Page 31 of Knotted By the Triad

Tomorrow, I would visit the castle to see what was going on with my cousin. A buzzing noise sounded within the warehouse. It only lasted for a few seconds, then all was quiet again.

I frowned. What could they be doing in there? The wagon finally turned onto the dirt path leading into the clearing. A pulse of anticipation traveled through my bond with my pack brothers.

The driver guided the horses into the clearing and brought the wagon to a stop several yards from the warehouse. Then he climbed down. His assistant followed. I studied both men carefully.

Neither appeared nervous or suspicious. But their guard was up. One went left, the other right, as they took in their surroundings. After a moment, they turned to look at each other. The driver gave a thumbs-up, then moved to stand at the back of the wagon.

His assistant started toward the warehouse. He knocked twice on the shabby door, causing it to rattle slightly. After a few seconds, he knocked three more times, then took a few steps back.

A moment later, the warehouse door opened. Two men stepped outside. One remained near the entrance while the other approached the assistant. They exchanged a few words before the man from the warehouse glanced toward the wagon.

Then he nodded. The assistant turned and motioned toward the driver. The driver released the latch at the back of the wagon and lowered the rear panel. Then he stepped back. The man from the warehouse approached the vehicle, leaving the other to stand guard at the entrance.

Warehouse Guy peered inside, climbed in, and shifted crates aside in the wagon. A moment later, he emerged carrying one of the concealed jars. My dragon growled low. There was our confirmation that the buyers were here for the DB.

The man carrying the jar set it on the ground near the wagon, then said something to the assistant. I couldn't make out the words from this distance, but the assistant nodded. The Warehouse Guy produced a large brown envelope from his jacket and handed it to the assistant.

Smiling, the assistant took the envelope to the driver, then followed the guy back to the warehouse. The driver remained beside the wagon where the jar was still on the ground. He kept looking left and right, making sure the coast was clear as he shoved the envelope into his jacket.

About a minute later, the other men in the warehouse came out and headed toward the wagon. One of them carried a large wooden chest. Another held a crossbow. They hadn’t brought those items with them when they arrived. Neither had our guards reported seeing those items when they checked the warehouse.

Where had they come from?

Unease ran through my bond with my pack brothers as one of the warehouse men climbed onto the wagon and began handing jars of DB to the men waiting outside. One of them stood guard with his crossbow as the others loaded the DB into the chest.

I raised my hand. It was almost time to give the signal to attack. I waited until the last jar was loaded into the chest.

“Now,” I whispered, then lowered my hand swiftly.

My pack brothers and I dropped from the trees at the same time. The man with the crossbow spotted us first. His eyes widened, and he swung the weapon in my direction.

“Ambush!” he yelled, then fired.

I twisted to the side. The bolt whizzed past my shoulder, close enough for me to feel a rush of air before it buried itself in a tree behind me. I raced forward as the clearing erupted into chaos.

The crossbowman reached for another bolt. I wouldn't give him a chance to use it. The moment he saw me charging toward him, he abandoned the bolt and swung the crossbow at my head instead.

I ducked beneath it and drove my shoulder into his stomach. The force knocked him backward. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. Before I could reach him again, he gripped the crossbow with both hands and swung it toward my face.

I caught it. For a second, we struggled for control of the weapon. Then I jerked him toward me and drove my knee into his stomach. His breath left him in a grunt. Before he could recover, I slammed my forehead into his. His head snapped back.

I ripped the crossbow from his hands and tossed it aside. With blood pouring from his nose, he reached for the dagger at his waist. Reminding myself that I wanted them alive, I slammed the hilt of my sword against his temple before he could draw his weapon.

He swayed, and then his body crumpled to the ground. One down. By the time I straightened, two more men were already down. One lay motionless several feet from Daemin, while another was sprawled near Zian's feet.

I hadn't even seen either of my pack brothers take them out. Three down. Four left. The driver must have realized how quickly the odds were turning against them. He leaped onto the wagon and reached beneath a tarp, pulling out several swords.

“Weapons!” he shouted.

He tossed the first sword to one of the remaining men. The smuggler caught it and rushed toward me while the driver threw the others to his companions. I tightened my grip on my sword and met him halfway.

Steel clashed against steel as I brought my weapon down. He staggered beneath the force of my strike, but I didn't give him time to recover. I swung again. He blocked, barely. Our blades scraped together as I drove him backward.

His boots dug into the dirt, but I was stronger. I shoved him away and drove my foot into his chest. He flew backward and crashed into the wagon. I spun as movement flashed at the edge of my vision.

Another blade came toward my neck. I ducked beneath it and drove my elbow into the attacker's ribs. It was the driver. He grunted and stumbled sideways. I grabbed the back of his tunic before he could fall and slammed him face-first into the side of the wagon.

Once. Twice.