Farley waited for Weston to raise his head, giving him time to note every important detail. “Ifyourchampion wins the fight, you may decide to keep or return the sacred item. You can demand recompense for the breach of etiquette in an invitation for a delegation drawing an army to your land.” Again, he paused long enough for Weston to follow. “The life taken by a member of Alpha Thatcher’s pack is another matter. Regardless of the result of the challenge, Nelson’s death was an act of war and his killer’s life will be forfeit as a result,” he decreed, his tone razor sharp and furious.
Grateful he wouldn’t need to ask, Keon tipped his bottle to Farley. “Thank you. Anything to avoid war,” he agreed, appreciating having news for Nelson’s mother. No one could resurrect Nelson, but hewouldbe avenged.
“Once you settle this ridiculous challenge,” Farley remarked, more confident than Keon, “we’ll talk further.”
“Sure.” Keon tried to keep a straight face and said nothing about Farley’s presumption he’d win the fight. He wasn’t trained, but had learned enough from the guys at the fraternity to give a sheltered Vihaan a run for his money.
A fight to submission was a good challenge. The first challenger unable to stand and continue the fight was deemed the ‘loser’. Sagging, breathless, and beaten to hell, but if the other couldn’t stand, he was still a winner.
Farley took another sip and made a face at the chilled bottle. “The fight will take place at midnight, as tradition. In the meantime, talk me through these laws you posted,” he suggested, a familiar smirk returning. “I told my guards to remove your signposts, for the fight, but they’re abuzz with interest,” he revealed, adding a spark of warmth to the scotch lingering in Keon’s stomach.
Pleased Farley’s guards approved, despite having greater freedoms, Keon picked at the label of his bottle. “I’d love to. Maybe you could let the rumour spread?” While Farley had an ulterior motive to his lengthy visit, Keon and Weston had prepared the paperwork to get his signature of approval. The Meskli wasn’t the only one with plans.
“You planning to convert the whole of E’Boolou?”
Accepting the pile of papers from Weston, Keon pushed them across the coffee table and met Farley’s gaze. The Alpha tilted the top page, cocked his head, and met Keon’s gaze. “I’m planning on converting the world. When I’m done, no village or pack in Vihaan will escape my laws.”
Chapter Twelve
Keon
THE MESKLI HADthe freedom of every house in Vihaan, but Farley never needed to utilise the law with Keon’s family as he was always welcome. Keon felt no different. He welcomed the Alpha to his home to enjoy an evening of conversation with Farley and Weston. At one point, he thought Weston would faint when Farley offered to help prepare dinner.
The following hours, as three grown men—one Beta and two Alphas of the largest pack inE’Boolou—stood in the kitchen of his parents’ home, making beef burgers, peeling potatoes, and cutting vegetables, became the nicest he’d had in years. The familiarity, the comfort of spending time with old friends, compounded into a pleasant evening. Keon swore off the scotch and beer, opting for water to keep his mind clear. Happy to walk through the new laws, Farley encouraged Weston’s opinions and observations of the pack’s reactions.
Eventually, the sun fell.
By half past eleven, Keon sat on the porch, pulling on ceremonial boots. Paces away, Eliseo shrugged a backpack onto his shoulders and checked his team were ready for their journey. Weston had gone to the podium with Farley to keep the Meskli from discovering their devious plans. As much as Keon respected the man and loved him like family, the Meskli couldn’t be party to this. Regardless of the outcome of his challenge, he wanted Eliseo and his team to be safely in Dnara, searching for the lost, banished, and exiled members of their pack.
Janet had offered to return in a week to check the situation and discover the outcome of the challenge. If Keon lost and a new Alpha claimed his pack, Weston would leave a pile of stones by the doorway. Something natural no one would suspect of being a message. If Keon succeeded, he’d meet Janet and give her the good news in person. In the event of sustaining a serious injury during his victory, Weston would be in his place.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t leave earlier,” Eliseo apologised, tightening the straps of the backpack around his waist.
“It couldn’t be helped.”
Vega had slipped from his guard and hidden by the doorway, hoping to intercept Farley and ruin the plan. Caught by Eliseo while conducting a final safety check with Janet and Jude, he’d been confined in his home, no one able to get Keon alone without arousing the Meskli’s suspicions. Farley needed plausible deniability when it came to their trip and, as the Meskli, had the power to stop them.
Keon would rather beg his forgiveness than miss a golden opportunity.
Stomping into his last boot, Keon stood and dusted his trousers. “Farley will be presiding over the challenge, giving you a clear track to the doorway,” he promised, planning to drag the fight out for the hour they needed. Extending his hand, he shook with every team member. “Good luck. No matter the outcome, you’re on a worthy mission and I want everyone to return safely.” He smiled when Eliseo slipped past his hand to hug him. Keon returned the embrace and grasped his leather-clad wrist to acknowledge their new bond as brothers-by-mating.
Eliseo’s eyes said he cherished the bond. “We’ll do you proud, Alpha.”
“You already have,” he swore, trusting this was the first step to bring the pack into a new age. “By bravely accepting this mission, you’ve proven we’re a family. I want you to work as a team. Don’t leave anyone behind unless it’s the only option. If you get left behind, or injured, go to Drew. He’ll take care of you. Don’t risk going through the doorway injured. I have it on good authority it can put your m’weko at risk.” Keon eyed them intently, stressing the danger. Doctor Robell had told them countless times the doorway could be cruel and fickle, a sentient structure no one had dared study.
“Yes, Alpha,” the team chorused.
Keon was prouder than he could put into words. “When I fight tonight, it’s for our family. The ones here, and the ones in Dnara,” he vowed, remembering why this was important.
“We’ll return as fast as possible,” Eliseo said, patting the pocket with the list of names Weston had supplied. “Good luck, Alpha.” He hitched his bag higher and took a step away. “I know you’ll be victorious, but there’s no harm hoping the Fates will be on your side.”
“May the Fates guide you and bring you home swiftly.” Keon waved a final goodbye, grateful for the support and well wishes.
With one last look, Eliseo led his team to the path through the trees, past his favourite clearing, and toward the boundaries. The doorway stood in the mouth of a cave, innocent, barely a shimmer of light. Coming from Dnara was far less disorientating, as it meant stepping from the darkness into light.
Keon hoped it guided them to safety. Swallowing his apprehension, he stepped into the house and shut the door, sparing a second to lean against it and take a steadying breath. Pushing from the door, Keon made his way through the house. He played his part, accepting the line of guards outside the front door, who would escort him to the village square. Farley had chosen the podium for the challenge to allow the packs to gather and view every move.
On display, Thatcher couldn’t claim they’d cheated. Though Keon was sure he’d try, if his challenger lost.
