3. Zeke

I cannot believe Cillian took me out of the Battalion for this. Pointless days on the road with this spoiled little princess and I’m still confused. It burns to know my Alpha thinks I’m fucked up.

But then, who wouldn’t be? 

It’s made me a better, sharper fighter. Nobody was complaining while I was ripping out throats and ending skirmishes. 

Nobody has killed more of Phillipe’s men than me. Now I’m sitting around babysitting someone who could be his damn spy. Just because she has those large, wide eyes, it doesn’t mean she is trustworthy. 

This whole time I thought Cill had my back. My Alpha, my kin. He took the pack to the brink of collapse whilst trying to get his wolf back and I supported him all the way. Even after Franz. 

/No. Something else. Quick./ Rush hissed as my fists clench, itching for something to hit. Anything to replace the sickening lurch in my guts.

We don’t think about Franz that way. Not in the dark when my vision can distort so easily. Glossy puddles quickly become slick pools of blood if I don't keep my guard up.

In the pouring rain, Freya’s curls reduced to sopping tendrils, Cillian had bellowed at me. “What would Franz do? He’d help this girl and not say another word about it!” 

I’d had to allow my claws to puncture my palms. It was the only way to avoid taking a swipe at the red-haired man I love like a brother.

It’s ridiculous of my Alpha to think I can possibly live up to Franz. Orders like that don’t spur me on. They only remind me I am but a shadow. The trail ends of a shooting star. As part of a double act I used to entertain, flirt and adventure my way around town. We had a hell of a time. That’s over now.

It doesn’t help that Zena keeps popping up. She just happens to find our base camp for a chat, then a few hours later Freya arrives? Zena knew she was coming. 

The black haired pouting Fate, the one who claims she had no idea the massacre at the ceremony was going to happen? Yet she managed to conveniently avoid harm whilst so many others died. I hate the fact she saw me at my most broken.

Forgive me for rolling my eyes. Flirting with anything with a cock Zena lives a life of casual carnage. Franz thought she was some kind of walking miracle. He should have stayed clear. 

So in the camp when I heard her calling for me, her long black hair falling down around her leather jacket I kept walking. She has the curves, the pout, the attitude, everything I’d take a run at normally.

“Zeke! We need to sort this out!” 

“I’m busy,” I growled, rooting around in a truck for supplies. “Go see Cillian.”

“I’ve not come to see him, I’m here to talk to you,” her voice lacked its usual sassy confidence. Good. Zena could experience the real world, where people don’t think you’re some kind of saint because you can drop a few vague hints about the future.

Slamming the truck door I made sure she couldn’t reach me. I don’t want her touching me and revealing my Fate. “What is it?”

“I need you to watch out for my brother.”

“Your brother? Why the hell am I going to see him?”

“He’s called Finn, he still lives with my parents down in Wodness Brook. When you end up there, just…just don’t kill him okay.”

My face screwed up, “Why the hell would I go there, what have you seen?”

She raised her hands, her face pale and serious. Her grey eyes of hers stared back at me with something resembling pain. I remember thinking her iris was exactly the same colour as the cloudy sky above. “Just fragments but I know you two end up in a fight.”

Franz had told me about Finn. He was built like a tank and had an ex-assassin for a father. I doubted I’d be taking my chances on that lump anytime soon. 

“The only way I would kill your brother, is if he turned traitor on his pack. Then there's nothing that will spare him.”

She flinched, which I’m guessing is never a good sign for a Fate before walking away. So the fact that just a few days later I’m looking at the giant, miserable bastard does not bode well for me. 

He is all grey eyes and snarls, like an untamed pitbull. Luna too-good-for-a-village Freya couldn’t take her hazel eyes off him. Well, good luck with that one.  

Bella Penkov, Finn's mother and famed healer, shows me to a plain, cool room. I fall asleep to the calming scent of ginseng and the clucking racket of hens. It is dark when I wake but I feel as fresh as a daisy. 

Rush pushes forward, anxious to check on our mission. Just because I disagree, it doesn't mean I would ever disobey an order from Cillian. 

/Who is guarding her?/ Those wolfsbane wielding bastards of Rising Star might have tracked my route. If they have then we need to be ready.

Stretching, I drag on a white vest. The clothes I travelled in were drying near the fireplace. Grey sweats that I have to vigorously tie around my hips are also waiting for me. 

Outside glittering stars cascade across the sky. It’s actually pretty beautiful around here. 

/Back to it, come on Zeke/ Rush urged.

I head towards the barn Freya has been offered. No longer a workshop, it has an airy mezzanine split. A huge four poster bed with white netting is visible from the jutting second level. 

Hand carved furniture, chairs, wardrobes from a deep warm oak cover the ground floor. Finn had made himself quite the home here. Shame, I was half hoping Freya was sleeping on shitty hay. That would have really made her eyes widen.

Two seconds after I stepped inside Lucien looked down over the balcony. /Good, he’s guarding her/ Rush grumbled. “She’s asleep,” he mouthed.

I gave him a thumbs up. “Finn?”

“Workshop,” Lucien silently mouthed. Leaving him to his duty I padded down the path. A soft orange glow came from another huge barn building. I lingered outside, eavesdropping on the conversation. 

A low voice, laced with savagery growled. “I’m not a fucking babysitter.” Well, that was Finn uncovered.

“You know war is coming. I’m just grateful Beta Zeke hasn’t come to conscript you and the other village men to fight!”

Bella’s voice was warm and calm. She reminded me of my own mother. My father gave Franz and I his dark eyes and olive-skin, but my mother, Violet, was a similarly gentle soul, her green eyes still upturned like a cats, except she now had laughter lines. She blamed my father for that, a fact he always grinned at victoriously. 

“Not yet they haven’t,” Finn replied with venom. I could just make out the pair in the dim light of the workshop. His huge shoulders jerked as he rubbed oil deep into the wood grain to bring up the chestnut brown colouring.  “Conscription will come when they need disposable shields, they won’t want to waste their precious Beta’s for the really dirty battles.”

“Well then this is your chance. Luna Freya needs guarding, it will keep you safe!”

“I won’t be missing my fights-”

“Finn, please Don’t tell me you’re still doing that.”

“Let’s not go through that again, it pays ten times more than working in this place” he muttered. I wonder what fights he is taking part in. Under Cillian’s father, fighting to the death was outlawed. 

Out in these backwaters, limited Beta monitoring, who knew what people like Finn could gamble against? 

Despite everything, I warmed to him a bit. My father wanted us to work in the lumber mill outside of Cragstone. Franz and I both decided to train as Beta Warriors instead. We were too lighthearted to take interest in something as serious as business. 

Plus Finn has fucking Zena for a sister. Unlucky.

I leave them to it and walk away back to Freya’s barn. I love how dark it is, the night consumes everything. I can barely put one foot in front of the other. 

/Lets disappear for a bit./

Fuck it, I shrug off my sweatpants and vest and shift. Rush thanks me a thousand times over as we tear through the forest. There are no memories of Franz here. I’m held together by tattered threads that just about keep me functional. 

It is dawn when I return. Padding past a yawning Finn with a curt nod, he mutters, “I put your clothes inside,” gesturing with his thumb. 

Shifting back to human form I walk across warm wooden floorboards Only to hear a stifled squeak. Fuck. Ignoring the scent of orange blossom invading the wood and whiskey harmony, I simply growl, “what?”

“You’re in my room,” came a haughty little voice. 

Grabbing the grey sweats but not putting them on I turn around, my bare feet thudding on the boards. 

I find a pair of huge hazel eyes scowling up at me. A tightly wrapped white towel clings to her curves. I can see her eyes clearly because that wild forest of dark brown ringlets was tied up in another towel. With all those curls out of the way, her hgh cheekbones and pouty little lips are quite something.

I had banked on her still asleep. She keeps her furious eyes trained on mine, not allowing them to wander down for a millisecond. I allow my hands to hang by my sides, every sinew on show.

“You’re trailing mud in," she snapped. I hadn’t expected that.

“I haven’t. But if you see any mud you’d better clean it up,” I replied.

Silence descends, her face completely immovable, refusing to yield an inch. I stand tall, proud. I’m fucking built. Long hours in the lumberyard, all other hours spent fighting and training means there isn’t a muscle on me that hasn’t been defined and enhanced. 

So she can try not to look, but she’s going to. Women always want a look. 

Then they try for more. Me? After the past couple of months you might as well considered me fucking castrated. My pulse thuds for no other reason than to rip out her mate's heart.

I watch her slender throat bob, meaning her mouth has dried up and she wants her next point to come out super haughty. Her chest is reddening above the white towel hemline.  

“Get out.”

I say nothing, just shrug on the sweatpants. As irritatingly slow as possible. Then I drag on my vest, stretching upwards, knowing my abs and chiselled ribs are being keenly studied by her. Except when the vest finally slips over my face, she has already left. 

Maybe I don’t know all women then. I can’t help but smirk at her princess attitude. She’s going to find it hard here. Which reminds me. I quickly turn and head out of the barn.

"Aren't you meant to be guarding her?" I snap at Finn as he leans against the wooden barn wall, making him jump. 

"Yeah she said she was getting a shower," he shrugged, fiddling with a piece of wood and a penknife.

"Well so much for having eyes on her at all times then," I growled. “You think an assassin won’t break her neck in the shower?” 

“I’m not watching her in the shower you pervert.”

I lick my lips and hold back Rush from shifting. Instead, trying to control the rage bubbling in my stomach,  I drop my voice lower, firmer than before and step towards him. “Stand outside the bathroom door you fucking idiot. If the noise changes, if you hear anything strange such as an intruder you can react. Do you really not understand what your Alpha is asking of you?”

Finn glares at me a beat too long. So he’s big, tall and built like two fridges welded together, maybe Zena was right to worry about us fighting. Freya is a precious cargo whether I like it or not.

Not only does she have that precious amulet, but Alpha Phillipe will want her back. He is a man of control. Without his jewelled protection he is vulnerable, his mate vanishing will be damaging to the morale in his pack. The idea someone could defy him will eat away at him. There is no way they won’t track her down.

“I am a Beta Warrior of Shadowlands. My orders will be respected.”

 I feel my fists itch to clench, ready to prove a point before Finn puffs out his cheeks and heads inside. 

"I’M GETTING DRESSED!" screeches out across the courtyard.

“Fuck’s sake!” I hear the sound of his huge body flopping into one of those big armchairs.

Strolling towards Lucien's cabin for breakfast,  I can't help another smirk creasing my face. PIssing them both in under two minutes. Excellent.