Page 18 of Thrown To The Wolf


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uched vision, borne as much for a desire not to be beaten further. His relief when what he predicted ended up coming true, that guilty slinking flush of pleasure twisting up tightly with the fear that next time, he would not be able to deliver.

Then it all slowed down. I counted the breaths of the man who rolled free of another in bed and looked down at the muscular white shoulders and fan of black hair on the pillow. The shadowy man with dark hair and a beard took in the silent sobs, the way the other’s body curled away from his as far as it could, before getting to his feet, refastening his trousers, and exiting the room.

A paler, younger Sylvan lay there, flinching only when he heard the snick of the door. Her, his mind begged, show me her. And she came, quick as only thoughts could be, a tumbling mess of memories and visions. Her smile, the tumble of her red hair, the clasp of her fingers around his, the tangle of their limbs, the taste of her lips—

“No!”

I was returned roughly to the real world, blinking now at the sun setting behind us, the sky painted a rainbow of colours. Sylvan shook me slightly, his jaw tightening, and despite his hands being on my biceps, nothing came down our shared link. He struggled to catch his breath as it came in long ragged sighs, and his eyes bore into mine, glowing an almost phosphorescent blue and flicking from my eyes, down to my lips, and back again.

My hand went automatically to the collar of his shirt, pushing the fabric away to reveal the firm white expanse of his chest. My fingers spidered across the heaving surface, like I had a right to, a weird echo of his handsy approach in my nightmares. When my hand connected with something hard and sharp, not muscle or bone, it appeared as if summoned by my touch. An iridescent crystal, brutally knapped into a sharp point and hanging from his neck on a leather thong.

“So, intent on getting under everyone’s skin,” he snarled, his fingers biting deeper. “Always pick, pick, picking at everyone to let it all out.” He shook his head and then pushed me off him, forcing me to stumble back and sit down hard on the ground by the fire or fall. “Stay away from me.”

I blinked, just looking at the dirt and the trees and the sky for a second, trying to process what I’d just seen. It was momentous, useful. Sylvan was little more than a manipulative puppet master in our midst, so to get something on him felt like a victory. I nodded, still trying to piece it all together as I rolled to my feet, then went off to find Brandon.

“Crystals and I think Leifgart is an acropolis built on top of the Great Wolf’s temple.”

I blurted out the headlines of what I had seen, and the guys all looked up at me from where they were assessing what they’d retrieved from the cache.

“What?” Slade said.

“I touched Sylvan.” This provoked some growls around the group of my pack. “Not like that! I felt his bond and saw a bunch of weird shit. He said I’d be getting his visions now that we’d acknowledged the bond, but I haven’t gotten a thing since we crossed over. If anything, he’s become even more of a closed book. I didn’t know I could do that, just thought it was emotions. Figured I’d at least know what he felt about everything. The Wolf seems to have been there before the Volken. His temple is buried beneath where they built the city. The Volken, they have these crystal spears. That’s how they controlled the Great Wolf. That must be how they keep him controlled now…” I blinked, coming back to myself. “I think that’s important.”

“It’s OK, love,” Slade said. “How reliable do you reckon this vision would be, Brandon?”

“I’ve never known anyone able to share visions, down a bond or any other way.”

“She shouldn’t be bonded to him at all,” Jack growled, then looked around. “What? Am I talking out my arse here? He’s one of them, a fucking threat to what we have here.”

I heard the edge rise in Jack’s voice, watched his hands tighten and his shoulders stiffen, until Hawk slung an arm around him, pulling his head in close and placing a rough kiss on his temple. Jack was scared. Scared a lot of the time, I was beginning to think, but he couldn’t share it. His eyes flicked around the crowd, looking for confirmation, but the rest of the guys kept their own counsel. Jack shook his head, his finger working the small part of the seam of his jeans that were fraying as Hawk tousled his hair. I glanced over at Brandon, who nodded, seeing what I saw.

Sometimes it was hard to see why I’d added Jack to the pack. He was so spiky, getting his back up the minute people didn’t see things the way he did.

You don’t need to agree, merely acknowledge, my Tirian said.

But I did, at least partially. I thought about Sylvan, and a rapid flicker of memories popped up—of his fangs crushing into my shoulder, of his mocking description of me as a little queen, of the much more sober Sylvan, shaking under my grip.

“That makes sense,” I said. “He has been a threat, to my life, my freedom, my peace of mind. I’ll admit, I don’t know if he’s an asset or a liability on this mission. He makes vague prognostications…” I watched Brandon go pale, then swallow and straighten, not letting his body slump like it wanted to. “But provides little real useful information. You’re right to question his presence.”

Hawk smiled at me, his eyes holding mine for a moment before he glanced down to see Jack straighten slowly, the blond man’s face lighting up before he hid behind his cocky smile.

“The problem is we don’t have enough information. He broke the connection, made it so I couldn’t see anything else. Is that normal, Brandon?”

He nodded, his mouth tightening. “Any of you could shut out the others, if you really wanted to. The vision thing though…”

“Would you be able to show Jules how to get past that block?” Aaron asked.

“I…” I watched Brandon’s eyes dart around the group before settling on me. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, that I could see, but that wasn’t all of it. There was an odd resigned look to his face as he searched mine. Not as severe as the first night at the mining camp, but even though we’d had a quiet moment together that night, there hadn’t been much since. He watched, waiting for something, and as if bidden, the longing and wariness of that night rose inside me. He nodded, looking away for a second before meeting Aaron’s eyes squarely. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all we can ask,” Aaron said.

“Moonie,” one of the soldiers said. Chuckles went around the group—well, everyone but Finn and Brandon. “We can’t do much as a mating celebration, but we brought some bottles of piss from the mining camp.”

“I said to leave them,” Aaron growled.

“Yeah, and we figured this was on its way. One night of celebration’s not gonna kill us. The fucking Volken don’t even know we’re coming,” another soldier said. He shook the longneck beers hopefully.

“Put them in a bag in the river and secure them well,” Aaron said with a shake of his head. “That’ll cool them down before tonight. But…” That stopped the guys from their cheering. “The cache will be itemised and evaluated, and a report given to me within an hour. Tents set up, campfire organised and kindling, rations assessed, and the area scouted for any of the plants or prey on the viable foodstuffs list. Latrines dug, all non-essential items squared away—”

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