Page 4 of The Warrior's Captive

She had an older sister who had yet to take a mate. Her oldest brother was banished for an unspeakable crime that she’d had to piece together from the barest sort of information, carefully guarded by Kieran and her father. They thought not knowing the horror was better for her. None of her eight younger siblings had taken a mate either. So far, only her brother, the alpha, had a mate and children. Even with the freedom to choose a mate from the neighboring lands, it seemed that the Nightfalls were doomed to follow an archaic law that wasn’t actually law anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Harlan wasn’t normally a very intuitive child when it came to emotions, but then again, what ten-year-old boy was? Give the kid something wired with endless mechanisms and electronics to fix, and he was a genius. Give him tools or wood, anything he could build or take apart and he worked small wonders, just like this dad. Feelings? Emotions? That wasn’t his strong suit.

“You look sad,” Laurel agreed. She took Briar May’s hand and stared up at her with massive brown eyes.

Harlan edged around them, uncertain about how to communicate his worry. He looked lost until he picked up a particularly lovely leaf, shaped like a star, and held it out to her.

“I’m not sad.” Briar May swallowed past the lump of undeclared sorrow that made it feel like she was suffocating. How could she explain to a pair of ten-year-olds what it was like to feel like your life was just passing you by? She couldn’t tell them of the panic she was sometimes gripped with. The pointlessness of her own existence. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Well, you look sad.” Laurel’s fingers threaded through hers, so much smaller.

“Here.” Harlan passed her the leaf. “Look at the veins. It’s so cool.”

She took it and she did look, holding it out for Laurel to see as well. He was right. The veins were obvious, tiny little intricate patterns that spread over the surface. It looked flawless. She wondered why it had fallen when it was so perfectly formed.

Overhead suddenly, a raven called. They all looked up, her heart stopping in her chest. Some believed that ravens were bad omens, she thought they were beautiful. They were brilliant birds, so interesting and majestic. Despite her wonder at the raven, she shivered involuntarily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that out there, someone was watching her. The woods felt strange. Different. Less comforting than usual. There was no reason to feel that way. She was perfectly safe in the heart of their lands. She would never have taken the twins anywhere that wasn’t guarded and protected.

“Do you think Mom can make a scent that smells like birds in flight?”

It was a strange question. She forgot all about the creepy feeling of not being alone, the same sensation she’d had for days now, and smiled at her niece. “What does a bird in flight smell like exactly?”

“Hmm. Cold air? Freedom? Something crisp and fresh. Snow and trees.”

“Snow doesn’t smell,” Harlan said, and poked his sister with a stick he’d found, then ran off.

She squealed, tearing away from Briar May to go racing after him playfully.

The raven took flight at the loud noise, and she found herself relaxing. The past weeks, she’d just felt unsettled. Over the last few months, there had been a lot of change in their pack. It was probably just that. That and the passing spring revolving into summer. She’d felt lost before. Useless. Even slightly hopeless. Watching her brother fall in love all over again had sparked something inside her that ached with a fresh loneliness. Zora glowed with the light of her brother’s affections, taking up the new challenge of resuming her mother’s healing work, but also finding a new love in making perfumes. She was useful. Her hands were never still. It was inspiring, but it also was a reminder of just how empty Briar May’s life truly was.

Yes, she helped. Yes, she had hobbies. But would the world miss her if she was gone?

She scrunched up her nose and refused to think about that.

The raven often symbolized change. As a good omen, it brought about rebirth. Something new dredged from the ashes of the old. It wasn’t going to happen to her, but she could figure out a way to make it a reality.

She couldn’t very well be waiting for something, that strange and unformed nebulous notion of a future, thinking it would never happen and all she’d ever have was a past, when she had such a beautiful present, in this very moment.

The twins dodged through the trees, weaving their way, bright and unafraid. Briar May’s heart lightened. She needed to stay in this moment. To focus on the joyous laughter, the warm air, the sharp scent of nature all around them. That was all that mattered. She’d hold it close until the pit of sadness, that terrible darkness inside her, ceased to be.

“Laurel! Harlan! Not so far!” Briar May hurried to keep up, the hem of her dress swirling around her knees, floating like a bluebell in a strong breeze.

The twins were ahead, laughing and shrieking as they ran through the trees, but Briar May sensed the disturbance at her back. She whirled, her wolf crying out in warning even before her eyes could take in the scene. She’d never known danger so great in her life. She was always shielded and carefully sheltered, but she didn’t freeze. She screamed over her shoulder, loudly for the twins.

“Run! Run to your parents. Now!”

Time seemed to freeze. She watched the twins turn and take in her warning. They saw the threat behind her, they were far enough ahead that they had time. They didn’t hesitate. They listened and obeyed, shifting instantly in a bright explosion of clothing and fur, and then streaked though the woods in the opposite direction, heading away from her and the danger at her back.

All her life, she’d done nothing.

All her life led her straight to this moment.

The three men charged through the woods, men so fearsome they looked like reapers coming to collect on a debt owed to the devil, a bargain she wasn’t aware she’d made. They came on, so oddly soundless that it seemed like they belonged to a mist that wasn’t there.

The leader was terrifying. He looked like a Viking from centuries past, with his head shaved at the sides, his flaxen hair long on top and braided back against his skull. An axe in each raised hand, he led the charge. He wore all black, like the smudges on his face around a flowing blond beard. The two men accompanying him were similar in appearance, though darker in hair. Their clothes might be modern fatigues, but the resemblance to the warriors of old was uncanny.

Run. They’re here for you. They’re going to kill you. Is this how you want to die? Without so much as a fight? Is that how you want to be remembered? You’re a Nightfall. Fight like one.

She couldn’t know that the devils were there for her, but something in her mind argued they were. She had the twins at her back, and she had to keep these men between herself and the kids. The twins were ten years old. Innocent. They had to survive. She’d ensure they had enough time to reach safety. They’d get help, but it only mattered that they were protected.

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