Wolf pack, p.11
Wolf Pack, page 11
“I assure you that isn’t true. And don’t worry. Titus tells me things, but he doesn’t blabber to the whole world. He and I have a special bond.”
“But it isn’t father-daughter, is it?” His boldness surprised him. Maybe it helped that he couldn’t see her, almost as if she weren’t real.
“Of course Titus is my father.” No hesitation. “My mother died when I was very young, and he raised me virtually on his own.” Her tone was cold with offense, but for some reason Ferth imagined a mocking smile beneath the covering.
“Please forgive my rudeness.”
“Done.”
A server handed Ferth a heaping plate of eggs, greens, and flatbread as Titus’s voice blanketed the tent.
“Reinforcements are three days out. I am confident they will arrive before another attack from Skotar, but we need more soldiers. We saw yesterday how important it is to maintain this border. Raja Darius has agreed to lead the return trip to Mitera. Having seen our struggle firsthand, he can instruct and coordinate the effort for more troops.”
Raja Darius sat rod-straight in his chair, the opposite form of Captain Titus reclining in his bed, but both men had an air of leadership and poise Ferth wished to emulate.
“After the aerial attack on King Andras,” Raja Darius said, “I think it wise to travel, with sufficient numbers, to Mitera. The Dracos are watching.”
“And Imanna will be traveling as well,” Titus said. “I’d like a full guard circle. Two hewan sets and a dozen soldiers. The travel will be fast and hard.”
Ferth’s mother was in Mitera. “Captain Titus, sir.” He cringed inwardly at his interruption. He was needed here to fight, but he needed to see her before he died. He still had Cal’s last words to Mira burning a hole in his pocket. “I’d like to volunteer.”
He felt Shale’s eyes on him. Did she think he was a coward who wished to run from battle? Hide from his past? Did she remember Cal’s words about their mother?
Titus studied Ferth, as if he could see the hidden desires.
“Granted.”
Tears pressed behind Ferth’s eyes, but he forced them back and kept his face blank. He would see her. He was going to his human mother.
“I’d like to volunteer as well,” Shale said.
Ferth jerked his gaze to her, hope swelling. She threw him a brief glance before turning her focus on Titus.
“I promised you freedom, Suza, but I beg you to stay,” Titus said.
Suza? That name again. Had she changed her name and not told him? The hope he’d felt at being near her on the road to Mitera dribbled away.
“You’re needed here,” the captain said. “You’re too valuable with the calls. Even if we can’t use them again as we did, you can interpret the enemy signals. When Xandra is strong enough, we need her to scout.”
Ferth glanced over the few other hewans in the army that were present: a python, a monkey, a spider, a badger, a panther. Xandra and Ipsum were their only flyers. And Pelussa was more often off on her own missions instead of following orders.
Shale. Or Suza. Or whoever she was now, nodded. “I will stay.”
“Thank you, Suza.”
Zemira straightened in her seat, her fighting leathers scratched and worn. “I volunteer to go.”
Ferth thought of the baby Zemira had sent south.
Titus looked twenty years older as he closed his eyes and sank against his pillow. He exhaled and focused his saddest, sorriest blue eyes on the warrior. “We need you here, Zemira.”
She’d been a striking snake on the battlefield. Ferth only had eyes on her for a few minutes, but he’d never forget the fluid grace of her reaping. He wondered if she fought with such efficiency because of the power of her love for Callie. Get the job done and get home to her daughter.
But she could not go home.
She hugged her ribs and tilted her face down, but not before Ferth caught the mist of tears flooding her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
Ferth’s heart broke for the mother.
Titus looked gutted. “Ferth and his wolves will be enough. I’ll work with Darius and Tomark on the guards. You’ll leave an hour after sunset.”
Captain Titus shifted the conversation to funeral arrangements for the thousands dead and plans to strengthen the camp and prepare for the next attack. Then all were dismissed to return to their personal preparations.
Anxious giddiness prickled through Ferth as he entered his tent. He was going to meet his mother. He’d dreamed about her forever, but now that she was a reality, he felt small and scared. What would she think of him and his monstrosities? Did she think of him at all? Would he be only a painful reminder of Cal, the son he’d helped kill?
Ferth went back out into the rain. He needed some answers from Titus before he left. He pulled open the door, strode into Titus’s tent, and froze.
“Whoa,” Tomark yelled, throwing his shield up, but it was too late. Ferth had seen her.
Titus sighed. “It’s alright, Tomark. Come here, son.”
He sure collected a lot of sons and daughters.
Tomark lowered his shield, revealing Imanna again. She smiled mischievously.
Thick dark hair curled down her thin shoulders. Her face was tan and freckled. Above ruby lips, eyes as pale and sharp as icebergs froze the air between them. Her beauty struck him, but not as hard as the brand on her forehead. He stared at the familiarly shaped scar—the top of a dragon’s head and a sword melded together. The royal Regium family crest of Skotar shone stark against her skin. Unworthily bearing that symbol in any form was grounds for immediate execution. The brand seemed to fly across the room and punch him in the stomach.
Imanna stood up and curtsied. Her eyes danced with delight.
Ferth’s mouth hung limp, and his thoughts whirled in confusion. Jade popped into his mind, and he stepped back in surprise. She did remind him of the vicious underling. They were both petite, but their eyes belied depth and cunning.
“Who are you?”
She opened her mouth, but Titus cut her off. “Sit down, Imanna.” He was not taking the pleasure from this that she clearly was.
“She is my ward.” He ran a hand through graying hair. “As I told you.”
“You said she was your daughter.”
“In all but blood.”
Ferth turned to Imanna. The first Draco king, Attor, had branded his son’s forehead, but he was the last who bore the brand on their brow. What sick person did that to Imanna? Her scar was faded. Old, but done well. It was clearly the royal brand, but hers was white, lacking the purple dye the Regiums mixed into the mark over their hearts. Who was she? How had this Draco-blooded orphan come to wear an executioner’s stamp? “How do you have the Regium brand on your face?”
She flinched at the name, Regium. Queen Mavras was the only Regium alive—she’d killed all the rest, every one of her bloodline, cousins and all. No one else bore the royal brand—except a girl who’d grown up in Elysium.
In the silence, Ferth’s voice rang like a clanging bell. “How do you have the royal brand?”
Imanna’s lips stayed sealed.
“It does not matter.” Titus’s blue eyes hardened. “You will forget what you saw.”
Not any time soon. He couldn’t blame them for not trusting him, but he didn’t like it. “The Dracos will kill you.” Mavras’s stinger might pop off at the mere sight of this offensive girl.
“I know that,” she snapped.
Titus’s voice was calm. “You understand our need for secrecy and the need to get her away from Skotar.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice was emphatic. If nothing else had been, that much was true.
“I’m not going back.” Her nostrils flared as she put her fists on narrow hips. “I may or may not be safe in this camp full of soldiers, but I’m miserable in Mitera. Darius cannot be too kind or his wife gets upset. You will not let me join the ladies at court. All day I practice my blade and bow in secret. I am being driven mad. Please, Father.”
Ferth couldn’t fathom anyone having the will to resist those pleading pale purple eyes.
Titus sighed. “Tomark, call Uriah here.”
Tomark left at a brisk pace.
While they waited, a thousand questions crossed Ferth’s tongue. He swallowed them all away, hoping for the day when he wasn’t running from death, when these good people would trust him enough to tell him the truth.
The tent door rippled as Tomark returned and ushered Uriah inside. The wind whipped the fire. The brightness lit up Imanna’s face. Uriah’s countenance changed the moment he saw her, as if she’d speared him, but not with death, with life. The grief and anger Ferth had thought were a permanent part of Uriah seemed to shrink to nothing under Imanna’s vibrant gaze.
“Uriah,” Titus said, bringing the love-struck soldier back to reality.
“Yes, sir.” His gaze flickered over to Titus for only a moment before returning to the young woman.
Anger flared in Ferth. What about Shale?
“Imanna is staying here.”
Her squeal cut off whatever else Titus was going to say. She jumped up and clapped her hands, then rushed to the captain’s bed and kissed his cheek. A smile split his scarred face as he put a hand on her shoulder, but his eyes revealed his worry.
“Uriah, you are charged with her protection. Tomark, you are the second in this.”
“Yes, sir,” Uriah and Tomark said in unison.
“The veil.” Titus pointed to the floor at Ferth’s feet.
Ferth scooped up the black silk.
Imanna slumped in her chair and held her hand out.
“You can’t remain veiled,” Titus said, his tone disappointed. “But you must keep your forehead banded. At. All. Times.”
“I promise.” She brightened. After days of talking to a veil, the massive sweeps of emotions over her face were a shock. She folded the cloth and tied it around her forehead at the top of her head in a practiced motion. Only a corner of the brand peeked out on her brow, a small crescent scar.
“And it doesn’t hurt that the camp thinks Kira is a pet,” Titus said.
Imanna stroked her dog’s neck. “Foolish mistake.”
Ferth snorted at her deadly tone.
“You will train with Uriah in private.” Titus looked tired. “No one else will know of your skills.”
“That shall be fun,” Imanna said, her tone mocking and seductive as she eyed the man who stood a head and shoulders taller and twice as broad.
Uriah’s face reddened, and his dark eyes widened.
Titus rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You will work in the healers’ building.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uriah,” Titus said. “I can think of no safer place than your tent. The crew can install the double partition, and I’d ask that she not have a door to the outside. She’ll have to go past you to leave and so would, presumably, an attacker. This is up to you.”
“It’s too big for me anyway without Poe.” His voice faltered on his hewan’s name.
Imanna focused more closely on the soldier.
“Thank you, son.” Titus looked at Imanna, and with a voice soft as fleece said, “It’ll be nice to have you near me again.”
She smiled, and the freckles on her cheeks and nose crinkled up. “I missed you.” She kissed his scarred brow. “Now you get some rest. Healer’s orders.”
“We’ll have dinner together tonight after we send Darius and Ferth off. I want to hear about everything.”
She grinned. “Yes, Father.” She stood and danced out into the rain, her face free and joyful despite the destruction and the war. Tomark and Kira followed her out.
“This blasted leg.” Titus grimaced as he tried to shift to a more seated position in bed.
“You should really rest,” Uriah said.
“I know I should.” Titus scowled. “But there is too much to do.”
“I’ll fetch a healer.” Uriah ducked out.
“I can come back later,” Ferth said.
“There isn’t a later.”
Ferth shifted back and forth on his feet. He had so many questions for Titus. Cal’s bone knife hung heavy on his hip.
“Her name is Mira Closdaut. She should be living at her sister Elssa’s house in the flower streets. She works for Darius, so he should be able to connect you quickly as you’ll be staying at his azure estate.” Titus pointed to the desk. “Take her that letter for me.”
Ferth turned, glad for the excuse to hide his beaming face. Invisible wings fluttered against his ribs as he searched through the parchments for the one with Mira’s name on it. Schooling his features into submission, he carefully tucked the note next to the wrinkled one from Cal.
“Thank you, sir.”
“There’s not been a heartbeat in her chest when she didn’t think of you.” His blue eyes misted. “I wish I could see her face when she realizes her lost son is found.”
Ferth’s pulse hammered in his ears. Joy and hope sang through his soul before the painful reality settled over. “But Cal is …”
“She’s grieving for Callidon. But, what greater gift could we give to a woman having lost one son, than to have found the other?”
Ferth nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He’d hidden these desires in deep secret all his life. He felt naked and exposed as they surfaced.
“You were never sworn into my army properly. You have fought with valor and saved many lives already. You will be viewed with honor if you choose to remain in Mitera or anywhere else in this country.”
“I will return and finish this fight with you.” He would do it for Cal.
Titus nodded, his smile grim. “Safe travels, my son.”
Ferth bowed, and Titus laid a hand on his head as if in blessing.
“Give your grandpapi, Closford, my regards as well.”
“Yes, sir.” His voice betrayed a thread of his overwhelming excitement. Eager as a newborn magu, he strode out into the rain. His smile faltered when he ran into Uriah returning with a healer. Carrying a steaming mug, the healer continued past and into the tent. Uriah turned to leave and hesitated, rotating back slightly.
“Ferth, wait.”
Ferth stopped, his muscles tensing.
“I judged you too harshly. Anyone with the heart to overcome their beast has honor and deserves my respect.” Uriah faced Ferth squarely, only an arm’s length away. “It must not have been easy for you to kill Dracos, your old comrades. You fought well and saved many Elysium lives yesterday.” He stuck out a hand.
Ferth surrendered his fighting hand as he gripped Uriah’s meaty palm. Warmth spread up his arm. “You saved my life.”
“It was war.” His dark eyes bore into Ferth. “But, I would do it again.”
Ferth smiled as the words sank in, warming his chest. “I am truly sorry for any pain I caused Shale. Er. Suza? She deserves a good man like you.” He meant every word, but also hoped it came out as a reminder to Uriah that he was not free to court Imanna.
Uriah’s brow knit in confusion, and then he laughed. Mirth transformed his face, softening the edges and taking years off. Rain flew from his shaking shoulders as the laughter bubbled over.
Ferth frowned. What was so funny?
Uriah finally sucked in a ragged breath and laid a heavy palm on Ferth’s shoulder. Ferth tensed.
“Suza is my sister.”
The blood drained from Ferth’s face. His fingers went numb. His sister.
His laughter renewed when he saw Ferth’s stunned features.
“How?”
“How did we both escape Gristlecove to find each other here all these years later? That I cannot answer.”
“Your father cannot be the Lord Gristlecove. Even among the Dracos he has a reputation for cruelty.”
Uriah’s face darkened as he nodded. “And he was worse to those he professed to care about.” A dangerous glint passed over his eyes. “He killed our mother. He whipped Suza.”
The fury that steamed off Uriah was reflected in Ferth. Ferth had been whipped by his father too. He wouldn’t wish such an experience on his worst enemy. And sweet brave Suza had endured her father’s crop. Blood boiled through his veins.
“I will kill him.” Uriah’s voice was like far-off thunder.
“Not if I get there first.”
He looked at Ferth and a bond of shared understanding passed between them. “Fathered by hate,” Uriah said. “Mothered by love.”
Ferth nodded. He could relate to that.
“Something Titus always says about us Dracos.”
Ferth had so many questions, but one overwhelming realization usurped every other thought. “Suza is your sister. She’s not …”
“Go.” Brown eyes danced with warmth. “Go find her. She has missed you.”
Uriah pumped Ferth on the back, sending him stumbling forward. His legs barely caught his fall before they started churning beneath him. Within seconds he arrived outside her tent, his heart a racing wolf, Rom and Lyko at his sides. He stood there, panting, his emotions too strong to think. He stared at the canvas, listening to his pulse pound along with the rain.
The flap flew open. Rom barked as Ferth blocked her familiar Dracosteel knife inches from his chest. Suza’s eyes widened, and he let go of her forearm as she jerked her blade back.
“What are you doing creeping out here like an attacker? You scared me. I could have killed you.”
“Not a chance, lady,” Lyko said.
Ferth didn’t bother correcting Suza. “He’s … he’s your … brother.”
“Uriah? Of course he’s my brother.”
He could see it now. The wide mouth, thick eyebrows, and rich dark hair. The strong legs and back.
“And your real name is Suza.” It all clicked into place.
She nodded, her chin dropping. “Suzaena.”
“It’s beautiful. It suits you.”
A coy lip curled up. “I should have told you. I wanted to, but you’ve been avoiding me.” Her voice betrayed hurt.
Frustration welled. All this time he’d tortured himself to give her space, never once considering she could have wanted otherwise. How could she? “I was trying to let you be free from me, from your painful past.”
