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6
Anders had hatedthat Talon took away his prize. He didn’t even question the werewolf within Anders’s hearing. But when Misti glanced back at him, he knew that she had figured out that he had been the one to find the spy, and somehow, he didn’t mind anymore. Let him try to take my glory. I don’t care what the Wild Shades think of me. Just Misti.
Even though he shouldn’t care about her.
They resumed their marching, moving more swiftly now. After marching several more miles, with scouts out along the perimeters looking for spies, Kastner halted them for a short respite and a light meal to keep their strength up. By then, the dead spy count total had reached seven.
They were nearing the edge of the forest by now, the trees more sparse, and more light shone on them. It was getting to be late afternoon, though. Kastner just might have them traveling through the night. The man was driven, that was for sure. Anders could appreciate that about him at least.
He had fallen back to march alongside Youngless, but now he pressed through the horde to make his way back up to the front. Misti was off by herself while Kastner and his son were conversing in heated whispers.
“What’s going on?”
“They don’t care for the number of spies. I wonder if they think we didn’t cover our tracks well enough.”
“I guess it’s possible.” Anders didn’t see how. Unless… “We were followed the entire time.”
She furrowed her brow. “We would have smelled or heard them.”
“We were weak and moving as fast as we could. It’s possible we overlooked them.” Damn. How could they have allowed that to happen? Their alliance was tepid at best. Give the Wild Shades a reason to turn against them, and they would be dead that much sooner.
The wind shifted, and Anders froze. Misti met his gaze, her eyes hardening.
As one, they turned to Kastner and Talon. They were already showing their eyes and fangs. The alpha had instructed before they departed that they would fight as their opponent showed themselves—as humans if they walked on two legs, wolves if on four.
A pair of amber eyes stared at them from the shadow of a tree. Then a hundred more appeared. Anders’s fangs released in anticipation. All he wanted was to defend himself and Misti. And maybe the Wild Shades too.
“Hold position,” Kastner said, his voice low. The land was silent. He didn’t need to speak loudly to be heard.
A long howl erupted the peace, and Anders immediately transformed. Wolves it was. His clothes tore, his knife clattered to the ground and hit a rock. Already he had left it behind, heading for a large wolf that bound straight for him. The scent of fur and sweat and cloves came to him. A slightly familiar smell, but he didn’t have time to think back as to who the werewolf might be. He batted away a blow to his head and nipped at the werewolf. His fangs latched onto an ear, and he swatted savagely at the wolf’s eye. Before he could connect, another wolf plowed into him, tearing him away from the first wolf. The metallic tang of blood coated his tongue, the first wolf’s ear still in his mouth.
As Anders fought off the two wolves, he realized just how many skirmishes were being raged at this moment. So many wolves had descended on them. All Shadowed Stars, of that he had no doubt.
The battle lasted for a lifetime. In truth, the day wasted away as more howls and whines and whimpers punctuated the sound of claws meeting claws and fangs tangling with other fangs. As soon as one Shadowed Star went down, another one or two took its place. A few of Anders almost completely healed wounds reopened, and new ones formed, but he refused to be pinned down. He did note that his father and his higher-ups were nowhere to be found, although maybe they were fighting someone else. You better hope I don’t come across you, Father, because if I do…
He had just killed another wolf when two more stalked toward him. His paws slid backward, and his foot slipped on something sharp that stabbed into him. One of the Wild Shades’s discarded knives. Anders quickly shifted back to human form, grabbed the knife, and shoved it into the nearest wolves’ throat. Spinning, blood flying everywhere, he brought the blade down on the second wolf.
Panting, Anders glanced around. Even with his eyes still that of a wolf’s, it was getting harder to see. Night was stealing over the land, and he had to rely more on smell and sound to be able to fend off attacks and keep on killing. The sheer amount of fallen bodies was staggering. The stench of blood and death and bowels made it more difficult to track those still living.
He backed up a few paces and tripped over a wolf. His hand brought up the knife immediately, but he lowered it just as fast. Misti.
She sniffed at him, licked his cheek, and darted back into the thick of the fighting.
The lust that always claimed him after a battle seized him now, but he forced it back. The battle wasn’t over yet.
And, besides, if Misti wanted anyone after the fighting, it should be her husband.
