the Yaundeeshaw hunter as well. It seemed foolhardy to send the two injured hunters to fight. They’d been given a good meal of fresh meat and bread with ale. Now, they waited under the fighting arena.

  “What are your strategies?”

  Peder gave Nahuel a slow blink. “For what?”

  “When you fight, what strategies do you use?” Nahuel sat on the floor across from him. Eyes closed, he rested his head against the wall. If he hadn’t spoken, Peder would have thought he was praying.

  Sorin’s teachings sprang to mind. “I’m as tall as most hunters, but I lack the muscle to take them down by brute force. My alpha has been teaching me to use my body to counterweight their attacks and to use pressure points in joints to immobilize them.”

  Nahuel’s eyebrows both rose. He peered at him through cracked eyelids. “Most hunters would have just said to win.”

  Peder gave him a sheepish grin. “That too.”

  “What are your loss to win relations?”

  There were no holes to crawl in. Nahuel didn’t know him except that he was Apisi. That he treated him like a hunter helped Peder act like a hunter. He couldn’t lie. Nahuel would smell it. “One one. You?” He said it as if all hunters should have such scores.

  Nahuel lifted his head slowly. “One one? As in you’ve won a single fight and lost a single fight?”

  He nodded, unable to voice anything due to the constriction growing around his throat.

  “So you’ve only fought two challenges? Ever?”

  “They weren’t exactly challenges. I’m including the fight in the holding pen and the one with Timothy.” He stared at the floor, not willing to look at the incredulity in Nahuel’s eyes. Peder thought he’d done pretty well so far. Timothy did place them in this event. He wouldn’t do that unless he believed they’d win.

  Nahuel leaned forward and grasped his chin so he’d be forced to meet his friend’s wide-eyed stare. “So you’re not really a hunter?”

  “I’m omega.”

  “But you said your alpha’s been training you. Alphas don’t train just anyone—unless he thinks there’s alpha in you.” Nahuel was on his knees now. “And omegas don’t fight. You’re full of surprises, Peder.” He clapped his shoulder. Hard.

  Peder clenched his teeth and held back the wince. His bruises from the caning were abundant. “I don’t know about alpha, but I’ve been changing.” He recalled the other shifters kneeling to him in the pen. Alpha of slaves. What a sorry title. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now and have to win otherwise—” He swallowed hard. “You heard what he’ll do to Kele.”

  Nahuel nodded, solemn again. “How do you want to approach this?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never fought in pairs before. What do you suggest?” Nahuel had more experience than he. Maybe they played such sports in the Yaundeeshaw den.

  “Stay out of the fight at first. Let me test their strengths and weaknesses. I’ll call them out as I spot them.” He rubbed his ear. “We’re both young. We can tire them out before attacking.”

  “Sounds good.” Any plan was better than no plan. He could follow directions well. “But that leaves you the target for most of the attacks.”

  “You’re more injured than I am.”

  Peder chuckled. “This is nothing. A few years ago, I walked around like this all the time.” Pain tolerance didn’t seem to fade with time. He hurt but it was like a faded bad memory. It made him uncomfortable but didn’t affect him.

  Nahuel didn’t share his laugh.

  Clearing his throat, Peder reached for the bucket of water the slavers had left for them and took a deep drink.

  “I heard things about your pack.” Nahuel rolled a pebble back and forth between his fingers and crouched in front of him. “As a pup, I used to have nightmares about the Apisi.”

  Peder passed him the water. “I won’t eat you in your sleep.” Would Nahuel’s nightmares compare to his? He doubted it. He had lived with the monster, not been told stories about him.

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” He drank and looked away. “If I’d thought there’d been any truth to the stories…”

  Peder frowned. “There’s nothing anyone could have done. He was our alpha. Any challenges to him would have been an act of war and I think the hunters would have followed him out of loyalty to the den.” He shook his head. “It’s done. Sorin saved us.” He had saved Peder. He wouldn’t let his teachings go to waste. They would win this challenge. If for nothing else than to prove to himself that he truly possessed a hunter’s heart.

  The sounds of the crowd grew louder. Someone was making announcements.

  Timothy arrived at their cell door. “Listen up. You’ll be in the second fight. It runs like challenges. First one out of the ring loses. This isn’t to the death. You kill someone then I have to pay for their corpse. That means I’ll take the price out of your hide. Am I clear?”

  Peder nodded. “Sir?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What did you call me?”

  “Master?”

  “What is it, Goldie?” He folded his thick arms over his chest.

  “Where is Kele?” She’d arrived with them, then Timothy had taken her away.

  Timothy gave him a secretive smile. “She’s well. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my word.” Then he left Peder clutching the bars.

  “You can’t protect her forever. In fact, I think you’re making it worse.” Nahuel rested his hand on his shoulder.

  Peder thumped his forehead against the metal bar. “I know. I know. But I can’t help it.” Throwing his weight back, he released the cage door and paced the small space. “She’s been under my skin since the first time I met her. I’m like a rabid dog when someone tries to hurt her. I can’t think straight, I can’t sleep.”

  “Love is a grand thing, isn’t it?” Nahuel had returned to his original spot with his back to the wall, his eyes closed.

  The crowd cheered above them. Growls and a sharp whine broke through the other noises.

  “I’m sorry. It’s callous of me to speak of her with you.” Peder chuckled. Nahuel and Kele’s mating ceremony felt like years ago instead of days. “I don’t mean any disrespect.”

  Nahuel didn’t respond.

  A sinking feeling crept into Peder. “Do you love her?”

  Finally, the other hunter smiled. “No. I didn’t even know her name until a few moments before the slavers attacked, but she loves you. I can smell it on her. The whole ride here in that damn small cage. You both reeked of it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stop saying it. Part of it was his omega conditioning, but part of it was he truly felt like he had stolen a treasure from Nahuel.

  “You shouldn’t be. She’s beautiful and maybe one day we might have loved each other.” He shrugged. “Now all I can hope for is to survive another day.”

  The announcer began speaki
ng again, but his voice was too muffled to hear the words.

  Guards opened their door. “You’re next.”

  They filed out and were led to the ring. Torchlights surrounded the circle and kept the spectators in the shadows. The scent of blood and sweat tainted the air. Two large males made of gristle and rough edges stood in the center. They’d already dropped their clothes outside the ring.

  He and Nahuel added theirs to the pile.

  The announcer introduced them by name. The crowd cheered for their opponents, clearly the favorites.

  Nahuel stood with a relaxed stance and leaned close to his ear. “We’re in trouble.”

  Peder’s spine snapped straight. Kele couldn’t afford for them to lose. He turned to face Nahuel, but he’d already left Peder’s side and shifted to feral. The others had as well. He automatically thought of his trigger memory and embraced his body’s change.

  The announcer raced from the ring.

  As they had agreed, he kept to edges and observed Nahuel’s tactics. His friend feinted his first two attacks, one for each hunter.

  They reacted differently. The first jumped back and the second jumped forward, attacking Nahuel in return and taking the fight to the ground.

  Nahuel held the other’s head as he snapped his sharp teeth at his throat. The fight wasn’t supposed to be to the death, yet the pouncing hunter acted like he wanted life blood.

  The crowd’s roar seemed louder than the previous fight, but he’d been under the ring at the time. It hit his ears as if the cheers were a physical blow. He spun and stared into the dark. Was Kele watching?

  Peder couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. His chest heaved but the suffocation grew worse.

  A sharp whimper of pain returned his attention to the fight. Both hunters were on Nahuel now. This wasn’t a regular challenge. The spectators wanted blood and the attacking shifters were animals—they’d lost what made them civil.

  With a snarl, Peder leaped into the fray. Claws extended, muzzle open he landed on the closest hunter.

  If they wanted blood, he’d make them drown in it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kele sat alone in a cell under the fighting ring. The battle noises drifted down until she could focus on nothing else. Was that Peder’s howl of pain? Or his snarl? She sat by the barred door and pressed her face against the cool metal. Sometimes a guard would pass but none paid her heed, except one who’d told his comrade that she belonged to Timothy and wasn’t to be touched. She took small consolation in his words. After this event, she doubted the cat shifter would keep his word.

  Dread anchored in her stomach and weighed her down. No matter what happened, she would not lie quiet like some omega female. They’d meet an alpha in training when they tried to touch her body. She held no illusion that she’d escape her fate but at least, she could travel to the dark and meet her goddess with her head held high.

  If the Goddess existed…Kele wanted to pray. She found solace in it, but if prayers fell upon deaf ears—or nothing at all—she just couldn’t muster the strength to even try. The Goddess had turned her back on her people long ago and the last hope of her return had died in Kele.

  Heavy footsteps treaded to her door and Timothy crouched in front of her, his dark gaze angry. “Goldie did well in the ring, but he’s hurt.”

  She scurried to her feet. “I’m a healer. Let me tend him.”

  His gaze narrowed.

  She fell to her knees and bowed her head to the dirt as if he were her alpha. “Please, master.” Anything to see Peder, to care for him, as he’d done so many times for her. In her soul, she knew he’d fought for her, that he believed Timothy would keep his word about not raping her. Peder had such a noble heart, even after everything he’d been through.

  “That’s better.” The lock clanked and the door squeaked open. “Come with me. Behave and I’ll let you tend to his fucking wounds.”

  She walked next to him, silently urging him to hurry his steps, but the waves of fury flowing off his body held her tongue. She fisted the sides of her torn dress, somehow managing to swallow her sharp-edged words. For all she knew, Peder was bleeding to death. Alone.

  Outside the arena waited a cart pulled by a mule. Nahuel sat inside.

  She hurried to look over the edge. Peder lay on his side, his head cradled in Nahuel’s lap and his skin awash in smeared blood. “No.” She leaped into the cart and ran her hands over his bared chest. Someone had tossed his kilt over his hips but had not belted it.

  He turned his head at her cry. “I’m fine.” The words came out strained and less than fine.

  “You know better than to lie to me.”

  He gave her a weak sheepish grin. “We won.”

  Timothy whipped the reins and the cart rocked as they started forward.

  Superficial cuts, the start of a few bruises, and swelling around his left eye. He didn’t look like he’d won. Where had all this blood come from? She rolled him on his back, even though he protested with a groan. There. A long slice ran along his flank. “He’ll need stitches.” The wound wasn’t deep enough to bleed this amount though. He shouldn’t even be conscious. She glanced at Nahuel. “What about you?”

  He gave her a wan smile. “Nothing serious.” She noted his skin was covered in blood too. He caught where her gaze traveled. “Peder saved my life. He killed both hunters.”

  Peder’s dull stare remained pinned to the side of the cart. “They were both mad and had to be put down.” The words sounded hollow. Sometimes when a shifter remained in his feral form too long he forgot how to act civil. And sometimes shifters were just born that way. They were usually killed as pups because of the danger to the pack when they grew too big and strong.

  She stroked his matted hair. It couldn’t have been easy for him. He probably hadn’t taken another’s life before, but secretly, part of her was proud of him. This was an act of an alpha. Nahuel hadn’t felt the urge to kill, but Peder had.

  They pulled into the slaver’s compound. Timothy rested his arms on the edge of the cart. “You both lost me a lot of money tonight.”

  Peder snorted. “You sent us in to lose.”

  “You proved me wrong. Didn’t you? Taught me a lesson about betting against my own. And on top of it, I have to pay for those shifters you killed.” He spat on the ground then gestured to his guards. Pointing to Nahuel, he said, “Take him back to the pen. Put these other two in a single cell and give her what she needs to fix him.”

  She warned off the guards from touching Peder since she didn’t trust them to be gentle. “Can you walk?” Sliding her shoulder under his, she helped him to the side of the cart.

  “Sure.” He stood and weaved, but with her guidance they made it to a hall parallel to the holding cage. Single cells much like the arena’s lined one side of the wall, all of which were empty.

  She led them into the closest one and blinked at the cot. Why didn’t they give the slaves these cots if they weren’t being used?

  Peder melted onto the bed and sighed as if bone weary.

  “I need something to stitch his wounds, clean water, and bandages. Oh, and some hard spirits.”

  The guard raised his eyebrow. “Anything else, princess?”

  “No.” She waved him away and turned her back on them so they wouldn’t see how the title hurt. Peder had called her the same the first time they’d met, except he’d meant it as a compliment. She wouldn’t let them turn that endearment into something she’d hate.

  Kele sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  Grabbing her wrist, he brought it to the gland behind his ear and gave her a temporary mark. It was how a male of their people let a female know he was interested in her as a mate. If she refused him, she only had to wash it off.

  She stared at the spot where his scent now permeated her skin. No male had ever marked her.

  “You’re mine, Kele. I mean it. I killed for it tonight.” A new darkness surrounded Peder. S
he’d seen it as soon as she’d laid eyes upon him in the cart. “They almost killed Nahuel when we stepped in the circle. But that’s not what made me do it. I needed to keep you safe and those shifters wouldn’t have cared about a silly ring in the dirt.” His glare never left hers as if he dared her to flinch as he told her what had happened. “When I attacked, I went straight for the kill. I didn’t even give them a chance.”

  “You couldn’t have. They were a danger to everyone in that arena. It was foolish for the slavers to let them fight.” She brought her marked wrist to her nose and inhaled. He smelled of sunshine-warmed Eorthe, and she recalled what her father had said in one of their last conversations. Sometimes alphas have to kill to defend the pack. She wouldn’t have killed Tegrathe since their pack needed her, but Tegrathe would have killed her even though she was the pack’s only healer. At the time, she’d thought Tegrathe the better hunter, and maybe she was, but now Kele understood that she was the better alpha.

  He leaned up on his elbow. “Do you truly believe that?”

  “Being alpha means doing what’s best for the pack, not what’s best for you.” She caressed his cheek. “I know if you could, you would have spared them.” It was a mercy, not a crime, to have let those tortured souls free of their mad bodies. Staring into his spring-green eyes, she saw a part of her omega die and her heart broke. She loved him so much and unless they escaped, she wouldn’t be able to keep him. Just the thought of another touching him almost sent her over the feral edge.

  The door to the cell opened and the guard set the things she’d asked for on the floor, along with a tray filled with food.

  Timothy stood behind him. “I need him healed. We’ll begin battle training in the morning.”

  She picked up what she needed to mend Peder. “That will tear his stitches. He needs a few days of rest first.”

  “Stitch him well then because he only gets tonight.” Timothy closed and locked the door, leaving them alone with only the torchlight outside their cell for her to sew by.