Chapter 8 – The Peacekeeper

Two scores. I needed to add another one to my victory chariot to ensure I was strong enough when the right time arrived to stake my claim over this pack.

Time to head to the Southern Border. I had to pick up where Vance failed to come to an agreement with those rogues. When I arrived at the battlefield, it felt like a place where the world had simply given up.

. The air was a stagnant mix of wet pine needles and the metallic tang of old blood that seemed to have leached into the very soil over decades of skirmishes. Out here, the polished marble of the packhouse felt like a fever dream. This was the reality of the Eclipse Star, mud, grey skies, and the constant, low-frequency sizzle of a threat that never slept.

Korgan, that filthy rogue leader, showed up from nowhere and stood ten feet away from me. He was a mountain of a man, built of scars and unwashed leather, his chest heaving with a restlessness that suggested he was seconds away from shifting and ending this conversation with his teeth.

He looked at me with a sneer that didn't just target my position as Luna, but my very existence. He looked at the four guards I’d brought, good but tired men, and let out a short, ugly laugh.

“That Vance must be truly desperate if he’s sending his woman out here to do the talking,” Korgan mocked with a disgusted gaze over my being.

He spat a thick glob of phlegm into the mud, shifted his eyes toward the dense brush.

I knew what was in there. I could hear the faint rustle of clothing, the rhythmic, heavy breathing of at least twenty more of his men.

“Or maybe he’s just bored of you. Is that it, Amani? He found a new, shiny toy in a cage and sent his old mate out here to get slaughtered so he wouldn't have to deal with the paperwork?”

The mention of the rogue girl, the so-called mate, sent a flash of heat through my chest, but I didn’t let it reach my face. I kept my breathing steady, my fingers hooked loosely into my belt, looking every bit like a woman who was bored rather than a woman who was outnumbered. I was counting the distance between us. He was too far for a sudden lunge, but close enough that I could see the grime under his fingernails.

“Vance’s personal life isn’t your concern, Korgan. The valley is,” I hissed. “You’ve been creeping closer to our food stores for three weeks. You take your people to the northern pass, the one with the thin deer and the bitter winds, or I stop the grain shipments we’ve been ‘losing’ to your camps. And I won't just stop the food. I’ll start sending hunting parties. And I won't tell them to bring back prisoners for the Council to fret over.”

Korgan’s grin widened, showing teeth that were yellowed and chipped from a lifetime of raw meat and violence.

“I think I’ll just take the valley and the grain. And maybe I’ll keep the Luna as a reminder of how easily the Eclipse Star folded once its Alpha stopped looking at the borders and started looking at a rogue’s legs.”

He shifted his weight, his muscles bunching under his vest, and the brush behind him erupted into a symphony of low growls and shifting feet. My guards stepped forward in unison, ready to shift and start whatever this stinky wolf was looking for, their faces tight with the grim realization that we were likely about to die in an unnamed clearing because our Alpha was too busy being ‘fated’ to do his job.

“That’s a lot of talk for a man whose throat is currently in my sights,” a voice drawled from the side.

It wasn’t a shout.

It was a low, almost bored sound that somehow managed to vibrate through the tension. A man stepped out from behind a massive, moss-covered trunk, moving with a silence that was utterly wrong for his size. He looked like he’d been walking for weeks, his boots were caked in dust, his clothes were worn and dark but the way he stood told a story of absolute, unshakeable power. He didn't look like a traveler, he looked like a landslide that had decided to take human form for an afternoon.

Korgan went stiff.

The rustling in the bushes stopped instantly, replaced by a sudden silence.

“You,” the rogue whispered, his voice losing its edge and turning into something thin and brittle.

“Me,” the stranger replied.

He pushed back a dark hood, revealing a face of sharp, hard angles and eyes that looked like poured gold in the dim light of the forest. He didn't even bother to draw a weapon. He just leaned against a tree, looking at Korgan like he was a minor inconvenience.

“The Luna made a fair offer. You take the north pass, or you stay here forever. Six feet under. It’s a simple choice, even for a mutt like you.”

I watched him, a strange, itchy feeling crawling up my spine.

There was something in the curve of his jaw, the arrogant tilt of his head, that felt like a half-remembered dream. It felt like a memory of a boy, of blood on my hands, and a promise I hadn't thought about in over a decade. But that was impossible. That boy would be somewhere else by now. Beyond that, I was certain I had seen this face, not just as a boy, but exactly as he appeared now. My mind couldn’t summon the date or place, so I let it be.

Korgan didn't hesitate.

He gave a sharp whistle, and within seconds, the shadows in the brush retreated. The rogues vanished back into the forest as if the trees had swallowed them whole. The clearing was suddenly, unnervingly quiet, save for the dripping of water from the leaves.

I let out a slow, relieved breath, my heart finally beginning to drop its pace. I turned to the stranger, my eyes narrowing.

“You have a knack for timing. Who are you, and why are you playing hero on my border?”

He gave me a small, dark smile that didn't feel at all like a stranger’s.

“I’m a man who doesn't like lopsided fights. And I’m certainly not a hero. Call me Menelik.”

“Well, Menelik, you just saved us from a bloodbath. The Eclipse Star owes you. If you need a meal or a dry place to sleep, the packhouse is a few miles east.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted as his gaze locked onto mine.

He looked at me for a long, heavy beat, searching for something in my expression that I couldn't provide.

“You have enough problems inside your own walls, Amani. You don't need another mouth to feed. Go back. The wind is changing, and the smell of rot is coming from inside your house. You don’t want to be caught out here when the real storm breaks.”

I frowned, the name Menelik echoing in my mind like a bell.

I knew I’d heard it. I knew I’d said it.

 “Safe travels,” I said, turning to head toward home.

I shifted into my wolf, Sara, but the feeling of those golden eyes on my back didn't fade until the packhouse towers came into view.