Chapter 52
I wouldn’t fall.
I crawled. I growled. I bled into the moss.
And then, out of nowhere, the air changed. A new sound cracked through the woods.
Thwack.
The rogue in front of me dropped, his body jerking sideways like something yanked the life out of him. An arrow jutted from his spine.
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Another turned to run–thwack. He collapsed, face–first into the brush.
The third took one look and bolted, but he didn’t make it far.
The arrows came clean. Precise. Unforgiving.
My vision was fading–shifting in and out like an old television losing its signal—but I
remember the blur of movement above me. Someone kneeling beside me, the scent of fear
and steel and something familiar in her hair.
A voice, sharp but shaky, whispering that I’d be okay. That help was coming.
Then everything went black.
When I woke, I was still in the forest, barely conscious. Floating. Bleeding. Breathing, but
barely. And when I blinked through the haze–red, green, pain–I saw her.
Cassandra.
She was fifteen then. Just a girl. Pale, shaking, a silver cut blooming on her arm. Her eyes
were wide with horror. She held the bow like it had burned her, and next to her on the grass sat a quiver with only a few arrows left.
“You’re Silverclaw, aren’t you?” she’d asked me, kneeling down to help me sit up.
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Chapter 52
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In her hand was a piece of cloth that looked like it had been torn off of someone’s shirt. She
held it out and gingerly put it to the wound on my head, which was still weeping blood.
“Yes,” I’d said weakly. “You look familiar.”
“I’m from the Eastern Ridge Pack,” she had said, pulling her hand back, looking distastefully at the tacky smear of blood I’d left on it. “My father has been negotiating for Silverclaw protection.”
She’d been out for a walk, she said. She saw the rogues. Saw me.
Saw what they were doing.
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“Goddess,” I’d said, thinking that the Goddess truly had sent me a savior. “I’ll make sure that your pack gets it. You saved my life.”
“I-” she’d started, thinking she didn’t know exactly who I was.
“I’m the Alpha’s son,” I’d said. “I’ll tell my father what you did here today. Your pack will
have an ally for life. I swear it.”
I shouldn’t have been swearing anything back then. A twelve–year–old heir didn’t really have the juice to convince the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in the nation to do
anything.
I think knowing how tenuous a promise I’d just made on my father’s behalf had somehow
made me make my next vow…
“And,” I’d said. “I swear you’ll always have the protection you’ve just given me. You saved
my life. I owe you mine. I will protect you. Always.”
Twelve years old. Covered in blood and bruises. I’d made a vow with more fire in my chest
than I’d ever felt before.
At the time, I’d meant it.
***
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Chapter 52
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. And heard an answering sigh next to me.
“Something bothering you?” I asked Joe without looking.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You. You’ve been brooding since we left.”
“I don’t brood,” I said, though I absolutely did.
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He gave me a look. “You’ve got that ‘storm incoming‘ vibe. And that’s usually when things go sideways.”
I leaned my head back against the seat. “They already have.”
A loud thump rocked the car and snapped me back to the present.
“What the hell-” Joe jerked forward.
Another thump. This one louder. Closer.
The driver hit the brakes. The SUV skidded sideways, tires spitting gravel as we came to a
stop.
My body went tense. Years of training kicked in before fear could.
Joe’s hand was already on the walkie clipped to his belt.
“Eyes up,” he barked. “Team One, report!”
Crackle. Then: “It’s a rogue attack! Left flank–there’s movement in the trees!”
Before he could finish, a window shattered–rocks or something heavier crashing through
- it. Glass sprayed the seats, glinting in the light.
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