My blade sang.
For a heartbeat, the wolf-man stood frozen. Then his head slid free, hitting the forest floor with a wet thud.
Barely winded, I surveyed the clearing. Zane perched on a stump, cleaning blood from his knives, and six bodies lay at Ko’s feet.
Alpha Jace emerged from the pines, shirt askew, but unharmed.
“We took out five. No sign of any others. The pups are dragging off the bodies and will get these next.”
“Nowdo we get merit badges for playing nice with puppies?” Zane smirked.
“Next full moon run, you’re welcome to find out.” The alpha’s chuckle held real warmth this time. “I’ll have your bike dropped off sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“We appreciate it,” I told him as I cleaned my sword. “And the backup.”
“Anytime. Reach out if you need us again,” he replied, holding out a hand that I shook before he faded into the treeline as if he were never there.
The stink of iron clung to my tongue as I crouched to retrieve Claudio’s severed head. Zane walked over with the weathered pine box we’d brought along for this purpose, his boot nudging a stray wolf tooth across the dirt.
Ko, though, was a storm barely contained.
He stood a few feet away, silent as shadow. His favorite blade gleamed in the moonlight, the one withSeraphinaetched along the handle. He pressed his lips to her name, eyes shuttering and lashes sweeping down, in a gesture so tender, it made my chest ache. For three heartbeats, he stayed like that, a dark saint communing with his relic.
Then he knelt beside Claudio’s severed head. He moved with his usual purpose and grace, but there was something raw here, something unspoken. His emotions spilled out in moments like this, when the world had gone quiet after a battle. He felt things deeper than most people could bear, and this? This waspersonal.
“Planning to put the ‘fun’ in funeral, Mount Saint Koa?” Z smirked, craning his head to get a better look. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it. Curiosity, maybe, or envy.
Ko didn’t answer. His jaw tightened as he leaned over Claudio’s face, the tip of the dagger hovering just above the forehead. For a moment, he seemed frozen, his eyes burning with an intensity that could have set the world on fire. Then his blade bit into Claudio’s forehead.
He carved in sharp, precise angles, his free hand splayed over the dead wolf’s scalp like a priest delivering last rites. He’d carve the devil’s own heart if it quieted the storm in his chest; anything to bleedout the fury that had been choking him since we found Seri broken on our doorstep.
Let him have this. If this gives him peace, let him have it,I thought. And let everyone see the price of touching what’s ours.
I arranged pine straw in the box while we waited. Didn’t need this mutt’s blood staining the car mats.
Finally, Ko sat back, throat working as he stared at his bloody script. At his nod, I lifted the head by its hair and dropped it into the box, where it landed with a dampthunk.
“Presentation matters.” Zane snapped a purple sprig from a nearby redbud tree, tucking it behind Claudio’s ear. “Garnish says,“We cared enough to mock you.”
Rolling my eyes, I slammed the lid shut, cutting off Zane’s grin. The iron latch clicked like a revolver’s hammer.
“No need for a letter,” I murmured. “The head says it all.”
Z hoisted the box under one arm, humming “Another Bites the Dust.”
Ko rose fluidly, cleaning his blade on Claudio’s sleeve as his gaze snapped to the trees. Hunting for more threats, more carnage, more ways to prove he could shield her.
“She’s safe.” I gripped his shoulder.
“Not yet.” His eyes met mine, fever-bright.
“Relax, doomcloud. By the time this rotted melon hits Arabesque’s mailbox, every scheming bastard between here and Transylvania will know,” Zane mimed slitting his throat, complete with asquelch, “mess with the Cimmerians, you get the fangs.”
Ko’s nostrils flared, but the wildness in his stare dimmed as he came down from the battle rage and the bloodlust faded. After a moment, he nodded once, sharp as his blade’s edge.
I took point heading back to the SUV, Z following with the box. Ko walked backward, guarding our six, dagger still drawn.
“Hey, Cas.” Zane tossed the box into the trunk, then leaned against the bumper, smirk cutting through dried gore on his cheek. “Bet you twenty bucks Seri has given Lucian a nickname by now.”
