Page 81 of Pack Captive

"The old stories say entire packs rose from the grave, generation upon generation of wolves, to defend the Caller who summoned them." Yasemin pursed her lips. "There is a precedent, a link between the moon and death in our rituals."

Now they were both staring at me like I was the answer to their prayers.

"Maybe I hallucinated them," I mumbled, but Kadin scoffed.

"No, you didn't. If you can really call up the ancestors, then we could have an army a hundred times bigger than Fenris's!" She was sitting straight up now, her grief and tears replaced by vindication. "Let's try it at the full moon. If you can call your pack's spirits back to us, then that proves the stories are true."

I thought of the jolt in my chest and stomach when I'd seen the ghost wolves—the ancestors—and wondered what it would feel like to do it deliberately.

Or maybe they were just desperate and grasping at straws. I'd never heard any stories of Callers summoning the dead.

I didn't want them to develop ideas that I couldn't live up to.

"I'll think about it. I'm going to head to the cold pool," I muttered, getting up and sending the steam swirling around us.

Kadin tried to follow, but I saw Yasemin shake her head from the corner of my eye, grabbing the younger girl's hand before she could get up.

I just needed a moment alone to think about the concept of raising the dead, let alone the fact that Kadin seemed to be gearing up to believe that all of Lykos's hopes rested on my ability to do so.

The pool room was beyond the steam room. The pool itself was set into the floor, the bottom covered in ice-blue tiles that made it look as cold as a glacier.

I hung my towel on a hook on the wall and plunged in.

The iciness froze my lungs, and I had a moment of ridiculous splashing trying to get back to the surface, where I gasped for air and clung to the edge.

It took several minutes to unfreeze myself enough to swim a few laps, and by the time I was almost feeling warm again, I'd managed to come to an agreement with myself: I would attempt to call my pack's spirits on the full moon.

If I failed, then we'd drop this whole concept of an army of the dead.

If I succeeded...then I guess I'd owe Kadin a little more faith in her next crazy plan.

I scoffed at myself as I climbed out of the pool and blindly reached for my towel, swiping my wet hair out of my eyes.

I barely knew the first thing about being a Caller, and now I thought I really had a chance at raising the dead like it was nothing?

My hand hit the hook on the wall, but my towel wasn't there. I opened my eyes, water dripping from my eyelashes.

All I saw was a flash of furious eyes and auburn hair as the female Claw grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the wall.

25

Ayla

Sorana slammedher forearm against my throat, holding me tight against the freezing stone.

Her amber eyes were bright with fury, auburn hair clinging in damp tendrils around her face. Her lips drew back in a sneer as she looked me over.

"It's the dirty little traitor," she growled, and when I heard small, cruel laughs, I realized we weren't alone.

Two other females, Warrior-caste wolves, were on either side of her, and both of them were looking at me with hatred.

I felt completely vulnerable, naked and no match for the claw-tattooed woman holding me fast.

"I didn't betray any of you," I tried to say, but Sorana dug her arm in harder, making me choke for breath.

She leaned in close, hissing under her breath so no one would overhear. Her arm was pushed against me so hard I couldn't howl. Just breathing was hard enough.

"You broke the seals on the Bloodfang's prison, and then you let him out." Her breath was unpleasantly hot against my ear. "Who else would do that but a traitor? You gave him everything he needed to escape after Ryden spent so much effort keeping him locked up."

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