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1
SEITH
Ispit on the forest floor and lean against a tree, leaving my scent on Clan McMar territory. It will piss off their Alpha.
Good.
For I am pissed off, and Lenox knows it. I want retribution, and I wonder how he’ll negotiate this one since he and I had a nice peace going on, with only a few border squabbles here and there. Nothing like the fight that happened on this farm several spans ago when one of his enforcers took out three of my males. One of them was my enforcer, Douglas, a brother of a male who is my second-in-command.
Now, Lenox owes me a debt.
And I must claim something he’s not willing to give. It has to be that way. It must be something that’ll hit him and the clan hard. I can think of only one thing that will make up for Douglas’s death, and that’s the death of the lycan who killed him.
I whistle, but Lenox can’t hear me due to the chatter. A small group of people have gathered on the lawn around the firepit with blankets, laughter, herbs, and chestnuts. His immediate circle, I presume. I spot the omega widow, the red-haired female Douglas died for, hanging out with a dark-haired male. This must be Rohan, the male who claimed her, the male responsible for the deaths of Douglas and two others.
There’s old Grand, smoking a pipe. I remember him from when I was a wee lad. He shagged my grandma’s aunt and started one of many clan wars. There’s also a young male there, barely an adult, I’d say, and when I hear him call out to the omega, I find out she’s his mother.
Two fingers in my mouth depress my tongue, and I whistle again. Lenox tilts his head, but remains sitting behind his mate, a pretty, young Kilseleian princess. They’re sitting on a blanket by the fire, and she’s leaning into him as his arms encircle her as if someone’s gonna steal her.
Must be nice to have a mate.
I spit on the floor again.
Whistle again.
The damn music from a string instrument I don’t recognize, played by a Kilseleian female sitting next to the princess, is muffling my calls. I wait for the female to stop playing, but the song seems to go on forever. The music is soothing and pleasant, the instrument capable of creating sounds I’ve never heard before, and her fingers, light and fast, stroke the strings with familiarity and expertise.
The moment she pauses, I release a long whistle, risking the patrol males hearing me.
Lenox’s ear twitches.
Here he comes. Finally.
Neither Lenox nor I want an audience. We prefer meeting alone, alpha male to alpha male. A long time ago, we had our shaft-measuring contest, figured out the lengths are about the same, and since then, we’ve been able to avoid bloodshed between our clans. Unfortunately, not too long ago, his males spilled Ott clan blood, and now I’m owed a debt.
I retreat into the forest, having no doubt he’ll track me by scent. Sure enough, Lenox soon joins me. With his abundant long dark hair gone, he’s as bald as the eggs Douglas bought from this farm. “Were you born bald?” Amused, I show him my teeth.
He leans against a tree trunk and rubs his shoulder on it, marking the tree in case I forgot this is his territory. He crosses his arms over his chest, which has hardly any hair growing on it. The sight makes me almost feel bad for him. I heard he’s had a run-in with some magic, but I didn’t realize the damage was this severe.
I run a hand through my thick, short hair just to rub it in. “You owe me a debt.” Once Douglas found out the widow was an omega, he formed what we call an omega pack, which is a pack of males united in breeding an omega female. The pack claimed her and had the right to her, and the other male, Rohan, should’ve challenged the pack or answered their challenge if he wanted her. Instead, he lured them into a trap and slaughtered some, maimed the others.
“I’ll pay the debt. Seven hundred golds and seven ships.”
Too easy, though it is a generous offer. “Not enough.”
Another male joins us. It’s the male who claimed the omega. He’s got dark hair and is about my age, with tattoos. A lycan pirate.
“I’m Rohan.” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “And that is my farm and my omega.”
I grunt. “You killedmeenforcer and two others.” And maimed seven more who came back and told me he wasn’t alone.
“Douglas, was it? I warned him not to come back here.”
“The omega was his to claim.”
The male growls and starts toward me. My shaft hardens at the prospect of a fight, and I flex my claws, but Lenox steps in the middle, his front to his male. “Stand down.”
The male grits his teeth but obeys his Alpha, and I return to causally leaning against Lenox’s tree. Itching for a fight I’m avoiding, I scratch my back against the trunk. It’s akin to leaving a mark on McMar territory, and I know a clan Alpha can’t stand it when another male leaves a scent on what he considers his property.
