A Warrior’s Fate (Wolves of Morai #1)

Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

I sla was watching Kai.

It took a moment for her to register it through the ringing in her ears and the initial fuzziness in her vision, but she was staring down into the arena, illuminated by the moon and raging firelight, filled with its spectators all focused on the center stone. She lifted onto her elbow from where she’d been lying on her side and touched her hand to the rock in front of her, outlining one of the few small windows peering in. Along the phases of the moon, deep red painted the floor as two wolves circled each other. One gray with lightless eyes, and the other flaring crimson with a coat of shadow black; both matted with blood.

Isla gasped as the gray one lunged, sharp canines bared as it went for his opponent's throat.

“Kai.” Her throat was raw. She spoke as if he could hear her.

There was a harsh tugging at the bond, a slamming against that mental wall, as Kai maneuvered out of Brax’s way. Then they became a blur as they battled, a melee of claws and teeth. Equal in size, equally quick. That shouldn’t have been happening. This fight shouldn’t have been going this long. Brax was a rogue. Kai was an alpha.

Something must’ve been wrong. Something he was trying to tell her.

Isla dropped the barrier between them, but when she felt an overwhelming wave of the raw, volatile power, she couldn’t hear him. Not clearly. He was muffled and distant.

“You were missing a good fight.”

Isla whipped around at the voice and blinked into the darkness of where she was. It was a small, unused spectator’s room—private, likely for those of status to celebrate after events. All the furniture, tables, and chairs were covered in canvas tarps and dust. A figure stood in an opposite corner of the room, shrouded until her eyes adjusted. A male of sinewy build stepped towards her, and Isla caught the glint of a blade against the little bits of light streaming through.

She jumped to her feet, blood rushing to her head, legs unsteady. The man was masking his scent, but from the look of his disheveled appearance—

Rogue.

Isla reached for her wolf but found it cowering. Her eyes widened.

The distance, the pulling away, the bond…

The rogue ran at her, and Isla couldn’t dwell. His teeth were bared, but he had no claws, no light to his eyes, just his weapon. He favored his right side. Isla waited until the last moment and side-stepped. She swept out his legs and knocked the blade from his hands, claiming it as her own. Then she didn’t hesitate. She drove the knife into his gut and used his keeling over to slit his throat deep enough that he’d never recover. He clutched at his neck, gurgling and crumbling onto the floor.

Isla’s hands shook, her breathing shallow as she wiped his blood from her skin, mixed with that of two others.

Stiffening, she spun again.

“Mom. Seb.” She took in the dim surroundings again.

How did she get here?

She made a step towards the exit in the far corner.

“A wolf’s pride is something to behold.”

She stopped at the coo, an unnervingly melodic tone, and from the doorway emerged two more figures. One, she assumed, was another rogue from his teeth, claws, and lightless eyes, and the other—a woman. She’d had the hood of her emerald cloak over her head, but she dropped it to reveal pale skin and ink-dark hair. Her eyes were a bright blue, brighter than Isla’s, like pure ice. Cold in a way that made Isla’s skin crawl nearly as much as her wide smile did.

“I told him he wouldn’t be able to kill you,” the woman said, and then Isla noticed what she was hanging from her neck and perched on rings adorned on three of her fingers. Dark crystals. “But they’re so eager to prove themselves.”

Isla gulped and urged her hands to steady, keeping her ire concealed for just a second longer.

Think . Don’t just react. “You’re—”

“ You’re, ” the woman interrupted, plucking something from her cloak. “Someone I didn’t expect to be such a thorn in my side, little mutt.”

Isla snarled, remembering her mother’s battered face, and saw red. She tightened her grip on her weapon, begging her wolf to come out.

This was her—the witch who’d been behind it all.

“You took my mother from me,” she gritted.

The witch tutted. “Your mother should’ve never come after me. None of them should’ve. It could’ve all been avoided if he’d never ripped us from our homes.”

Isla had been so ensnared by the words, what they meant—that her mother hadn’t left to explore the southern territories but to capture Cassius’s escaped witch—she wasn’t ready for the witch’s rogue companion to catch her with something sharp.

Isla cried out, knees wobbling as the burning of poison lanced her veins. The rogue used her weakness to take hold of her, his strength too much as he pulled her arms back at odd angles.

She couldn’t manage it all. Him, the poison, her wailing wolf, the bond. Kai kept tugging at her, and she tried to scream, to tell him to shut her out and focus, but it was all becoming a blur. A thick fog settled over the bridge between them. As the poison worked through and dizziness overtook her, Isla slowly lifted her head.

She had to think. She needed to get out of this.

“You tortured her,” she panted, voice breaking as she thought of her mother bleeding, dying, alone. Thought of Sebastian taking his last breath on the cold stone. Had they gotten him, too ?

“Tortured.” The witch tsked. “I spared her from half the hell they put me and my sisters through in that prison.”

Isla ignored her, attempting to wrench free, only to be dealt another jab. Turning her head, she didn’t catch the gleaming of a blade but a cylinder filled with dark liquid and a crude needle at the end. Isla didn’t need to wonder what that amount in her system could do. She knew it would kill her.

Wickedness glinted in the witch’s eyes as if she fed off Isla’s pain, the terror she couldn’t mask. “It was the only way to get through to her, to help her… understand. You wolves can be quite hard to get to sometimes.”

Their immunity to magic. She’d needed to break down her mother’s defenses. That’s how the control could work on her.

But she’d broken her parents’ bond. That shouldn’t have been possible.

“We thought she was dead.” Isla prayed the rogue didn’t take the flexing of her fingers as a reason to stab her again, though she was testing for her claws. Nothing.

“The blood of those beasts makes for a powerful elixir,” the witch said. “Enough to kill that mongrel under your skin while leaving you whole, just enough that you’re still useful.”

Isla blinked sluggishly, eyes casting to the side in search of the dark liquid. “It’s bak blood.”

“In part.” Pride shone in the witch’s voice. “My own personal concoction. Stronger than any bane I’ve come across.” Her gaze flickered to the rogue, and Isla felt that sharpness at her side again. A demonstration.

The man’s hand over her mouth muted her scream. Every part of her was on fire, inside and out, her skin only cooled by tears and sweat. If this was what Kyran and Jaden had been given to kill them, then that one dose must’ve taken them instantly. There was no way to weather this quietly.

Isla felt the bond pulling. Taut, straining like it could…like it could snap. Her wolf pulled farther away. Panic rose in her chest.

She needed to get away. The witch was going to kill her.

Think, damnit.

“You all locked them away like some feral abominations, slaughter them like they’re nothing. For sport, for glory. Your own brethren. While you preach family and loyalty.” She put a hand on her chest, stating with a hint of sorrow. “It wouldn’t be the first time a wolf was bastardized by magic.”

Isla had tuned out her ramblings, focusing instead on the fight, the crowd. It was still happening. Why was it taking so long?

“At least that alpha believed the same as me—that the beasts should be embraced, utilized—for a little while, at least.” The witch’s words regained Isla’s attention, and the spellcaster knew it. “We worked well together. He was kind—as he could be, the bastard—gave me somewhere to hide, sent food and supplies. For years, we made our plan, but when it was finally time to move, he had second thoughts. Then, he only stood in my way. His son, too. Thankfully, his beta seems to be coming around.” Isla flinched as the witch touched her head and brushed hair from her face. “We could all work together, you know. We have similar interests.”

Isla wished she had enough energy to spit at her. It was building back slowly, her wolf whimpering but returning to focus. If she waited for the poison to wear a bit more, maybe she’d have a chance. One clean shot at the witch’s throat.

“No,” Isla choked out.

“No? Don’t we all want the King dead?”

Cassius.

“I…I don’t want him…”

The witch stepped away, and Isla didn’t waste energy on more words.

“More.”

At the witch’s demand, Isla braced herself as the rogue administered another fraction of poison, right on cue, with no hesitation like a dutiful servant. His hand went over her mouth for the screaming, and he moved her around like a ragdoll. His hold tightened, and Isla realized everything about him was rigid. He obeyed the witch’s every command with the least bit of reaction.

As the witch looked through the spaces down into the arena, Isla’s vision became spotty, her heartbeat so loud in her ears, a sluggish drum.

I’m dying.

“Such a shame. So pointless ,” the witch hissed as if she’d witnessed a bad blow, and Isla felt the pulling get worse, more desperate. Seeking.

Kai wasn’t only getting tired but distracted. By her. He could feel her fading away, could tell something was wrong. He couldn’t find her, but he fought. Held onto the tether and wouldn’t let it, let her drift into nothing.

If he didn’t stop, he was going to die.

Isla could sense the rise of dread within the crowd. She didn’t want to look; she didn’t want to know why. Her bottom lip quivered.

The witch turned, her lips pursing. “Oh, you don’t look so well.” She folded her arms. “I don’t want you dead, same as him. Or I suppose I’m not allowed to kill either of you. The challenge is just to see what he’s capable of, if what he’s meant to be is really true. Brax’s enchantment should wear down soon if the alpha doesn’t become sick of holding himself back before then.” She took slow steps back towards Isla, and her hand went to her face, cupping her chin, pinching her cheeks between sharp nails. “If you’re anything like your mother, you’ll serve me well. Hard to break but worth it.” She inspected her, eyes drifting up to the crown of Isla’s head, glimmering with greed. “Being a killer is in your blood, your legacy.”

“Good.” Rage powered Isla through her words. “So you…won’t…be taken by surprise…when I kill you.”

The witch grinned, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You have far greater monsters to slay, Luna of Deimos.”

Isla knew she’d reached the peak of whatever power she’d muster, and one last time, her wolf emerged. She freed herself from the rogue’s hold, and her claws tore through flesh with a vengeance.

The witch screamed as blood flowed down her face from the long scratches crossing over her features, what remained of her eye, her torn lip. And Isla could do nothing but fall to the ground in a heap at her feet. The witch’s blood rained down on her skin as she battled her body to move, but she couldn’t. She was so exhausted that even the sharpness of the needle, the burning pain from the poison were simply signs she was still alive.

“Get her up!” the witch roared, and Isla was lifted violently.

The liquid flowed through every bend and curve of her body, and her wolf thrashed, shuddered, and whimpered. It fought and fought as the bond twisted and tugged until the beast went wholly still.

And one last pull from Kai—hard, pleading, and desperate—was the last thing Isla felt.