Page 187 of A Warrior's Fate

Frankly, Isla wasn’t positive where to start—the bak, the rogues, the pass, the warded door, the killer, the new marker, the final jewel, and scribbled symbol on her arm she had hidden in her jacket pockets. Or maybe that word that was cycling endlessly through her mind.

Traitor…

Traitor…

Traitor…

Who? What? She wanted to scream.

As they walked through the lower square to get the trolley up to the Pack Hall, Rhydian and Ameera were silent too. They had been since they’d left the house, combed the surrounding area for the missing rogue—only to come up empty—before getting back to the car.

They were understandably shaken by what they’d seen and all that had been divulged in just a few hours. From the fact that their best friend and brother had nearly been taken from them months ago and was still in potential danger to the fact that Imperial Alpha Cassius may know about Deimos’s secret dealings. To the witnessing of a bak not beyond the Wall, but in their home. Isla received the occasional question from one or both of them, and she’d offer her own back, but mostly, they were silent.

It was all too much. They were tired and frustrated. At least Charley had begrudgingly let them clean up a little once they’d returned his car. Isla had been the messiest with dried, dark blood peeking from beneath her clothes. He’d given her a tavern maiden’s uniform to throw on, and she’d accepted it. Though the dress was a bit too tight, meant for a woman with more dainty shoulders, a slimmer waist.

She tugged at the bodice as she lifted her head to the warm sunlight to gaze up at the Pack Hall. Any discomfort she’d previously felt seeing that large window had been overtaken by joy and excitement.

Home.

She was desperate for a proper bath. For Kai. A proper bath with Kai. A bed. Some decent sleep.

But would there even be time for any of that?

“Do you think Jonah went to the hall last night to look in the library, or is he still at the shop?” Ameera asked as they looked between the two transport options. One would take them closer to Jonah’s and the other to Kai. Upon a glance at Isla’s antsy form, she snickered. “I know what you want to do, and I’m sure it’s what he wants. Are your mate senses reacting?”

Though the general had been sarcastic, Isla noted the bond, her wolf, and how much steadier they both felt. More present, finally. Yet still, there was something tense about their connection. Maybe it was just Kai. It was a safe bet that he’d been worried about her, about all of them.

“You can check in and see if Jonah’s there. I’ll talk to Kai,” Isla said.

“He’s going to lose his mind after he finds out,” Rhydian said.

“He should,” Ameera lowered her voice. “Especially, if whatever you’re saying about a traitor is true.”

“I don’t know for a fact that’s what it means yet,” Isla said. “And—”

“Ameera!”

The call of the general’s name had come from behind them all.

Isla had known the voice before they’d even whipped around.

Ameera grumbled from Isla’s side as Ezekiel stalked towards them, appearing from a street that had led to the boats that carried people beneath the bridge and into the mountain. “What is he doing here?”

That was a great question.

As he got closer, Isla couldn’t even wonder at the similarities between the family members. Couldn’t laugh at the way a vein was present near Ezekiel’s temple, just like his daughter’s. Even their small exchange fell on deaf ears.

She was too distracted, too concerned with how disheveled he looked. How distraught. There was darkness beneath his eyes. Something wild yet cowering within them. Like a cornered doe. He hadn’t even looked like this two nights ago after the rogues had attacked. He’d been shaken—yes, as they all had—but still had some generous composure.

Here, that seemed to hang on a thread.

Something was wrong. Something worse than what had happened two nights ago.

Isla’s thoughts were confirmed when he glanced at her and caught sight of her mark, visible just slightly where her unzipped jacket left the skin exposed beneath her dress’s wide neckline.

Since the day they’d met, since his first prideful, snide remark before the Gate, calling her a dame, Isla had dreamt about seeing the look on his face if she and Kai one day mated. When the “dim-witted”, “insolent” woman became his superior. When he’d have to bow to her.

But there was barely a drop of anger or annoyance on his face. Barely any shock. All she could see on his face was pity.

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