Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, they were urgently summoned back to the pack lands.
Treffon guided his hovercraft to the castle gates, where a small mob had formed.
Lukan, the Reginar of the Wor-Lans, was there, with easily a hundred of his men. They stood in front of the castle gates, shouting threats.
Treffon climbed out of the hover and rushed forward, with Violet trailing behind him.
The rage in the air was physically painful; her bones ached and her head throbbed. Lukan strode up to Treffon, eyes blazing with anger. The two men were matched in height and size and, Violet suspected, in strength; she prayed they wouldn’t fight.
“You will release Voljaki to us at once,” Lukan snarled at Treffon, before he could say a word.
Treffon stood his ground. “Make way for me so I can speak to my men.”
Muttering curses, Lukan and his men stepped back and made a pathway, and Treffon and Violet walked through the gates and up the steps leading to the entryway of the castle.
Madok and a group of his men were gathered in a circle surrounding a furious Voljaki – and Zura. Zura clung to Voljaki’s arm. Both Voljaki and Zura had clearly just been in a fight; their hair was ruffled, their clothing torn and bloodied.
Madok and Reznik rushed forward, both shouting at Treffon.
“Silence!” Treffon bellowed, and sent out a blast of rage so intense and thick that the men howled in pain and Violet cried out and clapped her hands over her ears.
“You.” Treffon pointed at Madok. “What is happening?”
“Voljaki is behind the attacks on Violet.” Madok’s eyes glittered with rage. “We searched his quarters while he was out on patrol this morning, and found empty bottles of the poison that he used in Violet’s meal. And he was going to try again. Last night, someone disabled the security on your quarters, Treffon, and entered the room and put the poison in her shampoo and in her toothpaste.”
Treffon swung on Voljaki with a snarl, and claws curved from his fingertips.
“He did not do it!” Zura shouted. “Someone must have planted the poison there. And he never entered your chambers last night.”
“How do you know that?” Treffon demanded.
Her gaze dropped to the ground. “Because I know where he was all night.”
“Even if you were guarding Voljaki’s room, he could have sneaked out,” Madok growled.
“No, I mean I was with Voljaki all night long,” she said defiantly, looking up again to meet her father’s gaze. “He is my true mate. I tried to deny it at first, because I knew that you would be likely to challenge him, and one of you would die. Even though we are not close, I do not wish your death. Or his.”
Madok’s face flushed dark with rage. “Yes, I knew he was your true mate. I can always sense these things. That is why I tried to keep her away from him,” he added, glancing at Treffon. “I did not want her to be tempted. Of course, I hoped she would be strong enough to deny her disgusting base desire for this…this traitor from a pack of traitors.”
At that, Voljaki snarled and lunged forward, but two guards grabbed his arms and restrained him. Violet got the impression that if Voljaki wanted to, he could have easily overpowered them, but he was holding himself back – just barely.
“That strange-smelling drink in your flask,” Treffon said. “You were drinking leerian weed to suppress the Var-hool, and you had disguised the scent somehow. That is why it smelled so odd.”
“It is true. But I can hold back my feelings no longer, and I will not allow him to be framed,” Zura said firmly. “He is my true mate, and I am his.”
“You could still walk away,” Madok argued. “Keep taking the leerian weed. Find a more suitable mate, someone from our pack…” He trailed off. Zura was shaking her head.
“You are dead to me,” he spat.
“I know.” There was an undercurrent of sadness in Zura’s voice.
Voljaki spoke up. “If she is not made to feel welcome here, then she can return with me to the Wor-Lan pack.”
“You’re not off the hook yet,” Madok snarled. He swung on his daughter, his face furious. “You are clearly lying to protect him. You have turned out to be nothing but a bitch in heat, a woman without honor.”
Voljaki let out a furious bark at the insult to his true mate, and shifted. In his rage, it was quick and ugly, and probably painful. His hands were paws by the time they hit the ground with a thump. His clothes all but exploded from his body as fur rolled down his spine, hackles raised. His mouth opened wide, rows of vicious teeth bursting forth as his jaws deformed into an enraged snarl.
