006 | THE WINTERPAW WARRIOR PACK

The cart, pulled by four Omega wolves, groaned to a halt. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, eyeing the snow-capped mountains that surrounded us with disdain. No matter what expression I schooled my face into, I couldn’t deny the rapid thumping of my heart.

My mate was close. 

I steeled myself, locking my heart away. I’d shoved down my feelings the second I’d left Blue Moon, holding back tears as my friends and family had held me. Some of the pack had glowered at me from afar, unhappy with my decision even though I had made it for them. They could hate me for leaving; I didn’t care what they thought of me for coming here, so long as they were safe.

“We’re here, Young Luna,” said the Warrior Wolf to my left. I’d sworn that I’d not needed such protection, by my parents had insisted that the brawny man beside me, Logan, should accompany me. Though my arrival was agreed upon and we had been granted safe passage through their territory, my parents had remained doubtful about Winterpaw’s true intentions. 

Alpha Ares was renowned for being cold and calculating and cruel – so we’d all been more than a little surprised that he had accepted our offer of peace in exchange for my coming to their land. I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, but I did not imagine I’d be forced to spend much time in his company. I hoped I wouldn’t, anyway. I quickly stomped down on the hope before it could blossom. Hoping about that would inevitably lead to me hoping that my fated mate wasn’t a complete psycho which, from what I knew of Winterpaw, was pretty damn unlikely.

I frowned. “We can’t be.” I twisted in my seat. There was nothing but cloud cover and craggy mountains as far as I could see. My new colour vision was practically pointless here, when everything was painted in shades of white and grey in all directions.

Logan pointed to one of the mountains before us. “According to the map your mother gave me, that’s their Pack House.”

I squinted through the fog, trying to find anything familiar in this barren landscape. “There!” I leapt up and pointed at a ramshackle stone hut, sending the cart wobbling. My smile died immediately on my lips. “That can’t be their Pack House, can it?”

He shook his head, pulling out the map. His brow pinched as he compared the drawn landscape to the terrain we were in. “I think that’s… The Warrior Wolf housing. The Pack House is just beyond it – carved from that mountain.”

“They live in a mountain?” That was kind of cool. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone.

Logan shrugged. I started gathering my things. “Leave them with me, Young Luna. I’ll see that they’re taken to your room.”

I burrowed deeper into my cloak before hopping down into the snow. I’d known it would be cold here, but nothing could have prepared me for the bite in the air and the constant urge to curl my hands into balls just to keep my fingers attached. My toes had gone numb so long ago I’d forgotten I had any.

“Thank you, Logan.” 

“Here.” He leant over the side of the cart and pressed the map into my hands. “To help you get your bearings.” His lips twitched. “And an escape route in case they try anything.” He squeezed my hand before leaning back into the cart. “Good luck, Young Luna.”

I tucked the map into the folds of my cloak. And with that I marched off into the mountains to face my gravest enemy yet.

– – – 

I stood at the bottom of the mountain and stared up at it, excitement tingling in my frozen fingers and nerves burrowing a hole down the centre of my chest. Windows had been sliced into the mountainside, blunt holes covered with warped glass that didn’t look like it had been made to fit those windows. There were no flowers, no ivy, no rolling fields or farmland. I shuddered into my cloak, wishing I’d worn more than a thin leather jacket and sweatshirt beneath it. Clothes made in Blue Moon weren’t built for the cold like this; the cloak had been tailored especially for the occasion and by the stars, I was grateful for it.

It was harder to ignore the call of my mate here; without realising it I’d lifted my hand and knocked, the sound echoing strangely through the cavernous mountain peaks that rose and fell around me, ringing through my right ear like waves lapping against the shore.

The door swung open instantly. It was a strange thing, carved from the mountain itself and slotted with a thin plank of wood that didn’t quite fit. It had a suspiciously gaudy door handle that gleamed faintly in the dull light, made from what looked like real gold in the shape of a wolf’s head. But the woman in the doorway drew my attention away from wondering how they could afford that but not proper doors and windows that would surely do a better job of keeping out the blizzard than ramshackle glass and wood that looked hundreds of years old.

Her thin upper lip curled as she surveyed me. Like the mountains, she was a waste of my colour vision: her skin was paler than any I’d ever seen, having grown up in a warm climate where brown skin was the norm. She looked like a ghost, with white-blonde hair wound in a coil at the nape of her neck and glassy blue eyes staring back at me with scorn. She looked skeletal beneath her fur-lined cloak, which she pulled tighter around herself when she caught me looking.

She said nothing, so I went to grip her forearm as was customary between allies in Blue Moon. She shied back from me, her brows pinching together in a deep-set frown.

“Haile Seren Blue,” she spat. I tried not to take offence at the blatant lack of respect in her tone and in her lack of addressing me by my proper title, but I let it slide. I was here to forge peace, not war. “You’re here.”

What did she want me to say to that? Yes I am? I remained silent, cocking an eyebrow at her as I waited for her to elaborate. 

She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Follow me.”

I gave the wilderness behind me one last, desperate look, wondering if staying in one of the Warrior Wolves’ little stone huts would be preferable to going anywhere with her, but I puffed out my chest and stepped inside. The door slammed behind me with a sense of finality. 

Shoving down my flush of anger at the entitled Omega that trotted off ahead, I put on my sweetest voice and asked, “What’s your name?” I had to start making peace somewhere, and the Omegas would talk. 

“Luezza Scar.” She put inflection on her surname like it would mean something to me, but it didn’t. She clicked her tongue again – an annoying habit that was already making my hackles rise – and added, “You’ll be staying in the guest wing.”

“Your Pack House is very impressive.” I tried to sidle up alongside her, but she sped up again. I’d barely glanced around at the grey walls, lit intermittently by flickering torches. The heat of their fire was a welcome reprieve from the bitter chill of the air that hung in the darkness between them.

We took a sharp left. Clanging and clattering came through the wall, pots and pans banging against one another. Luezza hadn’t deigned to reply to me, so I tried again. “Is that your kitchen?”

“Yes.” Her tone was clipped.

I sighed. It was like getting blood out of a stone. Actually, that would probably be easier.

The hallway curved around into a set of stairs, carved from the rock itself. There were no decorations, save for a few animal bones that had been hung above the torches. I traipsed up them behind her, watching as her bun wobbled and bounced with every step. It was the most animated I’d seen her. 

I counted the steps as we went as a precaution. Who knew what the Winterpaw wolves might do to me? If I ended up blindfolded, I wanted to know where I was. I painted out a mental map of where we’d been and hoped I could remember it well enough to draw it once I was reunited with my belongings.

Even as I prepared for the worst, my heart lurched at the possibility of bumping into my mate. He was here somewhere, pining for me as I was for him –

I winced, shutting that idea down as quickly as it arose. He hated me and I hated him. I was here for my pack and nothing more.

Luezza led me off the staircase at the first floor we came to, though it continued to curl up high above our heads. A thin walkway stretched out ahead of us, appearing identical to the one on the floor beneath. 

“This is your room.”

I frowned. “Where’s the doorway?”

Luezza clucked her tongue. I clenched my hands into fists, wishing I’d lost more than half my hearing if it meant I never had to hear that irritating sound again. “Beneath the sconce.”

I trailed her gaze to the light overhead and followed it down to a thin crack in the stone. How many doorways had we passed without my noticing them? 

With a tight sigh Luezza pushed open the door. It groaned, the weight of it pushing back against her thin frame. “The guest chambers are situated on the Omega’s floor, so that we can assist you with anything you may need at any time of the night or day.”

“Thank you,” I said, drifting in behind her. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of my new room. It was horrible.

There was no window to let in daylight and it smelt of damp. A single torch hung on the wall lit the small space, highlighting a bed that looked too short and skinny for my tall, amply muscled body. My bags had already been piled at the foot of the bed, but there was nowhere to put anything in them. I’d hoped for a small writing desk or a shelf, but there was just the bed with its lumpy mattress and a tattered blanket atop it. There weren’t even any pillows.

Tears pricked at my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I would not break in front of this woman. I would not give her that satisfaction.

For Blue Moon, I told myself. That was enough to straighten my spine and slap a smile on my face.

“Dinner is in half an hour,” she said curtly. My traitorous heart leapt – my mate would be at dinner, he had to be. On instinct my palms started sweating, regardless of the frosty temperature. “You shall be expected to wear the gown hung on the back of the door. Do you require help dressing?”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, thank you. That will be all, Luezza.”

She nodded and left without another word. Grimacing, I followed her to the door and closed it, turning to face the gown slowly. I knew in my gut that I would hate the outfit that had been chosen for me. Feeling like I deserved to be a little over-dramatic, I closed my eyes as I faced the dress.

I opened them with a flourish. Oh. It wasn’t completely awful – just different to anything I’d normally wear at home. It was made of deep green silk and hung beneath a furred cloak with a pelt wound around the shoulders. I brushed my fingertips over it, marvelling at the way the firelight splayed across the midriff. 

Blue eyes tracked me. I swallowed hard, wondering if my mate had seen my eyes, too, and had requested a green gown to match them. That was silly, so I forced away any daydreams about blue-eyed men that were too handsome for their own good and slipped out of my clothes and into the gown. The cloak was heavy with the pelt, but it kept the biting cold at bay.

There was no mirror in the room, so I raked my fingers through my curly hair and braided it quickly so it hung down my back. That was a practical measure – if a fight broke out I wanted to be able to see, and a veil of long dark hair would only get in my way. It was hard to remember that my being here was peaceful. I was on edge, awaiting the ring and clash of wolven claws at any moment.

With no window I had no way to tell how long it had been since Luezza had left, and I doubted she’d return to escort me to dinner. Guessing it had been at least twenty minutes I smoothed my hands over the silky gown, gave myself one last pep talk, and stepped out into the hall.

Only to be pushed back immediately by two huge male hands. My heart swelled – was this my mate? – but I knew, deep down, that he was not. 

I wasn’t short by any means, but he towered over me as he shoved me back into my room. He was a brute of a man, all solid muscle and a swinging jaw that was hard as stone. His skin was pale, almost gleaming white across his cheekbones, and bright blue eyes – the wrong blue eyes – met mine with a ravenous glint.

“Get inside,” he hissed. 

I wanted to fight back, but how could I? I bit my lip and allowed him to press me against the rocky wall, closing the door with a soft thud behind him. 

“Who are you?” Fear made my heart pulse, but I didn’t let it show. I met his gaze with defiance, jutting my chin up and out.

“Your doom,” he whispered, a slow smile pulling at his lips.

And then I saw the knife in his hand.