Page 101 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

“The fact it will be a loss to you tells me this is the right sacrifice to make,” I said then smiled wryly. “Won’t you love me with short hair?”

“Always, but–”

“Peace, brother,” Gael said, clapping Weyland on the shoulder. “It was always what was inside Darcy that drew us to her, not what is without.”

“But I love her hair. I’d intended to wrap it around my hand while we–”

“There are rituals and formal words,” Nordred interrupted sharply, casting a dark look my mate’s way. “But this is the prayer I’ve used the most often.”

He produced a knife from his belt, his eyes staring solemnly into mine, before he handed it over.

“Morrigan, dread queen…”

I spoke the words after him, right as I set the blade to my nape, but a pair of hands took over.

“If you’re going to do this, let me,” Gael insisted. “Then at least it’ll be cut straight.

“Gift me strength of arm, so I might reap the souls of the unworthy in your honour,” Nordred continued, and I echoed him.

“May my sword cut through my enemies like this knife does the wheat.”

Nordred retrieved the blade and sliced through several wheat stalks, casting the heads to the winds, before returning it to me. But I had a different offering. Ravens cawed overhead, their black wings buffeted by the gathering storm as I let the heavy weight of my shorn hair go. Each strand fell away, red as the blood that we would shed on the morrow, copper bright in the setting sun.

“Make me your vessel, death dealer, slayer. Let me litter the battlefield with corpses as offering to your divine beak.”

Nordred stopped then, turning to me, and for a moment we just stood there.

“And what is your offering to the old crone?” Weyland asked Nordred. “I feel like we’ve offered ours in the sacrifice of Darcy’s hair.” His hand went to my crop, now only just brushing the curve of my jaw.

“My sacrifice comes tomorrow.” His eyes slid skyward. “And she knows that.”

I’d woken just before dawn, shaking the others as soon as I rolled out of my bedding.

“He’ll be here within the hour,” I had said, catching glimpses of the Reaver force moving, without knowing how I knew it, just knowing that they were on their way. My head felt hazy, overly full. “We need to alert the generals.”

So here we were, standing in what felt like the exact same spot we’d stood in yesterday. Every soldier was in their armour and armed to the teeth. Each one of us, waiting. We were a line of soldiers, four deep where we stood, in the centre of the only defence between here and Snowmere. My mates were arrayed around me, Nordred on one side, and the place where the king would take his place on the other. At our flanks men stood eight deep and behind us were our archers

“Darcy, you need—” Weyland began to say as I watched the men begin to shift restlessly.

“Stop, brother.” We turned to see Axe standing beside us, weapon in hand. “Darcy fights with us.” He turned to me. “Our job is to work with her, not against her.” He nodded. “Just stick with me, lass. I’ll keep you safe.”

Safe, that was an uncomfortable word out here. We were, at the moment, but that was about to be ripped away and there were no certainties once the Reavers came, no matter what Axe might say. But before I could get lost in my worries about that, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

“Fairly sure that’s our job, Your Highness.”

“Selene?”

I grinned when I saw the lot of them. It looked like several hundred of the Wolf Maidens had joined us. The men parted to let the women through and when she got close, I threw my arms around her, gripping her tight, even if she was slow to respond. But hug me back, she did.

“We fight as a pack,” she assured me.

“But you were directed to stay back at the palace to protect the queen.” I jerked back. “And the children!”

“Yes, I gave the order myself.” We both turned to see the king had arrived, looking down his nose with thinly veiled irritation from where he sat on his horse.

“Darcy bested me in a fight,” Selene replied, utterly unrepentant. “That makes her our alpha. We fight as a pack!”

Her reply had become a shout, a war cry, and the Maidens all slapped their swords against their shields in response. Down the line, soldiers did the same, not sure why, but willing to go along with anything that might stir their blood up. The king opened his mouth, ready to argue, when a thin wolf howl cut through the air. It appeared to be some distance away, but still. He shook his head and then forced his horse through the line to address his men.

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