A Warrior’s Fate (Wolves of Morai #1)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

S unlight glittered off the length of the river as the city square yawned awake, but the workers of the boutiques and eateries, who would typically spend the time preparing for the morning minutiae, were nowhere to be found. Instead, Isla came upon near-empty cobblestone streets, dulled crystals in the absence of moonlight, and air so tense and solemn she thought it would suffocate her.

She’d sprinted to the call center so fast she missed a few of the turns drawn out by Jonah and had wound circles around Mavec’s lower space. Her body was on autopilot; her mind lost in her mission, in its fight against panic. Kai was being challenged for alpha, and before she could let herself feel the weight of what that meant, she had to see if there was anything she could find out about what it was. Who it was. And if there was anything she could do.

When she entered the small corner store, three people were inside, and judging by their weary appearances and poorly tucked-away makeshift beds, they’d been there all night. The woman behind the front desk gave a start as Isla stepped inside, her hand reaching reflexively to something beneath the counter.

Isla raised her arms slowly, showing she didn’t mean any trouble.

As the woman’s body relaxed, Isla began, “Are you— ”

“ There is still no additional news regarding the challenging of Alpha Kai.”

Isla snapped her head towards an older couple huddled in the corner of the room over a small radio broadcasting the Pack Report. The transmission was faint and grainy, but she picked up on what she could.

Reporters and journalists were already flocking the Pack Hall, even in the early hours, looking out for any member of the council, Beta Ezekiel, or Kai himself for any word or comment, but no one had emerged.

Twelve had died during the attacks last night. Among them, one of the pack’s deltas.

Over fifty people had been injured in some capacity, two of which were in critical condition.

And most of all, they urged the public not to panic.

“What a disaster,” the woman at the desk said softly.

But Isla couldn’t pay it any heed, too focused on listening as the reporter had gone on to comment on Kai—

“I’ve been around to experience all three of these alpha shifts—Rainer, Kyran, and now Kai—and I’d say I certainly had my doubts, but I’ve liked the alpha’s tenure so far. It’s easy to forget our leaders are people, and he rose to the occasion in circumstances that would’ve broken many of us, odds against him and all. He’s the youngest alpha to take the mantle in a while, sure, but he’s shown promise. I’ve liked his proposals for the pack these past few months and how he’s handled himself after the tragedies, not to mention his triumphs in the Hunt.”

“That begs the question, who would be foolish enough to challenge him,” another voice responded.

“We’ve heard the speculations.”

No elaboration was made, but Isla figured she knew what was being alluded to, what Davina had said. Whoever was challenging Kai may have had something to do with his father’s death.

“I have family who lives in Charon,” the woman at the desk spoke again, and this time, Isla turned to her. “They went through a challenge and an alpha bloodline change maybe thirty years ago, and the pack has been in turmoil ever since. It’s a complete tyranny. My cousin suspects foul play, maybe some involvement from…” Ca tching herself, she waved a hand. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. What can I help you with, dear?”

Something in Isla was begging her to push the elderly woman. To find out where she was going with her theories. But she’d already wasted too much time. “I need to make a call.”

“That is what we do,” the woman said, attempting to lighten the situation as she angled her body to a switchboard-looking device littered with buttons and small levers, trailed by long wires along the floor. “Where can I connect you?”

“Io’s Imperial City.”

It felt like the entire room arrested.

The woman’s features dropped, and Isla could feel two pairs of eyes searing into her back.

“We can’t do that, unfortunately,” the woman said, righting herself to face Isla fully again.

“Can’t you call any region from here?”

“Calls into the Imperial Pack aren’t permitted.” The woman’s face matched Isla’s perplexity, though for different reasons. “Those are the rules of the Imperials, and they have been for a very, very long time.”

She spoke as though Isla should’ve known but as a member of Deimos. Not as who she really was.

She wished she could’ve kept it that way, left her identity in the dark, but there was no time. The only other place one could make calls out of Deimos was likely the Pack Hall, and there wasn’t a chance she’d make it up there, either within the window she needed or through the reporters.

“I’m from Io,” Isla said and instantly felt the room shift again. She steeled against it, that feeling of being out of place. “I need to call home.”

She watched as the woman’s fingers curled into fists on the counter. Another reflex. “Unfortunately, we still can’t do that.”

Isla let out a breath, ready to face whatever judgment would come her way. “Imperial Beta Malakai is my father. An exception will be made to whatever rule, I’m sure.” For proof, she fished her identification card from her pocket—boasting her name, familial line, and the Imperial crest—and placed it on the table .

The woman’s eyes widened, flickering between the card and Isla’s face. She wouldn’t move her hands, wouldn’t touch it. The radio had been lowered, and whispers of the couple behind carried over it.

“Why is she here?”

“Imperial spies—they’re trying to take over.”

Isla bit down on her tongue, wanting to explain all of it. She wasn’t a spy, not their enemy.

“Can you connect me?” Isla asked.

“Unfortunately, I still can’t do that.” The woman’s voice remained dark. “I can’t change the rules that your people put in place. Perhaps once you’ve left our pack and returned to the north, you can speak to your father about some of these regulations imposed on us lesser packs .” Isla didn’t miss the bite in her words or fail to clock the disdain creasing her face. Her mind slipped to the bitter way Jonah had spoken about the order the Imperial Alpha maintained.

A rock settled in Isla’s stomach.

The influence Io held over the rest of the continent had been what she’d accepted as the way things were run, the way it was meant to be, needed to be run in order to keep the continent thriving as it had. But at some point, had she been too ignorant to see it slipping into madness?

“I’m not your enemy.” Isla stepped forward, trying to mind her temper. “If I could call, if I could talk to my father now, I might be able to stop this. I could convince them not to go through with the challenge.”

Though hope briefly flashed over the woman’s face, it faded quickly. “And why would you care? Why do that for us?”

Isla opened her mouth, prepared to say that this challenge was ridiculous and that the Imperial Alpha would be a fool to approve it, but shestopped herself. If anyone ever relayed that such heinous words against the Alpha had slipped her lips back to Io, she’d be condemned. And she couldn’t say she cared for Kai either.

Once again, Isla felt as she had standing before the Wall…like a coward.

“It doesn’t seem right,” Isla settled on, her gut twisting and mind reeling. Could that be misconstrued?

The gazes of the others in the room speared her as the woman stepped back from the counter, standing tall. “An exception will be made for you , but not me for breaking the rules.” She pointed to the door. “Please leave. I can’t help you.”

Despite the rage that roiled inside her, Isla maintained her poise.

She left.

As Isla stepped back into the bright sunlight of the square from the call center, she shifted her gaze to what she could see of the Pack Hall, wanting the world to swallow her up. Somewhere into a void where she could be alone—or to take Kai away from all of this.

She had a gnawing feeling that their talk about where they stood, about the bond, had been unofficially postponed…but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t see him.

If Kai didn’t show up at her hotel, she’d go to him. Whether he wanted her there or not, whether it meant fighting through every reporter and guard, she would be there. He wasn’t going through this alone. As long as she was around, he wasn’t meant to.

Along the streets, Isla noted the guard and city workers assisting the owners in cleaning their shops. She wanted to offer her help, guilt rising amidst the anger and sadness, but the warriors would be departing for training within the hour, which meant she either had to catch one of the trolleys through the city or go for another sprint.

She cast a hand above her eyes as she angled her head against the glare, searching for a sign pointing to the nearest station. But as she did, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and her wolf went on high alert. Though it wasn’t for Kai this time, as it had been a lot recently, it was familiar. And she swore as she turned, she caught something moving so quickly it was a shadow-like blur in her periphery.

The self-preserving part of her pleaded for her to let it go, to head to a station and not be late for training, but she let instinct guide her instead, moving along the cobblestone until a flicker of red cropped in the corner of her eye.

Stopping a few inches from the source, Isla bent, taking it between her fingers and lifting it to the light. “What the hell? ”

It was a blood-red ruby, but not just any ruby— hers . A piece of her jewelry that had broken off as she’d shifted last night.

For a moment, she figured a rogue must’ve fled with it from the hall, trying to steal it…but then, she caught another a few yards ahead. She went to it, taking it in her other hand, barely raising it to the light before there was another.

Another.

Another.

Another.

A trail.

She followed it, collecting the numerous gemstones in her pocket, her wolf silent now before she froze where the trail ended. An alleyway.

With the angle of the sun and the height of the buildings bracketing it, it was well-shadowed, but enough light spilled through for another gleam to catch her eye.

But it wasn’t of ruby.

Looking around, finding no one near, Isla took a few steps forward, her focus entirely stolen by the glittering item, like a trance.

Almost as if she knew in the back of her mind the care it needed to be handled with, Isla cupped the piece in her hand and carefully brought it to her face.

It was a diadem— half a diadem.

Not the tiara-like hair comb that she’d worn. This wasn’t meant to be thrown on for parties.

Even incomplete, the broken metal was heavy in her hand—a mix of silver, flecked with gold and baring a black crystal. Not a twin but nearly a sister to the dagger she had hidden in her room. The one Lukas had been given to kill her.

As she lifted it higher, allowing one of the gemstones to catch the light, she noticed something behind her in one of the crystal embellishment’s reflections.

Isla whipped around and nearly dropped the treasure as a gasp filled her lungs. She hadn’t realized she’d been moving away until she collided with the wall of the building at her back.

Drawn in what seemed to be fresh red paint—dark enough that it could be mistaken for blood—was the language of the book and marker. But though it reminded her of it, this wasn’t like the message left for Kai.

Because this one had symbols she did understand: the mark of Io and the mark of a warrior.

Because this message had been left for her.

The note for Kai had been left by a murderer, and Isla had no reason to believe that this one was any different. No reason to believe anything but the fact that the killer of her mate’s brother and father not only knew exactly who she was but was here, in Deimos.

She made herself exhale, forcing her body to relax.

And then she ran, the clatter of jewels on stone sounding in her wake as they rained from her pockets at the jerky movements.

She stopped at the mouth of the alley, training her eyes over the streets.

Empty.

A murderer and a coward. Like whoever had sent Lukas to kill her instead of facing her themselves.

Any doubt that they were connected ebbed away.

Isla crept back into the alley, keeping close to the wall to take away an angle of surprise for anyone approaching. She looked down at the fractured crown in her hand, rifled through her pockets for the jewels of her necklace, then looked at the new trail of them on the ground and up at the dark writing on the wall.

What was the point of this? So, she drew the connection with the dagger? So, she knew they knew?

Her chest tightened.

Speculations were that Kai’s challenger was tied to his father's death. If this was them, then all of this could’ve been some kind of warning. For her…and, therefore, for him.

Not fear but anger rose first in her gut. A defensiveness against an enemy she couldn’t see. A protectiveness over what was hers in the wake of a threat.

Determination etching across her face, Isla tucked the diadem into the inner pocket of Kai’s jacket, the heavy piece causing the fabric to skew.

Time was still not her friend, but she had to get this to Jonah with the book.

The guards in the square were startled by her sudden appearance beside them, but still, she managed to sweet-talk them out of a pad of paper and a pen.

It took her as long to scribe the message as it did to realize she’d barely been breathing. The few slow inhales she made herself take made her dizzy, and the odd shapes and angles of the supposed letters cramped her fingers, hands, and wrists.

As she looked at her poor copy of what was before her, Isla grimaced. Any improper curve or cut of her script could’ve completely changed its meaning or made it useless. But it would do. It would have to do.

And this—

Isla stepped back, observing the message again.

This had to go. No one could see it, especially not those two symbols. Ones that very clearly pointed her way.

Isla looked at her arm and then at the paint. It was so fresh, still wet, as if it had been written mere minutes before she stepped foot back into the street from the call center.

Had they been here, waiting for her? Had they followed her from Jonah’s? From her hotel?

She couldn’t think of it. Not for her sanity or the sake of time.

Frowning, Isla brought up her sleeve and rubbed away as much of the writing as she could, staining the fine black fabric with red. The marks became smudged, losing some of their shapes, but they were still there. Taunting her, as if whoever had done this had taken extra care to ensure they stayed.

With a curse, Isla braced herself, bringing out her claws and pressing them to the brick. A searing pain shot up her arm and through her wolf as she dragged them over the hard surface. Over and over and over. A hiss slipped fromher mouth as she noticed the blood leaking from the wounds caused by the pulling at her skin, not able to heal as fast as she was inflicting them.

But she continued, pushing past the ache, building up the scratches until the remnants of the mark of her home and the mark of her title were nothing but a mix of dust and blood at her feet.

Isla had been late to training, and now, she was stuck in this hell .

Her cough tasted vaguely of blood as she careened around a tree on the trails alongside the campus—her punishment—every fifteen-minute increment she had been late meant an extra mile on top of the usual two-mile warm-up.

She’d arrived one hour behind everyone else—thanks to the slowest driver in history who could only get her within a twenty-minute walking distance of the mountain terrain. A walking distance she also ran.

She didn’t even want to think about what the rest of the day held, but the peaks of the mountains taunted her through the trees’ canopies.

Ten miles up and ten miles down.

While the higher-ups met to discuss updated strategy pertaining to the newly emboldened rogues, the guard and warrior units were going on a long, long hike starting promptly when the sun reached its peak. Isla knew if she missed that start time, she was a dead woman. No doubt forced to hike an extra five miles herself or have an extra ten pounds added to her pack.

So, she pushed her tired and sore muscles further and faster, groaning and gritting her teeth. The trees were becoming a blur—either because she was moving so quickly or because she’d barely had a chance to eat. The food in the mess hall wasn’t the best, but still, at the thought of it, her mouth watered. Everyone else was likely finished their drills, recuperating, and enjoying a warm meal.

Meanwhile, she was alone— very alone—in these woods.

As she tried to focus her eyes on what she passed, whatever false confidence she’d had earlier in the town square waned. Paranoia settled in. She swore there was a figure behind one tree. A message written on another. Diamonds at the foot of another.

There was a murderer after her.

One capable of taking down an alpha and his heir.

One supposedly bold enough to claim it and take on her mate.

She was vulnerable out here…a fact proven by the eerie sound of cracking branches behind her.

Isla stumbled but didn’t stop.

The twigs had been snapped by a foot too heavy to belong to any creature that dwelled here .

More branches cracked louder from another direction. A few seconds later—again. Closer.

Was she being followed—or chased?

Shit, shit, shit.

Forcing herself not to panic, Isla took a quick inventory of her surroundings. Some close-knit trees with low-hanging branches lay ahead on the trail’s path.

Those became her target.

Timing it just right, she skidded around the bend and threw up her arms, catching onto the bark and using her core to swing up her body to perch on a limb’s surface, ducking into some of the brush cover. It groaned beneath her weight, and she prayed the sound of that and its brother she also snapped from the trunk as a makeshift weapon didn’t give away her location.

Her chest was on fire, and her strangled panting sawed through her throat. It was a struggle not to choke on the coarse air as she fought to settle her breathing.

But then came that feeling. Not the fear or the adrenaline, but that intoxicating, exhilarating relief.

Moments later, she felt something warm touch her back. But when Isla jerked and spun to her mate standing below her at the tree’s base, any reprieve she’d felt trickled away. The question of “what was he doing here” was dead on her tongue.

Kai was shaking his head, concern flecking his eyes and a tenseness drawn in his face as he lifted a finger to his mouth, telling her to be quiet.