The Veilrend Pack

Chapter 6

The Veilrend Pack

(Renrik’s POV)

The wound behind my shoulder was deeper than I thought. The silver had poisoned my skin, resisting my natural healing. The burned flesh stung as I slowly made my way back to my pack, replaying the fight over and over in my head, trying to pinpoint where I had fucked up.

I should never have given the demon the opportunity to get to Seraphine. If I had been quicker, stronger, I could have smashed the bastard’s head in before he thought about using her as a hostage.

He surprised me with how slippery he was. He moved like a snake, with elegant twists and rapid maneuvers. He should have had some demonic powers, but aside from summoning that blasted silver knife, I didn’t see anything that he was truly capable of. I should have been able to kill him for underestimating me… but instead, I let him escape with my Luna.

And he wasn’t an idiot. He knows better than to make the same mistake twice. I have to prepare for the next time we face off, because I knew he’d be doing the same.

The ancient stone wall enclosing my little village came into view. It was strictly Werewolf territory. No demons. No humans. No fairies, or witches, or vampires, or whatever the fuck else might lurk beyond our borders. Just werewolves. We were fortunate enough to have protection etched into the wall to shield us from unwanted visitors.

That thin veil of enchantment earned us our pack name; The Veilrend.

Sat on the wall was a figure with a mess of brown curls. Bright, orange eyes fixed on me and I could finally make out the familiar, welcome face of my second in command. My Beta, Kenton Shadowclaw.

“The love-struck knight returns!” Kenton announced before leaping from his perch. Even in his humanoid form, he was agile and dexterous.

His friendly smile faltered when he saw my slumping posture. I was dragging myself up the hill to him; not only because my body was injured, but because my pride was limping home, too. When I made it to my friend, I shifted into my human persona.

Kenton was six-foot-one. I was much taller. He had a slender body, reminiscent of an athlete. I was bulkier; more muscle and more command to my presence. We both had our strengths and weaknesses, and because of them, we complimented each other perfectly.

“You look rough, buddy,” Kenton noted, giving me a half-smile.

“Still better looking than you,” I growled back.

Kenton scoffed. “You wish,” he said, flicking his brown curls out of his pretty-boy face. “But seriously, your shoulder looks screwed up. C’mon, let's sort you out.”

He turned to lead the way into Veilrend, but I gripped his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks. “Kent,”

“Ren?”

“I fucked up.”

Kenton didn’t reply straight away. He picked his words carefully, always diplomatic and thoughtful. One of his strengths. One of my weaknesses.

“Look,” he breathed. “I have a shit-ton of questions, but they can wait until you’ve seen a doctor. Obviously, something went wrong. You reek of, like, rotten eggs or something, but there’s no point in us talking while you’re angry and sulking and bleeding. Let’s go.”

“We should go round the back so no-one sees that I’m injured,” I suggested.

Kenton rolled his eyes. “Now’s not the time to be worrying about your ‘tough-guy’ image,”

“Kent,” I barked, not in the mood for his jokes. “You know why they shouldn’t see me like this.” I was the status symbol for the pack. An unrelenting force that no other wolf in Veilrend had managed to even scratch. For them to see a deep gash in my shoulder…

“Right,” Kenton’s frown deepened. “We don’t want the others to panic.”

~*~*~

“That should do for now,” Doctor Nyxson packed away most of her equipment, bar a small bottle.

I gave the gauze on my shoulder a onceover. Happy with her work, I went ahead and pulled a fresh, black t-shirt over my chest, courtesy of my brother, Roderick.

“I’ll change the bandage in two days if it hasn’t healed by then, but if it starts to bleed or ooze, let me know and I’ll change it sooner.”

“Thanks, Doctor Nyxson,” I gave her a weak smile, but my kindness was met with a glare from her.

“Just call me ‘Yvonne’, Renrik. I’m going to be your sister-in-law in three months. You don’t have to be so formal with me.”

“You’re on the clock,” I muttered lazily.

“If I was, we’d be in my clinic right now. Not in your bloody guestroom. Call me ‘Yvonne’.”

“You’re in my guestroom for the sake of patient confidentiality, Doctor Nyxson. I had to pick someone I could trust, and who better than my brother’s, beautiful, bride-to-be?” It wasn’t that I disliked Yvonne, I thought she was a great fit for Roderick. However, she pushed my buttons. She was a bit too comfortable in a position of power, probably thinking that while I remained unbonded, she needed to step up as a temporary Luna.

Yvonne didn’t reply. She picked up the bottle she'd left out. Her dark-green eyes brimmed with stern warning as she looked at me. “This is to be taken twice a day. Once in the morning and once before bed. Don’t skip it. It's to make sure there are no lasting effects of the silver in your blood.” Out came that motherly tone of hers, despite being a year younger than me. Although she did look older than twenty-two.

I took the bottle with a curt nod. “Understood. Thanks. Send my brother and Kenton in on your way out, would you?”

“Of course, Alpha Duskborne,” she mocked me. A little payback for refusing to call her Yvonne while she treated me, but I let it slide. I wasn't in the mood to chastise her, and it would only result in an argument between me and my brother.

I saw her kiss Roderick in the doorway as she left. Her cropped, purple hair was a nice match against his onyx locks, much like my own.

It got me thinking about Seraphine. Her hair was almost white, kissed by the Moon Goddess herself. Seraphine was smaller than Yvonne, almost fragile-looking. A part of me worried that I’d shatter Seraphine if I mated with her.

I closed my eyes and recalled her scent. It was a powerful, intoxicating aroma. A dash of vanilla that drowned out even the revolting stink of the demon. I wanted so desperately to hold her against me, to feel that soft, pale skin against my sour scars.

I wanted to protect her. Even if she rejected me in the end or ran away; I needed to set her free… 

“Take care, my Moonbeam,” Roderick whispered to his fiancée, and I spotted Kenton gagging animatedly in the background.

Yvonne shoved past Beta Kenton and grumbled at him, “You’re such a child.”

I waited until the door was shut and I could hear her footsteps fade away down the hall. The Beta and Gamma wolves turned to me with grave expressions. Kenton and Roderick wanted answers and I wasn’t going to keep secrets from either of them.

“You fought a demon, didn’t you?” Roderick got straight to the point, taking off his glasses to clean the lens on his crisp, white shirt. “The stench is all over you.”

“Is that what it is?” Kenton’s eyes widened. “The rotten egg smell? It’s what demons smell like?”

“Sulfur,” I explained. “It’s similar to a rotten smell, yeah. And yes, Roderick. I encountered a demon.”

The glasses were back on his nose, slightly magnifying those narrow, innocent, blue eyes of his. Roderick was someone else I wanted to protect. My delicate little brother, with such a slender frame and a slight limp he’d been born with.

But there was a bark to his voice; a commanding strength to it that I all too often forgot existed. He locked eyes with me and asked in that very tone,

“Was it the one who killed Dad?”