Page 124 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

The first time one of my people died, I’d flinched back, feeling the Reaver driving his claws into the lad’s guts, even as his fellow rushed in to lop the beast’s head off. But he’d still stumbled back, blood seeping from his fingers, followed by the wet slither of his innards as he dropped to the ground. The next was two men, their throats torn out as one by a Reaver clawing wildly, right as a sword was thrust into his heart. Then another beast grabbed a young fellow about to lob a bottle of spirits, the grin on his face turning into a scream as he was jerked backwards, down into the pit of surging Reavers.

Callum didn’t feel the pain of his soldiers as they were burned, shot, stabbed or crushed. He felt nothing but that dark, bleak amusement that seemed to simmer inside him. Well, that and some slight personal discomfort. His fingers scratched at his jerkin, raking across the wound I'd left in his chest.

“He made a bargain for this, didn’t he?” I asked Pepin and as I did, I could see it. Him wavering as he made his way through the blood and mud of a battlefield, rapidly muttering a dark prayer to the death goddess. “That’s how he got all of this. How do I counter it? How do I do the same?”

“Don’t, Darcy…” Dane growled, staring at the two of us intently. “Making bargains with the gods rarely works out well for us. Rath! We need to start the retreat!”

Orders were shouted out around me, horns blasted and bells rung, but all I saw, heard was her.

“He’s right,” she replied. “You don’t want to do this.” And then she shifted, my mother standing before me in a light summer dress, her red-gold hair shining in the summer sun. “I know what’s coming.”

“And it will be hard and bad.” I bit my words off, my teeth jarring with each word. “And it will be bad and you’ll feel sorry for me. I remember. Fuck, how I remember. But don’t show me Pepin or you, Mother, show me her.”

Was it a surprise when the form of Mother Aeve stood before me? Not just her, all of the priestess of the Morrigan stood there, wearing their black feather cloaks.

“I have what you want, young wolf queen,” she said, but it wasn’t Aeve’s endlessly patient voice, it was hers. The sibilant hiss of a voice that had slithered around in my head. She twisted her hands, doing just as Aeve had before, conjuring a ball of bruise-purple light, something that seemed to roil and shift like storm clouds. “And the first taste is for free.”

She tossed the ball out, and it seemed to explode outwards, becoming a heavy dark fog. A noxious one, it appeared. Men jerked back instinctively from it, scrambling with the effort of it. But when they didn’t move fast enough? They dropped like stones, open eyed and staring onto the battlements, just like the Reavers beyond. I strode forward, watching the dark cloud spread and spread, killing every Reaver it touched. But the cloud didn’t last for long. It dissipated on the breeze, forcing the Reavers to cough and splutter as a result. But once they recovered? They threw themselves back at the wall with renewed vigour.

“What have you to offer me, wolf queen?”

“Darcy, you can’t,” Gael said, pushing himself between us. “Whatever that was—”

“This one?” Her claw like hand reached out, but I thrust Gael behind me, knowing somehow that he would not survive her touch. “Pity. A true born son and a mate is a potent sacrifice. Queens kept multiple mates for a reason, dearie.”

I blinked, then shook my head, trying to rid myself of that mental image.

“Then what about the pretty one, golden as the sun?”

She drifted towards Weyland, who raised his sword with a growl, but I moved in front of him too.

“Or the burly one. You don’t need him.”

“None of my mates,” I snapped. “None of them.”

“Then what about the Maidens?”

She moved to Selene with a carnivorous smile on her face, but the Maiden held firm, not even raising her sword.

“If that’s what it takes to stop this onslaught, I’ll go.”

“No, Selene!” Orsha cried, shouldering her way forward. She wrapped her hands around the other woman’s arm. “Selene, you can’t.” The Maiden broke then, tears filling her eyes as she looked up at her alpha. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“Not just you, dearie,” the Morrigan clarified. “The Wolf Maidens are a drain on my power, a part of me that my little Pepin likes to let run free. Your strength, your prowess comes from me, you know.”

“Then take mine, dread queen,” Selene replied, her arms trembling as she held her hands out. “From you it comes and to you it returns.”

“It will anyway, and very soon, if we don’t act swiftly,” the Morrigan said, casting an eye over the battlements. “No, I need more than your death. The death of the Maidens entirely.”

“No…” The words slipped past my lips and many others.

“All of your powers stripped, your beasts taken. And none will come after you to bear the name Maiden.”

“You want a sacrifice?” I said.

Aeve’s eyes glittered then with a light I’d never seen burning in them before. Her normally calm face had become an avaricious mask, her fangs glittering in the dying sun as she stepped closer.

“Take from me.”

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