Kaelen's POV.
The iron cage swayed from the back of a Blue Moon supply wagon. I was stripped to the waist, my skin filled with charcoal-colored bruises and the raw, weeping gashes from Vane's lash.
Admiral Vane climbed onto the back of the wagon, a silver-handled dagger in his hand.
"You're surprisingly durable for an Omega," Vane said, grabbing my hair to pull my head back. "But the King is tired of waiting. We reach the border bridge in three hours. He's offered you a choice, Linus. One last mercy."
"I told you," I rasped, spitting a mouthful of blood onto his polished boots. "You can kiss my ass."
Vane slammed the pommel of his dagger into my temple. My vision blurred. "Here is the deal: sign the confession. Admit that you bewitched the Emperor, that you sabotaged the Iron Fang from within to hand it to the Blue Moon, and that you wish to return to your father's 'loving' embrace."
"What do I get from this?"
"Then we execute the Emperor and let you live out your days in a monastery. If you refuse, we flay you alive in front of your retreating army, and then we burn every village between here and the capital."
"You really are a clown," I said, a jagged smile touching my lips. "Request, denied."
Vane sighed, the sound of a bored predator. He took the dagger and pressed the tip into the mark Fenrir had left on me. He began to carve, slowly, peeling back the skin where the Emperor's teeth had once been.
"You think your wolf is coming for you?" Vane whispered over my screams. "He's a hundred miles North, drowning in Hecate's rebels. He's abandoned you, boy. He chose his crown over his toy."
"He didn't abandon me," I hissed through gritted teeth. "He's doing his job. And I'm doing mine."
"And what job is that? Dying in a cage?"
"No," I said, my voice dropping to a low, gutteral vibration that made Vane hesitate. "Winning."
Vane laughed and stepped out of the cage, locking the iron bar behind him. "Enjoy the rain. It's the last thing you'll feel besides the knife."
He left two guards at the wagon. Betas, young and arrogant, leaning on their spears.
I closed my eyes. I could feel Fenrir's agony, his desperation. I didn't send him a plea for help, I sent him a command.
Stay North, Fenrir. Finish her.
Then, I focused on my own body. The pain was just a signal. I suppressed it, shuting it into a corner of my mind. I reached for the iron shackles on my wrists. They were heavy, but the locks were old.
I didn't have a key, so I dislocated my left thumb with a sickening pop, the pain barely registering. I slid my hand through the ring of the shackle, skin tearing, blood acting as a lubricant.
My hand was free.
"Hey!" one of the guards shouted, noticing the movement. "What are you—"
He didn't finish the sentence. I reached through the bars, my fingers locking around his throat. I crushed his windpipe and he collapsed, I snatched the spear from his falling hand.
"Assassins!" the second guard yelled, reaching for his horn.
I didn't give him the chance. I lunged against the bars, the spear-tip swinging through the iron gaps. It caught him in the eye, burying itself four inches deep. He dropped without a sound.
I grabbed the keys from the first guard's belt. My hands were shaking, slick with my own gore and theirs, but the lock turned.
The cage door swung open.
I stepped out into the mud. I was partly alive, my vision tunneling.
Admiral Vane heard the commotion. He turned, his eyes widening as he saw me standing over his dead guards, my bare chest covered in blood.
"You... how?" Vane stuttered, drawing his sword.
"I warned you, Admiral," I said. "I've died before. This time, it's your turn."
Vane lunged. I didn't have a sword, but I had my bare hands and the jagged piece of the broken spear. I dodged his first strike, the blade moving past my ear. I stepped into his space, driving the wooden shard into his collarbone. He screamed in pain, but I didn't stop.
I grabbed his sword arm, twisting it until the bone snapped. He dropped the blade. I hammered my fist into his face, again and again, feeling his nose and his teeth break against my knuckles.
I didn't kill him quickly. I pinned him to the mud, my hands around his throat.
"You wanted to flay me?" I whispered. "You wanted to see me break?"
I squeezed. I watched the light fade from his eyes as I drained the life out of the man who had tortured me.
I stood up, the rest of the camp was in chaos, realizing their commander was down. I picked up Vane's silver sword.
"Who's next?" I shouted into the rain.
The Blue Moon soldiers hesitated.
Suddenly, the rain seemed to stop.
The soldiers backed away, their eyes fixed on the dead body.
A figure stepped out of the white haze.
She wore a dress of tattered black silk. Her hair was white, her skin like porcelain, and her eyes were absolutely dark.
Queen Mother Hecate.
"You really are a remarkable piece of work, Kaelen," she said, her voice echoing. "My son has such expensive taste in monsters."
She was the first to call me Kaelen, meaning she knew.
"Hecate," I spat, gripping the sword.
"The Blue Moon were never going to kill you," she said, walking towards me. "They were just the distraction. I needed you away from Fenrir. I needed you broken so the bond wouldn't scream when I finally cut his throat."
"He's North," I said. "You failed."
Hecate let out a soft, chilling laugh. "Oh, my sweet boy. He's not North. He felt you break, your pain. He's been riding for hours, leaving his army behind, coming straight into the trap I set on the bridge."
My heart stopped. I had tried to tell him to stay, but the pain had been too loud he had come for me.
"He's alone?" I asked.
"He and his inner circle," Hecate said. "They should be reaching the gorge in ten minutes. And you're going to watch from this hill as I take back my throne with his blood."
"I won't let you," I said, stepping forward.
Hecate raised a hand, and the mist around me began to solidify into the shapes of Shadow Wolves, larger and darker than any I had seen before.
"You're not going anywhere, King," she said.