Moon Burned (The Wolf Wars Book 1) Page 20

  The look he gave me then could be called nothing but suspicious. “No… actually,” he said, surprising me with his honesty, though I tried not to let that show. “Some of them have been adults, but they’ve been untraceable, as if they’d somehow…”

  It was an effort to feign only mild interest. “Removed them?” I finished for him. “Is that even possible?”

  The Hound gave me a smile that was handsome enough to break a heart were it not frozen over. “I suppose anything is possible, little Wolf.”

  “What are they going to do?” I asked, knowing my words were dangerous territory. I cleared my throat. “The Masters, I mean. I bet they’re not happy about losing their… assets.”

  Ryker was silent for a handful of moments during which I found it difficult to draw air. Then, he said, “Whatever it takes to catch whoever’s responsible.”

  Despite the effort it took, I didn’t drop his stare. “You’re… so different than everyone says you are.”

  From the way his shoulders relaxed a fraction, I could tell this was an easier topic, though not by much. “And what does everyone say I am?”

  “That you’re as mean as they come, and that you… murdered your own brother for gain.”

  The Hound moved with a suddenness that surprised me, his handsome face twisting in anger as he brought it close to my own and spoke between clenched teeth. “I loved my brother, but I was left no choice. That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

  I touched the collar at my neck as he eased out of my personal space again, and said slowly, “You can’t be a good guy if you agree that some of us should be shackled and enslaved, if you continue to support the oppression of your own kind.”

  Ryker’s eyes were as intense as the sea during a storm as he looked at me. “If you know something about what’s happening with those pups, Rook,” he said, using the nickname I actually preferred over all the others, “you need to tell me. If you don’t, and Ramsey finds out, there won’t be anything I can do to help you.”

  “Is it that there won’t be any way to help, or that you won’t help?” I asked, then added, “And if you knew of a way to remove the collars, would you tell me?”

  Ryker folded his strong arms over his chest. “You answer first.”

  I spread my hands. “I already told you I don’t know anything about what’s happening with the pups.”

  He nodded, as if he’d expected me to say as much. “There is no way for me to help,” he said. “There’s no way to help any of us.”

  Ares had suspected that I would not get very far with Ryker, and he had planned accordingly. The next day, he met me at The Cascades, telling me that he might have a lead for us… provided I survive the day.

  Because after months of preparation, my first fight in The Games was finally here. In a handful of hours, I would live or die, kill or be killed.

  Kalene would not be fighting until the next day, and she surprised me by pulling me into a tight embrace as we stood watching the sunrise that morning. Her long, black hair had been left unbound, and though she did not cry, there was true sadness in her dark eyes as she looked at me.

  I gave her a wry smile. “Don’t look at me like that,” I told her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to win, so there’s no need to be sad.”

  Kalene shook her head. “I know you will,” she said. “But even when we win… we lose, my friend.”

  I sighed my agreement, looking out over the ocean. “The life of a Dog… For what it’s worth, I think you deserve better.”

  Kalene’s red lips pulled up in an almost smile. “I feel the same about you, Rook.”

  A familiar male voice chimed in. “Well, you two should just have each other’s babies,” Oren said, swinging a beefy arm around my shoulder.

  Kalene gave him a droll look. “If we could do that, Oren, my dear, we’d have absolutely zero use for you or any of your male counterparts.”

  If the weight of the impending fight had not been upon me, I might have laughed. As it was, I had to settle for a small smile. When the two of them crushed me in a hug between them, they may well have been squeezing my heart as well.

  Though I knew it meant death for three others, I sent up a silent prayer that the three of us be victorious.

  What I didn’t consider was the fact that some fates really were worse than death.

  In some cases, death was a mercy.

  35

  Once again I was shackled at the wrists and ankles and loaded into a barred wagon. The streets of Marisol were quiet, because all of the citizens and visitors were already at the arena. Time took on the sort of pace that demands attention to every ticking second, like the flowing sand in an hourglass.

  The beautiful buildings, all constructed of that multi-colored seaglass, the cobblestone streets, with their silent sentry green lampposts, passed by without me really seeing them. Before I knew it, the wagon was trundling into the shadow of a looming structure; so large it blotted out the sun. The roaring within the arena was enough to set the building shuddering, and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep them from doing the same.

  The wagon stopped. The barred door was opened. My Dog companions and I were yanked out by the chains around our wrists and shoved toward a narrow passage that led into the arena. I followed the Dog in front of me, shuffling our feet due to the limited movement provided by the shackles. As we entered the dark, damp hallway leading us toward our fates, it felt very much like journeying to the belly of a beast.

  And the sound within… The sound was fantastic. Absolutely world-shaking.

  A mixture of scents bombarded my nose—roasting peanuts, spun sugar, flavored meats, sweat, and blood. Blood most of all. My heart began beating somewhere in my throat, my eyes glowing Wolf-Gold in order to pierce the darkness.

  A hundred paces… one hundred fifty, and still we had not reached the center. The place must be even bigger than I remembered, a goliath of death and depravation. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed, which didn’t help a bit.

  Then a door opened on the right side of the small hallway we were traversing, and we were shoved inside. The room was just a small cell that was likely built right under the stands where thousands were waiting to be entertained by the spilling of blood.

  There, we waited. Now that I had a mind to, I counted and found I was with three other males and two other females, none of whom I knew, though I had seen them at training and in passing. No one came to remove our shackles or to see if we had any last requests.

  Time pressed onward, each second counted with the rapid beats of our hearts. Then the door opened, and a Hound barked a name that didn’t belong to me. One of the male Dogs rose and followed the Hound out.

  The male Dog did not return.

  The crowd stacked over our heads roared and stomped and shouted, and bits of dust sprinkled from the cell’s ceiling and drifted down upon us. The same Hound returned and called another name. This time one of the other females rose and followed him out.

  An indeterminable amount of time passed.

  The female did not return, either.

  And on and on it went, until there was only myself and one other male left in the small, damp room.

  When the Hound returned, Bear-killer was the next name on his lips.

  I rose to my feet, finding them as steady and reliable as always, despite the fact that my stomach was tied into knots. The Hound slammed and relocked the door to the cell behind me, sealing inside the last male Dog that had been in my company.

  Without a word, the Hound crouched down and unlocked the chains around my ankles, tossing them against the wall of the hallway, where they clinked against other shackles that had likewise been discarded. Next, he removed the chains around my wrists and tossed those as well.

  The Hound gave me a challenging look, to which I responded with a wicked grin. It was not uncommon for a Dog to decide to kill the Hound about to throw them into The Ring. In fact, this job was the riskiest for a Hound
to be assigned. My smile meant only that I knew this, and if I wanted to, I could likely kill this son of a bitch before any one was able to put me down.

  In answer, the Hound placed a hand on the baton at his hip, and I rolled my eyes at his show of weakness.

  He needn’t worry. Killing a Hound in lieu of a fight was the act of a hopeless Dog. And I was not a hopeless Dog.

  This thought struck me with such force that, for a moment, I forgot just where I was and what was about to happen.

  I was no longer hopeless. If Ares was right, and if Yarin and Yerik were to be believed… There was the possibility of a life beyond this. Of a better future. Of… freedom.

  Now it was not my nerves that were making my throat tight, but the unfeasibility that had always been attached to that word.

  But time for thinking of such things was up. I followed the Hound down the hallway, where a red door waited at the end. Then I was at that door, and it was opening. Inside, a metal spiral staircase led up and up and up.

  The roar of the crowd hit me as hard as the irony tang of Wolf-blood, and I was shoved through.

  The voice of the announcer bellowed, “Help me welcome to The Ring, Rook the Bear-killer!”

  There was so much to take in that I didn’t know where to look first. People stacked atop people surrounded me on every side, the stands in which they sat stretching up toward the heavens. The top of the dome had been removed, and was open to the blue sky above, where white, fluffy clouds drifted lazily by as though carnage were not taking place below.

  And that was just the scene above me.

  To my right, there was a rail-less walkway, about five feet in width, and it encircled the entire circumference of the place, coming full circle to my left. There was an identical walkway straight ahead, which let to the center of the arena—the area where death would be dealt. The center was also without boundaries or edges, nothing to keep Dogs from plunging right over the edge.

  Over the edge, which led to a straight drop and murky, churning waters fifty feet below. Ryker had warned me that Ramsey was going to make things more interesting for this year’s Games, but nothing could have prepared me for this. As I stared over the edge of the platform on which I stood, something told me that murky water might not be all that waited below.

  “Shift!” bellowed the voice of the announcer, seeming to come from every direction at once, until the roaring of the crowd drowned it out.

  I pulled my gaze away from the watery depths and saw that my opponent stood on an identical platform on the exact opposite side of the arena. Serilda the Sour stared back at me before stripping her clothes off so that she could shift into her Wolf form. The crowd’s response to this had me baring my teeth as I made my shift instantly and then wiggled out of the clothing.

  Something struck me hard in the head, and I stumbled sideways, the soft pads of my paws sliding over the walkway. Just as I righted myself, I was struck again on the other side, my jaws snapping at the open air in that direction in frustration.

  Something whizzed past my head before spiraling away into the distance, and I finally got a look at what had struck me.

  Heads of lettuce. Some of the people in the crowd were throwing heads of fucking lettuce. And that first one had nearly sent me over the edge of this ridiculous walkway. I guessed they didn’t appreciate the fact that I had shifted before getting naked. I snarled at them, my ears flattening on my head and the fur on my back rising.

  Across the arena, Serilda was finishing her own transformation. In Wolf form, her fur was as white as a fresh snow, her eyes like glittering chips of ice.

  “Fight!” boomed the voice of the announcer.

  The white Wolf prowled forward, and I went to meet her. The narrow walkway straight ahead led to the center, which was a larger, circular platform where the blood of Wolves already fallen still stained. With every step I took, the world around me faded further into nothing. Then I was running full tilt, and the white Wolf was doing the same.

  We collided at the center, fangs flashing and snapping. My jaws closed around her flank but could not keep purchase. At the same time, I felt her teeth scrape over my back, though I did not feel the pain if there was any.

  No, pain would be felt later.

  If there was a later.

  We snapped, lunged, and rolled, both of us searching for that deadly opening, that soft spot where the teeth could sink deep and sever something essential. The taste of her blood filled my mouth, a sampling that I needed to swell. I did not fight the sensation of the blood lust coming over me, though it was not a state I savored stepping into. On the contrary, it was simply necessary.

  I danced back as the white Wolf darted in… and miscalculated my movements just a fraction. That was all it took. Her iron jaws clamped down on the back of my neck, making me howl out involuntarily. I was vaguely aware of an uproarious reaction from the crowd, but they may as well have been a million miles away.

  Bucking, twisting, and thrashing with every ounce of strength I contained, I managed to free myself from her hold. But it cost me. The white Wolf was no fool; she knew there were other ways to claim this victory that just spilling my blood.

  As her grip began to slip, she whipped her head to the side and sent my body flying, all the things around me merging into a blur. In this form, I was almost entirely unable to halt my momentum. My heart jammed itself into my throat as that rail-less edge came into view along with the murky, churning water below.

  I hit the platform a half handful of inches away from that ledge, watching in horror as my tail slid over the empty space… and then one of my hind legs. For a terrifying moment that could only have been a heartbeat, but felt infinitely longer, I was sure that I was going over.

  But then I was scrambling for purchase, clawing my way back onto the platform as quickly as I could manage. Behind me, in the spot where my tail had been only a moment ago, something enormous broke the surface of the water.

  The crowd screamed in brutal pleasure.

  I stared in absolute stunned horror as I watched a scaled, serpentine sea creature burst out of the murky water, maw yawning wide enough to swallow three of me whole. It’s green, diamond-shaped eye pinned me where I stood, just out of its reach, promising that should I make the mistake of dangling a limb over the edge again, it would not miss a second time.

  This was almost enough to make me forget the more immediate threat. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if Serilda had not been as astonished at the sea monster’s appearance as I was, she could have easily taken me out during the distraction.

  As it was, we both seemed to remember each other at the same moment. I darted away from the edge of the platform, charging toward her as if my tail were on fire. I needed to end this. Now. There were too many variables to let it continue much longer.

  Apparently, Serilda was thinking the same thing. This time, however, when she attempted the same move that had cost me before, I was ready for her.

  A secret that I guarded with my life was that I never gave myself fully to my beast in these fights. Most fighters did surrender fully to their Wolves, and while this had many advantages, it also had a way of dampening the human cognitive skills. The power of the human brain was something I held in the highest regard, and so I was always careful to cling to it, keeping at least a thread attached at all times.

  I twisted my body in just the right way so that Serilda completely missed her target, which had been the soft spot under my throat. She came so close that I heard the click of her fangs as they snapped shut, felt her brush past me, stirring my fur like the kiss of a sweet summer breeze.

  That moment occurred to me in slow motion, the vivid details of the scene jumping out in sharp relief. I saw my opponent, Serilda, with her snow white coat and her blazing blue eyes. I watched the way her body twisted, her fluffy tail held close behind her hindquarters. I met her gaze as I rotated so swiftly that I became a blur, using a speed that would not be possible with a Wolf any larger.


  Serilda had not even finished her sail past me, had just only realized that she’d missed her target, when I dropped my head down low and charged forward… fast. So incredibly fast.

  The top of my hard head made stunning impact with the side of her strong and solid body, buckling it in a way that was not natural for a canine. A high-pitched, gut-wrenching whine was ripped out of her as I hit her with every ounce of strength I contained.

  Serilda’s ivory body took to the air, her four paws leaving the platform and her lupine face taking on a note of true terror. The moment was over in an instant, but I saw every second of it.

  The blood of those who’d come before me beneath my paws. The looming edge of the platform, where that murky water with its enormous sea monster waited below. The moment the white Wolf realized that there was nothing she could do to stall her momentum. The absolute thundering of the crowd as Serilda went over. The spray of the water as that sea serpent breached the surface, with it’s scaled head and diamond-shaped eyes. The outrageous width of its yawning maw, and the terrible swiftness with which it swallowed Serilda’s falling body, snatching her out of the air and snapping its jaws shut before plunging back into the murky, churning waters below.

  The massive crowd began to chant my name.

  Bear-killer! Bear-killer! Bear-killer!

  But all I could think about was the look that had captured Serilda’s features in those final moments. A look—that I knew from experience—would lend itself to the legion of ghosts that haunted my dreams.

  36

  Among the Dogs who had survived the day, there was no celebrating on the wagon ride back to our designated area. Still covered in the blood of our opponents, we returned in silence, each of us feeling as much the losers as we were the winners.

  Kalene was waiting for me near The Cascades, and I could tell that it took all her strength not to run to me. When I reached her, we clasped hands, and then she pulled me into a tight hug that hurt my sore body more than I would ever let on.