Page 10 of A League of Exiles


  “Yes. We’re also hoping to reach out to the Dhaxanians, provided they’re still holed up on their mountain, up north,” Scarlett replied, scratching Hundurr behind the ear.

  “You can spend the night here,” Colton said. “We’ll provide you with food and shelter, and you can try your luck with the Dhaxanians tomorrow. Although I doubt they’ll be much help. No one has seen or spoken to one of them in decades. Rumor is they’re all dead.”

  “I guess you’ve heard different rumors,” Dion smirked, “because we’re told the Dhaxanians are still up there, holding their ground.”

  Colton shrugged. “Either way, be careful. Try not to travel at night, either. The daemons fare much better in the dark than they do during the day.”

  “Thank you, Colton,” I replied, then offered a half smile. “I’m glad we’re able to count on you and your people for this.”

  “Father?” The voice of a young male Adlet reduced us all to silence, and we turned our heads to the right. Hundurr sprang to his feet and whimpered softly at the sight of two children, a male and a female, cloaked in animal skins and carrying two baskets of roots and vegetables they’d picked from the forest.

  They both stared at Hundurr, their amber eyes wide and glassy as they recognized him.

  “Saya, Embry, you’re back,” Colton said, then stood up and looked at Scarlett and me. “These are Hundurr’s children. They haven’t seen their father in two years.”

  “It’s him, isn’t it?” Saya asked, setting her basket down with slow movements. Colton nodded, and she let out a long, most painful sigh.

  They both came closer. Hundurr waited, still and quiet. “Does he know it’s us?” Embry murmured, taking a couple of steps forward, until there were only a couple of feet between him and Hundurr, his father-turned-pit-wolf. My stomach churned. I could only imagine how ravaged Hundurr probably was, deep down.

  He didn’t react to their proximity in any way, but I could see that glimmer of recognition in his red eyes. He knew exactly who they were. I had a feeling he was playing his pit wolf role, in a way, to make them think that he wasn’t truly there anymore—at least, that’s what I would’ve done, to spare my loved ones the suffering of seeing me in such a state.

  “I don’t know,” Colton breathed. “I don’t think we’ll ever see the real Hundurr again. I’m sorry. I think this creature is all that’s left of him.”

  Saya was the first to break down and cry, while Embry did his best to keep a straight face. He reached out, and Hundurr sniffed his fingers, then licked them. Saya came to the front, weeping, and Hundurr lowered his head farther, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck.

  She held him like that for a while, whispering in his ear. Hundurr listened and kept his gaze fixed on Embry. “He’s alive,” Embry whispered, his lower lip trembling. “That’s all that matters.”

  Hundurr huffed, then nuzzled Saya’s red curls. Embry then patted the top of his head and nodded slowly. They were all communicating without words, their blood connection stronger than any swamp witch magic.

  I understood, right then and there, that I couldn’t let Hundurr stay like that forever. He was in there, somewhere, between layers of darkness and suffering, and I knew I’d eventually find a way to bring the Adlet back to the surface.

  Scarlett sniffled by my side. A sharp pain clawed at my heart when I looked at her. Her suffering was mine, and I couldn’t bear to see her crying. She cared about Hundurr, and she’d become very attached to him—knowing what he’d been through was really doing a number on her. Coincidentally, I, too, was broken and dysfunctional. I understood the darkness that had turned Hundurr into a pit wolf. Except that I went on like that well after I turned back to my Druid self. I’d allowed the pain, the grief of losing Kyana, to turn me into a lifeless husk.

  I’d spent a lot of time wallowing in self-pity and grief, until she came along. Scarlett was my way out, my ray of sunshine, that glimmer of hope I held on to. She was the unexpected change in my life, the one who brought all of me back. Judging by how Hundurr looked at her, he saw the same creature as I did. I could tell, from his eyes, that he was fond of her.

  The Adlet inside him was harboring strong feelings toward her—feelings that would’ve made me uncomfortable, and downright jealous, in different circumstances. All the times he’d growled whenever I got close to her were starting to make sense. But maybe that was what Hundurr needed to get himself out of that state. My love for Kyana had helped me break out from my Destroyer form.

  As awkward as it sounded, maybe his feelings for Scarlett could do the same for him. I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to help Hundurr cross that threshold. One way or another, the Adlet was going to come back. I’d make sure of that.

  Scarlett

  We spent the next couple of hours learning more about the Adlets and how they’d been keeping the daemons at bay. While most daemons kept their distance from the pack and only came after them when orders came from the daemon city, there were still plenty of hunters who preferred stalking them, searching for their camps so they could consume their souls. Despite their apparent organization and allegiance to the king and his plans, the daemons were still savage and selfish and sought that temporary high that the soul offered.

  According to Colton, these rogue daemons believed that turning the Adlets into pit wolves was a waste because their souls were “absolutely delicious”. The Adlets had learned to hunt during the day, particularly when it was raining, mainly because the daemons were vulnerable without their invisibility spell—the wolves’ size was double that of a daemon, and their fangs and claws could inflict deadly damage.

  Saya and Embry stayed close to Hundurr throughout the evening, showering him with hugs and kisses. “Hundurr was a great father,” Colton said, watching the kids with their pit wolf dad. “He used to take them out hunting every morning, then out picking fruits and vegetables from the hills nearby in the afternoon. He taught them how to survive, and how to keep a low profile while out in the plains. If anyone can spot a daemon from five hundred yards away, it’s those two rascals.”

  “Hundurr did a good job of raising them, after the daemons killed their mother,” Isom added. “She died trying to defend them from rogue daemons.”

  “This world wasn’t always like this, was it?” Avril asked, and I was secretly thankful that she changed the subject. It was all too painful, especially as I watched Patrik gaze at Hundurr and his kids. It hurt him deeply on the inside. He clearly had some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder, and I had no idea how to help him, how to make it all better. I felt helpless, and, at the same time, I was falling deeper in love with him—Patrik was a survivor, and one of the most noble creatures I’d ever come across.

  “Neraka was once a glorious, bountiful land,” Colton replied with a melancholic sigh. “Or at least that’s what we’re told in legends passed down from our ancestors. Personally, I only know the turmoil that we have today, but, back in the old days, long before the Maras came here, this was a land that belonged to all creatures. There are stories that survive to this day of heroes and villains among us. Jada, the Manticore who defeated the first daemon king, or Lige, the only Adlet to unite all the packs against the Dhaxanians when they tried to freeze the entire north. The Imen were renowned as noble creatures who advocated peace and prosperity. They were known as the architects of this world, building cities in perfect harmony with nature—”

  “Until the daemons rose to power and started hunting them for their souls,” Isom added. “Then the Exiled Maras came along and joined the hunt, hungry for the Imen’s blood. Everybody wanted something from those poor Imen. They were all systematically dumbed down and reduced to savages, fearful villagers, and slaves, purely because they weren’t as strong or as vicious as the daemons. Neraka wasn’t always this cruel, you know. Our nations used to live in relative peace. I mean, sure, you had the occasional conqueror, but there was some kind of balance.”

  “That, of c
ourse, stopped when the daemons learned how to eat souls. They turned from aspiring overlords to the very plague that has decimated our people and stripped us of our lands,” Colton said, gritting his teeth.

  “You know, there are daemons who don’t follow that path anymore,” I said. “They’re called pacifists among their people, and, of course, they’re deeply frowned upon. But still, they refuse to eat souls. They keep to themselves, but they’ve been spreading, lately. They want to see Neraka restored to what it once was, before this bloodbath.”

  Colton straightened his back, then cocked his head to the side, looking genuinely surprised. The other Adlets were equally nonplussed, judging by their collectively raised eyebrows. “That’s new,” Colton muttered. “We’ve never heard of the movement before.”

  “Probably because they fear discovery too much, at this point,” I replied. “But they’re there, deep within the daemon cities, ready to help us.”

  “Do you really think they’d turn on their own kind just to assist you?” Isom said, pursing his lips.

  “They will do whatever it takes, as long as all the murders and soul-eating stop, for good.” I sighed. “I imagine they’re just as exhausted as you. Personally, I’m not surprised. They’re not all evil by nature. Most of them adhere to what they know, to what they’ve been taught. The freethinkers are persecuted and killed. The pacifists are freethinkers who, to this day, have evaded capture, waiting for people like you, people like us, to come together and rid Neraka of its daemons once and for all. So, yes, I believe their intentions are pure.”

  “They’re not the first or the last to be willing to rise against their leader,” Patrik added. “I’ve seen it before. The pattern is familiar, and it transcends space and time. Good and evil may be relative terms, but most creatures follow a moral path. To some, it’s no way to live if it doesn’t feel right. Personally, I completely understand that.”

  Colton nodded slowly, then lay on his side by the fire. “I’ll speak to the rest of my pack tonight. We’ll send word out to the others, too, and we’ll give you an alliance offer by morning. Before we agree to anything, we need to assess the risks and resources involved. We have our cubs to think of first. Surely you understand.”

  “Absolutely,” Patrik replied. “Take as long as you need. We’re grateful with whatever you can provide in terms of support. We hope our friends will find the swamp witch in Draconis, but if she’s not there, we may need help to find her—wherever she may be.”

  “Our trackers might come in handy for that,” Isom offered, looking at Colton, who nodded in response. “We’ll hold a council at midnight and discuss our options. In the meantime, you should all get some rest. Your shelters are ready.”

  A young Adlet girl came forward and pointed at three holes in the northern mound to her right. “We’ve prepared three. There are plenty of furs down there to keep you warm during the night,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, giving her a warm smile. She blushed, then settled by Isom’s side. Based on the facial similarities, she was definitely his daughter—an assumption reinforced by the kiss he gently dropped on her forehead.

  “It gets extremely cold after midnight,” Isom said. “If you need more covers, just let either of us know.”

  We all got up and walked over to the shelters. Some quick math made me realize that I’d have to share a hole with one of my team members. In any other circumstance, and based solely on my upbringing, I would’ve thought of Avril as my “bunkmate”, but Patrik took my hand and claimed the first shelter.

  “We’ll take this one,” he said, prompting Heron to put on one of his devilish smirks. Hundurr wasn’t too happy with the idea, letting out a low, guttural growl. He glared at Patrik, who was unfazed and narrowed his eyes at the pit wolf. “If you have a problem with that, I’m more than happy to talk to you about it, once you turn back to your original self. Until then, however, I’d really appreciate it if you could just stay out here and watch over us. Over Scarlett, in particular.”

  Hundurr shook his head, visibly displeased, but obeyed and sat down in the grass. I chuckled softly, then scratched him behind his ears. “Thank you,” I whispered. The look in his eyes made me melt on the inside. It also hurt me deeply because I knew I’d be leaving him here, with his family, once morning came. It would be cruel to take him away from the pack with whom he’d just been reunited.

  Patrik climbed first into the hole, and I followed, just as the others claimed their shelters in pairs—Dion with Alles, and Heron with Avril; the latter pairing made me giggle, mainly because I knew how close they were bound to get to each other.

  Speaking of close…

  As soon as my feet sank into the fur with which the Adlets had lined the floor in our hole, I stilled. Patrik stood right in front of me, his warm breath warming my face as he took off his backpack and weapons. He didn’t take his eyes off me while I did the same. My heart was jumping back and forth, struggling against my ribcage.

  “What did you mean when you told Hundurr about his ‘original self’?” I asked, trying to fill the intense silence with something that would distract me from my racing pulse. “Pit wolves can’t transform back into Adlets, not even after the collar is removed.”

  “That’s a known theory, yes, but not a fact, per se,” Patrik replied. “I’ve looked into his eyes, Scarlett. Hundurr is still in there, deep inside the pit wolf. And he’s very attached to you. I’m hoping it will help if I push his buttons a little, where you’re concerned. It might help him fight his condition. Who knows, he might even revert to Adlet form, if he’s strong enough. It’s worth a shot.”

  That made me laugh lightly. “So, because he gets jealous whenever you’re close to me, you’re hoping to get him riled up enough to turn back to his humanoid form?”

  Patrik’s gaze softened, and he inched closer, lowering his head. “Scarlett, there’s an Adlet inside that pit wolf, desperate to come out. As cruel as it may sound, it might be his feelings for you that will help him break free.”

  “How do you know he has actual feelings for me? For all we know, he’s simply fond of me because I broke the collar off him,” I replied, shrugging. It did make sense, and it was a little flattering, I had to admit, but I knew, deep down, that even if Hundurr were to turn back to his Adlet form, I wouldn’t be able to reciprocate. My heart belonged to the Druid whose lips gently pressed against my forehead.

  “I know that look in his eyes better than anyone, Scarlett,” he whispered. He then took me in his arms and kissed me, deeply. Patrik tasted like summer sunshine, and it was the closest I’d ever get to feeling that light on my skin—that warmth pouring through my veins. “It was love that helped me break my own chains, Scarlett. And it could be love that sets Hundurr free, too.”

  “It was your love for Kyana,” I replied, my voice unsteady. I didn’t want to go there, and open that wound, but it had to be addressed. “That’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. I’m just the vampire who released him from daemons, and I’m certainly not the one who pulled you out of your Destroyer form.”

  “You’re giving yourself very little credit, Scarlett,” Patrik said, caressing my face. “I’m still very much broken on the inside, and there are days when I can barely get myself up on my feet. Yet one thought of you is all it takes to get me moving again. You have no idea how important you are to me, and how much good you do to my very soul. I have all the faith in the world that you can have the same impact on Hundurr, if not more.”

  Tears came up to my eyes. I pressed my lips tight, struggling not to cry. “You’re the one who gives me too much credit,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “No, Scarlett,” he replied, cupping my face, “I’m not giving you enough. Don’t you see? I’m falling for you, more and more each day, at a stage in my life where I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. And my feelings for you just keep getting stronger, to the point where I find it difficult to breathe if you’re not around.”
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  He kissed me again, this time more hungrily. I parted my lips, once again welcoming the wonderful taste of him, before he pulled himself back.

  His breath was ragged, and his gaze was clouded as he looked at me. My lips tingled, and my heart thundered in my chest, watching him as he pulled some furs together into a pile resembling a makeshift bed. He took his boots off, then removed his vest and the rest of his gear. All that was left was a slightly disheveled Patrik, wearing a white shirt and dark blue pants, his curly hair framing his gorgeous face. I was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with him, and I could no longer deny it.

  He sat on the furs, looking up at me with a warm smile. His blue eyes glimmered in the darkness of our shelter, and I wondered if he could see me as well as I could see him. I slipped out of my boots, then removed my protective gear and belt—the leather suit was ridiculously comfortable, once all the metal plates were off, the material soft enough to make it the perfect onesie in the absence of proper pajamas.

  I sat on my knees in front of him. “You do know that I’m in love with you, right?” I asked, almost rhetorically, as I pulled the elastic band from my ponytail and let my hair loose.

  His breath hitched, his pupils dilated, and his lips parted as he ran his fingers through my hair, then gripped the back of my neck. “Can you say that again? I’m not sure I heard you the first time,” he replied, a smile blooming on his face.

  I was almost trembling, overrun by my own emotions. We’d been through enough together, and I’d been holding these feelings in for months now. If we died tomorrow, at least he knew exactly how I felt. “I’m in love with you, Patrik,” I breathed.

  His eyes softened, and then he pulled me into a kiss that drew the air from my lungs, one hand holding my head, while the other slipped between my shoulder blades and pressed me against his muscular chest. His broad frame made me feel small, but safe and cherished, and butterflies erupted into a frenzy inside my stomach.