by J. K. Jones
“Meet me in the forest tomorrow night.”
Ryu laughs breathlessly. “You sure do like bossing me around.”
“Meet me.”
Ryu trembles at the command. “But—”
Suddenly the door is opening, and two people are walking in. Micah jerks away from Ryu as if he was burnt. Trmon and Deryn are casually joking as they enter the room, both of them smiling and laughing at each other. Ryu turns around swiftly, making sure to look like he’s busy organizing some of the swords so that they won’t see the high flush on his cheeks.
“Alpha.” Trmon bows. “Everything is ready for you. We will depart in your father’s regiment very soon.”
Micah hums his approval, hands hanging uselessly at his side.
“Don’t worry,” Deryn says happily. “We will avenge your mother by killing all those worthless Filthy Claws once and for all.”
“Rest assured,” Trmon replies. “Those disgusting mutts will be brought to heel. I heard their stench is so foul it nearly offends the heavens.”
“I heard,” Deryn answers. “That they bathe in shit and piss.”
Ryu's heart twists.
Not by choice—he clenches his jaw tightly. As if they have any other choice? As if they have massive homes and mansions? The Filthy Claw Clan has nothing. They came from nothing and to laugh and joke about it turns his stomach. What the hell was he doing anyway? Kissing Micah was a big mistake. Especially with the war right on their heels.
“Let’s go,” Micah says to them.
“Yeah, stinks like shit in here anyways,” Deryn mumbles, eyes shooting over to Ryu before the three of them walk out the door.
His heart thumps loudly in his chest. They were almost discovered. If this ever got out Micah would lose all respect, especially from his men. He rushes to clean up, knowing that he will need to stay away from Micah for a long as it takes.
For as long as it takes to make his heart stop pounding and his knees not to shake.
Chapter 28
Ryu watches the sun's rays illuminate the sky. From his dorm-room, it’s as if they were narrow roads, heaven-bound, for only the purest of hearts to travel. He thinks long and hard about the events of the previous days. Micah sought him out constantly, his eyes burning holes into the back of his neck.
Ryu feels flushed.
With envy, desire, a sudden recklessness that he didn’t know had been mounting for years. To want—is a dangerous thing. They both aren’t in a position to want. Ryu knows the Silvercrest Howlers are a few stops away from tossing him out, it was only Amaya’s love for him that kept him safe for so long. What would he do without her protection? Ryu doesn’t want to think about it. He was her slave, now he’s a slave to the Silvercrest Regiment. He would do all he can not to bring shame and disgrace to her or damage her reputation any further.
A new dawn is coming, whether he’ll be able to live with himself when everything is said and done is still unclear. Ryu gathers his things to prepare, amidst the rabid whispers and sneers, he knows they will be called to the front lines soon. Would Micah stand and fight alongside him? When the bodies of the Silvercrest Howlers started piling up would he run?
Could he face his wolf brothers and know in his heart he betrayed them? Could he go against everything his clan stands for?
Ryu is deeply troubled by all of these questions.
How far is he willing to lose himself to madness? He thinks about Micah, his face, his eyes, his unwavering courage, and his devotion to his pack. Ryu knows now he’s in too deep, way over his head. He loves Micah—for him he would do anything.
For the Sun, he would do all of those things and more.
Taking one lasting look at the sky, he sighs, trying to imagine his designated utopia—a utopia where the cherry blossoms burn, the skies are picturesque of hell flames and the earth is filled with the living dead.
-
The Filthy Claws Clan is stripped.
The streets like skeleton bones ripped of flesh almost like a locus and beetle swarm. There is nothing left of this place. Ryu feels his heart twist, the slums are darker than ever before, the people sunken and starving, children shrink amongst the soldiers. They arrived yesterday, with the full might of the Silvercrest Howlers. Their armor heavy, black combat gear, with the Silvercrest regiment crest on their arms. They are in strict formation, bodies stiff carrying a variety of weapons. Ryu keeps his eyes forward. Micah leads them, he walks at the head, wearing his signature silver combat gear, the Silvercrest standing out brightly on his chest.
They march through the streets. Ryu realizes it is only just so that Filthy Claws can see their power. It’s all a parade for the show, to signal to them to back off and yield to the Silvercrest Howlers.
However, Ryu sees the black circles around their eyes, the grit and grime on the hands. They will never yield. Ryu tries to remain focused, but all he can see are the remnants of concrete structures, no glass in the buildings, nothing even scavengers can use.
The Filthy Claws clan is a barren wasteland.
Being back here, seeing his countryman and his fellow wolves, Ryu doesn’t remember why he wanted to be a part of the Silvercrest Regiment in the first place. Was he so filled with awe that he neglected to remember this is actually where he comes from? No wonder they hate him.
He is just like them.
The air blows, and the fresh scent of the dead hits his nostrils. Ryu almost gags, but he keeps marching on until he hits his encampment. The Silvercrest regiments are camped on the outskirts of the city, it was too easy to plan an ambush within the city walls. Micah and Michael clasp their hands when they meet, Micah stands nearly as tall as his father.
Michael swells with pride at the sight of his son donning the Silvercrest uniform. They disappear inside a large green military tent, with several other councilmen and sergeants following after them. The rest of them are split up, the Alphas, Betas, and Deltas room together, while Ryu is brought to his military tent far away from the rest. It’s fairly large and spacious, enough to fit a full-size cot and night table for his things. The sergeant gives him a quick once over, letting him know that when he has his heats, he cannot leave his tent until they were over. Such things would rile up the men.
Ryu knows the drill already, so he says nothing.
After he leaves, Ryu unpacks most of his belongings, thankful for the silence and the warm summer breeze. To some degree, he isn’t sure what to expect, but a frisson of excitement pulses through him. He thinks of his old friend, wondering if Kenyon ever survived the mines. Most wolves don’t, it is a hard grueling place that could cripple the toughest souls.
Ryu is barely done unpacking when he hears footsteps near his tent. He straightens up, brow furrowed as they start coming close. The flap of his ten opens and Micah strides in purposefully.
“What—”
Micah kisses him savagely.
Ryu gasps, his mouth is forcefully pried open as the White Sage fills the air. Micah is rough, demanding, cupping his face and jawline, forcing them closer. Almost as if he wants to devour him. Ryu moans, his heart swelling with a deep lingering passion.
It’s hot. Rough.
He might burst in flames with how plush and soft Micah’s mouth is, his teeth pull and yank on his bottom lip, before smoothing it over with his tongue. Ryu succumbs to the overwhelming and masculine power; he yields to it willingly.
Micah pulls away, panting harshly as if he might die too.
They stare at each other; Ryu feels himself falling into those black orbs. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
For what? Ryu doesn’t understand any of this. Why is Micah here? Isn’t he supposed to be going over war strategies with his father?
“About before—Deryn and Trmon—I should have said something.”
Ryu blinks slowly, his mind finally going back to that day in the armory. He bites his lip. If Micah did say something, it would have exposed them. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.” Micah grits
. “I want to—talk to you in public. I want to touch you in public.”
Then do it. He almost says but holds back. Who is he to tell Micah what to do? He is nothing. A nobody. Nothing more than a soldier, which isn’t as bad as being a servant. Micah is their Alpha. Ryu doesn’t have a say in these things. If Micah decided to never acknowledge him in public, Ryu would just have to live with it. No matter how much it hurt. He was willing to do that. If it meant keeping him close.
“I’m not mad,” Ryu lies. It’s okay. It is. He’ll just have to get used to it. Micah is going to be married soon anyway. “I heard Francesca’s father Berriston and Shamus from the Midnight Nightstalker’s would be joining us soon.”
Micah looks away guiltily. “It means nothing. I’ll break it off after everything is over.”
Something akin to hope blooms in his chest. Maybe Micah does care about him too?
“I—I came because I want you to be careful out there. Although, they are primitive in their weapons they have the numbers. We can easily be overrun so I don’t want you to do anything unnecessary. Stay close to me. I will have the sergeant bring you over once the battle starts.”
Ryu frowns. “I can fight—”
“I know—I just want you safe. That’s all.” Micah offers him a sad smile. “I don’t want you out of my sight. Also…I want to see you…regularly like before…. I found a place we can meet. It’s not far from here, a few miles out downwind. We can meet there when I’m not busy.”
“How—”
“I’ll come to get you. Or leave you notes.” Micah pauses . “We will go there together. That way we can be alone.”
Ryu’s heartbeats madly in his chest. Alone—with Micah? This seems different than it ever did before. Of course, they’ve been alone together many times. However, something about his voice and the way his eyes stare at him, makes him realize that things are different now. Micah wants them to be alone—together as a couple.
Ryu feels giddy, he nods hastily as Micah gives him one lasting kiss before he sneaks out of his tent. He sits down on his cot heavily, skin tinged a deep red.
Is this what love feels like?
Chapter 29
Ryu trembles on the battlefield. The Silvercrest Howlers stand in a triple line formation with three distinct ranks. The least seasoned wolves were at the front, behind them the principles, and lastly the veterans of combat. Although the majority of them are trained well, the newest recruits are oftentimes placed at the very front of the lines. This formation is used primarily to create a strong barrier around the Silvercrest Howlers Alpha and all the other nobles who intend to fight.
At the sides there are several large wolves, they guard the rear to make sure that the soldiers do not retreat in battle. The field is wide, barren, and vacant. Ryu can hardly see through the mist of fog in the morning light. He holds his semi-automatic tightly, keeping steady with his formation. Last-minute, he is pulled from the front lines and placed right next to Micah’s regiment in the middle. The triple line formation is made up of soldiers shooting semi-automatic weapons, the reason behind this is to destabilize the Filthy Claws if they decided to charge in their wolf forms.
Wolf fur is very thick, even the hardest of bullets would have trouble penetrating, but if a wolf was shot between the eyes or the underbelly they would be fatally wounded. The Silvercrest regiment trained all their soldiers to shoot with deadly purpose.
Although they were primitive in their fighting style the Filthy Claws had the numbers. If they were swarmed by several hundred wolves then it would become a big problem.
A bitter wind swept the countryside, the ground slick with dew. Ryu holds steady, heart caught in his throat as he sees the first wolves to breach the treelines. They are massive, standing well over eight feet, hulking mass of beast and flesh.
Their leader is larger than the rest, his size nearly rivaling Micah’s. He steps forward, his fur a deep rustic brown. Behind him, several other wolves emerge, the snarl loudly, lips pulling over razor-sharp fangs. Men of all ages begin to come out as well. They carry sticks, and large pipes, clearly no match for their semi-automatic weapons.
Those people won’t be a problem.
The wolves would be.
Luckily for them, the wolves were few in numbers. That means that they could easily be dispatched. They were armed and ready for battle. Without warning, the leader of the Filthy Claws charges forward, his massive claws tearing apart the earth in large chunks.
The Silvercrest Howlers hold firm.
“Fire!”
They shoot off several rounds of their semi-automatics. The wolves barely get several feet before they drop dead in front of them, hardly making it across the field. The acrid smell of gunpowder fills his nostrils, and his heart twists painfully as the men charge forward, they cry loudly and attack with all their might. However, their fate is the same and they barely make it a few feet before they all drop dead.
It’s almost like suicide.
Ryu’s eyes sting. His clan’s men would rather die than live under the Silvercrest Clan. The whole battle is extremely bloody, but over in a matter of seconds. The men cheer loudly, pumping their guns in the air in victory.
Micah catches his eyes, then turns away, his regiment hot on his heels as they leave the battlefield. It’s a long trek back to camp, meanwhile, Ryu thinks deeply about what just happened. It disturbs him deeply. These fine young men, sent to their death over what? Why haven’t the Silvercrest tried to negotiate? Why must their occupation be so ruthless?
On his way back to his tent, he can feel their eyes on him, watching his every move. Ryu ignores it and opens the flap of the tent only to stop when he sees a note waiting for him on his night table.
Ryu reads it quickly, then puts his weapons away before leaving once again.
-
Micah waits for him near the ravine.
It’s a deep groove, with the surrounding trees nobody would be likely to see them down here. Close to the tree is a small cave, one that could easily fit a few people or more inside. The minute he is enough, Micah draws him into a deep kiss. Ryu breathes harshly, eyes closed in loving ecstasy and wonder, his body flares with heat.
“Micah,” Ryu says breathlessly.
He smiles. “I love when you say my name. You—I love it.”
They part for a moment, both of them trying to calm down. “What happened back there?” Ryu asks. “How come the battle was over so quickly?”
Micah shrugs, his hands find Ryu’s hips and he holds him gently. “The battles are usually like this. The reason they’ve gotten out of hand is that they’ve become more and more frequent. Before it was a few men, now they’ve grown to a few hundred men. It’s starting to become troublesome.”
Ryu ponders that a moment. “Their leader?”
“Nobody knows,” Micah says. “Not even to this day. We’ve captured them and they still can’t tell us who he is. He is the one recruiting them.”
“But the negotiations—”
“There are none. The Filthy Claws will not yield. The occupation several years ago was a failure, too many lives were lost, so much of the goods and services were not evenly distributed. They resented working in the mines and the fields, while the soldiers reaped all the benefits. It’s hard to persuade them to do that again. If we could meet with their leader, I am sure Father could convince them. The people have become riotous, they torch their cities and kill their people, all the crops have shriveled up and died. They sense a famine is coming. We are doing all we can to bring food and supplies, but these rebels make everything difficult.” Micah sighs. “Come sit with me.”