“FUCK the king!” I bellow through the pack unity.
Their minds snap collectively, tracking my fury through the chaos. Anassa snarls and sprints around the edge of the arena, outpacing the wolves trying to pursue us. Jonah is chasing me; I suppose the king’s orders sounded like approval to do whatever the fuck he wants.
I circle wide, sword in hand, consciousness reaching for my pack’s pain and power. I can sense that the king’s hold on them snapped the moment I gave them my rage.
“Follow,” I tell them. “Together.” And I sense their understanding.Thisis how it should be. All of us as one, unified. Bonded.
My plan to get to the king might have been upended… but I’m going to use my packmates’ protection to get to him all the same.
That fucker dies today.
The melee explodes. A massive Daemos wolf lunges straight for Nevah’s throat. Multiple minds analyze the trajectory.
I send rapid commands over unity. “Izabel, cut left. Tomison, drive them toward the west wall.”
My packmates’ wolves move without hesitation, their massive bodies whipping forth to follow my orders. Anassa and I descend into the fray strategically, my mind glowing from the rush of information.
Izabel’s wolf leaps high over the heads of two Kryptos wolves, landing closer to Nevah, who still struggles desperately against the massive black Daemos wolf. Then Tomison’s direwolf charges from the opposite direction, carving a pass with his massive bulk. The Daemos wolf pulls back, suddenly trapped between the Strategos pairs.
Shit, it looks too coordinated. The king might notice a pattern in my pack’s movements. We can’t appear unified, or he’ll notice—and then who knows what will happen?
“Make it look coincidental next time,” I instruct everyone. “Don’t let him see that we’re working together.”
I rely heavily on Anassa as the battle rages on. She fights well as I organize the defense of my pack. She helps guide my hand, using her massive size to carve a path through the field so that smaller Strategos wolves can use it to reposition without opposition.
Driven by the king’s command, two Kryptos wolves use their startling speed and maneuverability to cut through the melee, ducking under massive Phylax wolves and darting around Daemos fangs.
I don’t see them myself. I feel their approach in a cascading shiver of minds and know that they aren’t angling for me but Tomison and Pietr, who are flanking me, their wolves pretending to snap at Anassa’s heels.
We were heading to the northern side to help Izabel. It doesn’t matter. I have to shake the Kryptos pair now. Izabel can hold out if Tomison goes her way. I issue a flurry of orders.
“Tomison—”
His awareness burns fiery through my mind. He’s already sprinting towards her. I grin wickedly and turn my attention elsewhere.
“Pietr, drop back. Allegra, guard his retreat. Roddert, circle wide and take them—they’ll expect you to go tight.”
My pack fights well, viciously but tightly controlled. We defend our own with a fury, but we spare the other packs as best we can. The king might be okay with more bloodshed today, but we refuse.
I reach Izabel and Tomison just in time. Anassa rears up to block a smaller wolf’s lunge, giving Tomison’s wolf enough time to drag a blood-crazed Daemos attacker off of his rider.
Danger prickles over the back of my neck, sent by Izabel. My blade moves before my mind does. I swing, the metal clanging against a blow that was meant for Izabel. Even still, my mind races through three other orders—two pairs across the arena on the southern side, another north east.
I’m making progress. My pack has mostly been repositioned towards the arena’s stands, inching closer with every maneuver. I weave protective patterns as the fight rages on, fending off attacks, protecting the other packs’ lives…
Drawing closer to my goal.
A Phylax wolf manages to sink teeth into Allegra. Pain echoes through the bond, bitter with fear. The taste of blood fills my mouth. I bit the inside of my cheek, an instinctive reaction to one of mine being harmed.
I swallow and use the pain, pushing my focus even farther.
“Hold formation. Darius, take point. Roddert, flank left. They’re too focused on Allegra. Use that.”
Orders executed, Allegra and her direwolf retreat behind the cover we’ve created, limping badly but alive. Roddert’s wolf is covered in blood, but it’s not hers. I discount it and let my mind jump forward.
We’ve formed a protective arc around the king’s platform—almost as though we’redefendinghim. To an onlooker, it may look as though we’ve been backed against a wall. We even snap at each other, as though the king’s command still grips us. It’s impossible to fully hide that we aren’t turning on each other as the other packs are, but it hardly matters at this point.
We look vulnerable, as though we’re fleeing from the fight. Not at all a threat, which is what I need him to believe.
