Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) (4 page)

Chapter Six

The procession to Kele’s mating passed through the den. Her pack lined the walls and cheered. Some calls were a little rawer than she cared for, but she forced a laugh anyway. Kele wasn’t completely sure what “doggy style” meant, but she assumed by tomorrow morning she would know. Most of her companions were male hunters and she’d never felt comfortable asking them about sex. It would have seemed like she was asking for a private lesson. Maybe she could have asked Ahote, her private guard for years? No, that would have gone badly. Just the idea sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine. His idea of intimacy and hers probably didn’t match.

She waved at the female crafters who had beaded her dress. The only real female friend she’d had was Susan, who lived in a rival pack. Susan could have explained sex to her better than her mother. From her mother’s crude portrait scratched into the dirt of Kele’s bedroom floor, she understood the basics of where certain body parts had to fit. Somehow, she thought there was more to it than that, or males like Ahote wouldn’t dedicate their lives to the act.

They meandered through the dark maze of caves that protected their den from intruders and left her happy people behind. The pack would not accompany them. Since the alphas left with her, most of the hunters stayed to defend the den. It wouldn’t be the first time in shifter history that a den was attacked during a mating celebration.

When she and her mate returned in a few days, the wine would flow freely. She’d heard some of the omegas practicing with their instruments so they could be ready for the dancing and song requests during the feast.

It would be nice to be celebrated for a change.

Inali waited by the exit and fell in next to her as they strolled through the woods toward Temple lands. Everyone had shifted to feral form but her.

His gaze fell upon the amulet hanging from her neck. “Your mother told me of that gift. Do you think it’s wise to wear something from another male?” He sniffed. “It even carries Benic’s scent.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Kele.” He said her name as if she were a pup in trouble.

“I would welcome a reaction from my mate-to-be, but I doubt the amulet will be noticed. If anything, it will remind the Yaundeeshaw of our wealth and our strong connection to Benic.”

Inali growled low and quiet when she mentioned the vampire’s name. “He rejected our invitation. He is no longer welcome on our land, let alone our den.”

“You’ll have to forgive him eventually. Most of our power is tied to the vampires. We can’t afford to alienate Benic.”

His step faltered. “You, of all people, know why I can’t do this.” He appeared genuinely shocked.

“I, of all people, will ask a blood price of Benic for taking me to his castle against my will. I will use this money to restore the Temple and you can increase the price of your wine.” She gave him a small smile. “His pride suffered more than anything from that adventure. If not for Ahote and Sorin, it could have ended much worse.”

At the mention of the Apisi alpha, her father flattened his ears. They had met once after Sorin had rescued her and Susan. Her father had given Sorin a handsome gift of gold for his poor pack in recognition of the Apisi alpha’s part in saving his daughter. Kele wouldn’t declare their packs allies, but at least they no longer called each other enemies.

“You will make a fine alpha one day. If this hunter proves worthy in future challenges, he should beg you to keep him. Our pack will always need a strong alpha couple to rule them.”

What if she didn’t love him after a year? She wouldn’t give voice to this question. Her father would probably laugh at the idea. She had always thought her parents loved each other, but by watching Sorin with Susan, she had realized that her parents shared a love for power. It wasn’t the same thing.

She wanted what Susan and Sorin had fought tooth and claw for. But what did she know of love? She’d almost given everything to an omega male who’d been the first to show any real attention to her as a female.

Desperate. That was what she’d been.

Then why did she still dream of Peder every night?

Stupid, stupid heart. She had to let Peder’s memory go as he had let her go.

She crested the hill leading to the Temple. The ancient stone walls loomed ahead. All her life, the site of worship had filled her with peace, but today dread lived in her heart. She cared not for this fate. Her mother called this mating an opportunity, her father a treaty, but she named it a prison. She’d agreed to this farce in a moment of weakness when she’d craved her parent’s approval.

Who was she trying to fool? She still craved their approval, but she’d come to realize they did not share the same ideals and her wish to gain their praise couldn’t ever be fulfilled.

Tracing the amulet necklace with her fingertips, she drew courage. Benic had been her friend since childhood and his betrayal still stung. Yet out of that darkness, she’d found the trigger to shift to feral form. She’d found the body to go with her hunter’s soul. This mating couldn’t take that from her. She’d faced worse when Benic had captured her and Susan. At least her mate wouldn’t chain her to a wall.

Her mother led the tiny mating party with three hunters. She noted Ahote wasn’t among them. He’d been against this mating from the beginning.

Yaundeeshaw shifters stood at the base of the Temple stairs alongside a male in civil form. He appeared as she had expected, tall with strong shoulders. His pale brown hair hung down his back in untamed tangles, and even from this distance, his gray gaze latched onto hers.

Nahuel.

He wore a leather kilt the males of her people preferred and a light blue sweater that appeared new.

From here, the mating parties would enter the Temple where, in front of their alphas, he’d smudge secretions from the glands under his ears onto her wrists to temporarily mark her as his. Her stomach rolled. Then they’d have to undress and shift to feral form. For the next three days, they would roam both packs’ lands together and get acquainted until their scents mingled enough to mark them as mated.

She swallowed with a throat gone dry and stopped in front of him.

He easily stood five hands taller. Bowing slightly at the waist, he offered her his wrist to smell. “I’m named Nahuel.”

She slipped her wrist toward his nose. “I’m named Kele.” Nothing sparked at his touch. Not like it had with Peder. Would her parents disown her if she changed her mind?

She glanced at her mother, who sternly glared as if she could read Kele’s mind. How did she do that?

After three days together, she and Nahuel would have to decide which pack they would return to and live with. A portion of her desired his pack. She’d have to face a number of challenges since she’d be a new threat to the female hunters but she wouldn’t have her parents watching every mistake.

The sound of musket fire filled the forest and the acrid scent of gunpowder burned her nose.

Hunters in the distance howled a warning. As one, they tensed and scanned the surrounding forest. Nahuel shifted to feral form, tearing through his clothes.

A red bloom formed on her father’s chest. He stared down at the hole, where his heart was, before his legs failed and he folded to the dirt.

“No!” She reached for him, but a heavy weight dragged her to the ground. Struggling against Nahuel’s body, she could do nothing as she watched her mother tear headlong into the woods toward the vampire hunters, who sprang from the foliage in an ambush.

The attackers outnumbered their small party. How had they masked their scent? Why would Benic send his men to kill her father? If he thought to take her again, he would find a well-trained hunter under this civil form.

Another volley of shots cracked against her eardrums. Someone shouted, “Don’t kill them all. We need to replenish our stock.”

Her mother and the Yaundeeshaw alphas fell in a cloud of smoke and blood.

Darts flew through the air thick like mosquitoes. Snarling, she shifted to feral form under Nahuel’s unconscious weight and pushed him off. Her mother could still be alive. She might only be injured. Kele hurried to her father’s side and fell next to him, rolling his body only to meet his unseeing eyes. Sorrow crushed her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

No.

She stroked his pale fur.

“Look at the pelt on the white one. Don’t let it get away.”

She twisted to see a vampire pointing in her direction. He wanted her? Then the bloodsucker would get to meet her face-to-face. Keeping low to the ground, she raced over dead branches and pack members. They would be avenged if it took her last breath to do it.

Screams stabbed into Peder’s consciousness and he jerked awake, not in full control of his limbs. Flailing, he smacked something solid that stung the back of his hands. He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his visions. Shots rang against his ears. The stink of gunpowder overwhelmed his nose and blinded him from smelling his surroundings.

Where was he? Who was making that horrid high-pitched scream? He had to help but suddenly it seemed as if he’d grown eight legs and had no control over what direction they moved. Had he gotten into Dorian’s lightning water again? After the last time, he’d sworn never to touch that stuff.

His stomach didn’t want to turn itself inside out, though. Last time he’d gotten drunk it had taken all day for the retching to stop.

He rolled over and peered between bars. How had he ended up in a cage? He grabbed the cold metal and tugged with weak arms. Outside, a vampire ran through the gunpowder smoke with a musket at the ready. He aimed at a white shifter in feral form as she raced low to the ground toward him.

Kele? What was she doing in his nightmare? “Duck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The vampire’s shot barely missed her as she hit the ground at his warning.

She then jumped the bloodsucker and tore his throat out with the practiced grace of a seasoned hunter. The sheer violence shook Peder to the core. The Kele he knew didn’t have these fighting skills, or taste for blood. What had happened to her?

He stared as a group of vampires carried shifters to his cage and dumped them in with him. None seemed familiar. There hadn’t been a battle between shifters and vampires on these lands for a century. What caused this?

“Don’t shoot her! That pelt will bring us more money than the golden one.” A vampire dressed in rusted chain mail stepped into his view. He lifted a tube to his mouth and blew a dart into Kele’s neck.

Shaking the bars, Peder cried out as Kele fell to her knees. He rubbed a sore spot on his throat. He’d seen that vampire in the mountain pass separating Apisi lands from the Temple. He had more vampires with him now. When he’d taken Peder, there had only been four of them. Peder didn’t recall this cage, one drawn by horses, but his memory was still foggy.

Kele’s gaze rose slowly and met his. Her eyes widened as she mouthed his name but no sound reached his ears. If he was to die now, at least, it would be with the knowledge that she hadn’t forgotten him.

Shifter blood soaked Temple soil. The packs would call for retribution. He fought the cage walls and only gained bruised shoulders for his effort. “Kele.” He reached for her as two vampires carried her to his cage. Only then did he notice the bars separating their prison.

The bloodsuckers tossed her into the other side with the females.

With his arms between the bars, he pulled her body close and stroked her soft, pale fur. He’d wanted to stop her mating ceremony, but not at this cost.

“Hey, the gold one’s awake.”

“The dart must have just nicked him last time.”

A sting landed between his shoulder blades. The fog closed in but he clung to Kele through the bars. Somehow he’d save her. He’d find the hunter hidden inside him and bring her home.

Chapter Seven

The cramps in Peder’s shoulders seized him awake. Groaning, all he managed was to roll onto his back, which made the pain much worse. He couldn’t move his arms. Metal cuffs clasped his wrists tight behind his back, almost stopping the circulation to his hands.

By the dark moon, where the fuck was he now? He blinked the fog from his vision. If the vampires kept striking him with their darts, he’d become an expert at waking dazed and confused. There were other skills he’d rather perfect.

He tried to move his legs. His ankles seemed bound but not as snugly as his arms. If the opportunity presented itself, he could shuffle at a snail’s pace, then the vampires
really
would have a hard time catching him. He let his head fall back against what felt like grass and blew out a frustrate breath.

The bloodsuckers had dumped them all on an open field. A fire roared close to some tents where Peder could see his captors preparing tools in the heat of red coals.

Kele!

He twisted around, ignoring the blinding pain in his arms until he squirmed into a seated position. He spotted her white coat only two shifters away among the sleeping bodies. Quiet as a mouse, he crept on his knees. Panting, he lay next to her until his cramped shoulders eased into a dull roar. He buried his nose into her soft fur and took a deep breath.

Under the sheen of fear still coating her body, he scented prickly evergreen mixed in with the bite of winter. Kele was his breath of fresh air. She cleared his head and sent his pulse racing. Goddess, how would he save her? He licked the underside of her muzzle.

The vampires had mentioned both of their pelts bringing a good price at the market. He lifted his head to watch as the bloodsuckers chatted by the fire, passing a bottle of wine. The biggest among them heated his tools in the bright red coals. Were they preparing to skin them? Peder swallowed around the lump in his throat.

As a pup, he’d begged the older members of his pack to tell him tales of the vampire wars. Sometimes the storytellers lost themselves in memories and forgot they were speaking to a child, revealing details to freeze his soul. They themselves had only been children during this time, but the vampires hadn’t spared anyone in those days. If the vampires wanted to keep their pelts nice, they probably wouldn’t beat the shifters, but skinning them alive was a possibility. He shuddered.

Clink. Clink. Clink,
tapped a claw on the edge of a knife.

Come out and play Peder. You’re always so eager to play with others.

Why not me?

He shook his head violently. It had been years since that voice had plagued him. Peder had watched Sorin kill his tormentor, watched as his throat had been torn out. Peder had lapped at the blood that had pooled under his body. Peder had been the first of the pack to do it and accept Sorin as his new alpha. No one relished the old alpha’s death as much as he did.

Rolling on his back, he caught his breath and stared at the unfamiliar stars above. Susan taught him about constellations. After a few moments, he finally spotted Orion, but it was farther north than he’d expected. Did that mean they’d traveled south? He peered beyond their camp but couldn’t see the forest or any familiar landscape except a distant mountain range. Were those the mountains he crossed to travel from home to Temple lands? They seemed so small from here.

His ears flattened. They must be out of Benic’s territory then. All Benic desired was Kele. He wouldn’t have had her chained and dragged out onto the ground. By vampire law, he owned the tribe’s forest home and ruled their packs, but he’d rarely exercised any of those rights. Peder’s gaze traveled back to their captors. They were in bigger trouble than he’d originally surmised.

The Payami and the Yaundeeshaw would have found the massacre at the Temple by now. How long would they fight among themselves, tossing blame before they marched on Benic’s castle? All the while, he and Kele would be taken farther and farther from home until their trails went cold. His heart froze. No rescue.

Kele stirred.

He nuzzled her throat in comfort until she rolled to face him.

She blinked slowly. “Peder?”

His ears shot forward at the sound of his name on her tongue.

She struggled with her restraints until she fell back onto her side. “I thought I’d been dreaming.” She lifted her head, taking in their surroundings and the vampires around the fire. “It wasn’t a nightmare then. My parents are truly dead?” Her voice hiccupped on the last word as if struggling with tears.

He licked her eyes closed and did his best to support her body with his arms imprisoned behind his back. There were no words of comfort he could offer. Things were bad and from the looks of the tools in the fire, they were about to get worse. “I’m so sorry.”

She nodded before resting her head on his shoulder, pressing her lithe body along his as if months of silence and separation didn’t exist between them. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to survive.”

She lifted her face to meet his gaze.

“I’m very good at it. Stay close. I’ll do my best to protect you.”

The vampire with the darting skills lifted a metal rod out of the coals. “One of them is awake. Is the iron hot enough? I want to get this over with.” The tool glowed red in the night. “Looks good. Grab him.” He pointed in Peder’s direction.

“Pretend to be asleep.” He pushed away from Kele and hoped they hadn’t seen her moving yet.

Three vampires surrounded him. Two grabbed him by the aching shoulders and lifted him to his feet. He clamped his muzzle shut against a moan of pain. The more noise a victim made, the more the attacker wanted to hear it. He’d learned that at a young age.

Stay small, stay quiet, and maybe he won’t notice me.

Kele struggled to her feet with the most vicious snarl he’d ever heard from a hunter. She snapped her teeth at the closest vampire and earned a hard knock on the muzzle with a club. With a yelp, she hit the ground.

“Bring that one as well,” called the leader.

“She didn’t mean it,” he pleaded. “She’s just frightened.”

They dragged him to the fire and pushed him to his knees. With a key, one of the vampires unlocked his wrists. While the first vampire locked his free hand to his ankles, the second chained his other hand to a block of stained wood.

“What are you going to do?” His voice came out strained.

The third vampire dragged a kicking Kele to the fireside and forced her to her knees on the other side of the wooden block.

Fear bled into her eyes. “Peder?” she whispered and it tore his heart.

He couldn’t answer her. Whatever he said would be used against them both. If he comforted her, they’d only torture her more to punish him. He’d played these games before. He knew how to win.

“Peder.” The leader stroked his head. “You have lovely fur. I wonder what you look like in civil form. If you shift for me, I’ll spare her.”

“I can’t while I’m in chains.”

The leader struck him. “Liar.” He held up the hot iron. “I’ve been dealing with your kind for over a century.” His gaze traveled to Kele. “She should be scared.” Then he set the glowing red metal against the back of Peder’s hand.

The air was sucked out of Kele’s chest. Peder’s intense gaze focused on hers as the brand was set to his skin. Jaws clenched, he didn’t utter a sound. Neither did he pant or squirm. Muscles taut, back straight, he breathed in and out through his nose in a labored rhythm.

“Stop it.” Her commanding tone came out reflexively and sharply.

The vampire leader jerked the brand off Peder’s flesh. “Don’t worry, my lady. You’re next.” They unchained Peder’s burned hand and dunked it in a bucket of clear water.

His gaze never left hers as they chained her hands in a similar manner.

She stared at the block of wood. “Why are you doing this?” Yanking at the chain, she discovered she couldn’t bend the metal. It was vampire-made steel. Something shifters hadn’t perfected and couldn’t break.

“How else would you like me to mark my property? I lack your scent glands and even if I could mark you that way, my buyers lack the noses to smell those marks.” He rolled the iron in the coals, heating the metal red once more. “Unless you want to become my private pet? I don’t like brand marks on my females.” He ran his hand over her back. “Shift for me. Let me see if you’re worth keeping.”

Kele stared at the red coals and shivered. She was alpha born. No one owned her. Let them mark her body but her spirit would be free. She was Payami forever. Leaning toward the leader, she stretched out as if to accept his offer.

He held out his hand.

With sharp teeth, she snapped, but only bit air.

He waved his fingers. “Like I said, sweetie, I’ve dealt with your kind for decades and I still have all my fingers.” He set the brand to her hand.

Shifter skin sizzled just like any other type of flesh. Sharp heat knifed through her hand, spreading from her wrist, up her arm. Howling mixed in with yelps filled her ears until she realized those noises came from her. She flung her body from side to side but couldn’t get free of her chains. “Stop, stop, stop.”

The night seemed to close in. Her vision narrowed. She couldn’t get enough air.

Then cool water engulfed her hand.

Her arms were guided behind her back and restrained again. She had no strength left.

“There’s too much hunter in this one. She might be a hard sell.”

Strong arms lifted her body from the ground and she was dragged back to her packmates, most of whom had awakened and stared in heavy silence at her return.

Nahuel crouched among the Yaundeeshaw shifters. He offered her no words of comfort or support. Instead, he jumped the closest vampire with two other packmates in a foolish attack.

Chained and collared, the shifters were left poorly prepared to fight properly. Any hunter should have known the attack would fail, yet these idiots fell to the vampire’s feet easily and were beaten soundly for it.

Peder squirmed next to her until his upper body supported hers. “Save your strength,” he whispered in her ear. “If you love him, I’ll do my best to save him as well.” He licked behind her ear as omegas did as a comfort. Such a simple gesture, but it lent her the courage to keep her eyes open and watch the vampires drag Nahuel to the fire.

She hated them all. What made vampires so special they thought they could own the world? She cringed at Nahuel’s cries of pain, which reflected her own. Her hand throbbed with her racing pulse and she buried her face against Peder’s chest.

He seemed bigger than she remembered. Peder had always been beautiful but in a delicate, fine-muscled way. His chest pillowed her head better than she’d thought possible, and the sound of his steady heartbeat muffled Nahuel’s screams.

Peder had held his tongue while being branded. He’d stood strong and made it seem a minor discomfort. She knew the truth. So did everyone who had watched her and Nahuel.

One by one, the vampires dragged, beat, and fought each shifter to the fire, branding all with the leader’s mark. Owned like livestock. It didn’t translate in their culture. Strays? It was the best description but somehow with the vampires, their position seemed worse. Screams filled the night air and no rescue arrived.

Peder continued to shower her with comforting licks and nuzzles.

She closed her eyes and prayed to a goddess not many believed in anymore. How could they when the Goddess let vampires destroy their lives and culture? Did prayers fall on deaf ears? Had Kele’s parents’ souls gone to the dark without the Goddess to welcome them to her bosom? Tears trickled from her eyes.

No one could see her weakness, but from the way Peder’s shoulder stiffened, she knew he sensed her tears. He sighed and rested his head upon hers. No false words of reassurance fell from his lips. He just cradled her as best he could and let her grieve in quiet.

Her chest felt hollow.
Papa
…she hadn’t called him that since she’d been a pup. In her heart, she’d always thought of them as her mama and papa. Who would be her anchor now? She sobbed as silently as she could manage and her throat paid the price with the strain. What of her pack? Their alphas were gone. She’d been on her way to the top of the hierarchy and disrupted all the dominance statuses of the female hunters. The challenges would be deadly. Packs could be destroyed if a couple didn’t gain control fast. She’d broken Tegrathe’s leg. She wouldn’t be able to compete. Or if she did, she’d die.

Kele took a shuddering breath. She had to get back.

And she had to take Nahuel with her. She couldn’t fight as an alpha without a mate strong enough to win. He was a hunter and knew how to win challenges. She listened to him whimpering not far from where she lay against Peder. At least, she assumed he could fight. Those noises made her less confident.

“No,” Peder whispered.

She jerked from his chest. Had she spoken aloud? But his gaze wasn’t on her but in the direction of the fire. She twisted around and gasped.

A female had shifted to civil form. The manacles were large enough to fit a shifter-sized wrist so she had the room to shrink. She stood naked in front of the vampire males. The firelight glistened off her smooth skin. Silken hair the shade of sunflowers flowed down her back.

The leader nodded.

She was led to a tent unbranded.

Kele opened her mouth to shout at the female to run.

“Don’t.” Peder’s soft command whipped into her ear. “There’s no saving her now. You’ll only bring attention to yourself and make them hurt her more.”

“You’d cower here all night?” Fury struck like a snake that had been coiled in her belly.

“If fighting while chained like prized dogs would work, then I’d stand next to you.” His gaze traveled to Nahuel. “But it won’t.” He nodded to the vampires and continued to whisper his venom words in her ear. “Look at them. Look how they move. These aren’t merchant vampires working at trading posts. They’re warriors and they’re good at it.”