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prologue: the rogue wolf
Silvan Rincewind kept to the perimeter of the clearing. Near enough to be seen and for others to know he was there, but far enough out for others to know he waswatching.
He already knew what Asa would say before the prideful beast spoke a word. Blah, blah, blah, justice for Claude, their cherished elder and friend, whose drained corpse lay at the center of the clearing, was left to send a message. Everything was according to their laws, which had always been more about politics than justice.
Silvan’s hands twitched at his sides. He was ready to shift, totear.He didn’t need a fucking pack meeting to tell him a fucking vampire had taken Claude from them. It wasn’t even the fang marks on the corpse’s neck, though that should have been enough to forego decorum and burn down the Marchand empire until not a single bloody devil remained among them.
No, the vampires had always taken what wasn’t theirs. No matter what was said in the forest that night under the harvest moon, Silvan was done watching the vampires carve a trail of blood through their pack.
Wind whipped through the cypress. The stench of the bayou, miles away, was as ripe as though he stood in it up to his knees. He avoided those cursed wetlands whenever he could. The bayou was for the witches, and if Asa dared suggest they summon the coven to deal with pack business…
“Calm yourself before someone gets hurt,” Asa said, striding past without so much as a glance his way.
Silvan snarled and reared forward after him. “Someone alreadyhasgotten hurt, Father. More than hurt. What are we doing here in the forest? What good is talk?” He quickened his stride to keep pace. “We know what we need to do, so let’s fuckingdo it.”
Asa spun with such violent fury that Silvan almost forgot the man would never actually hurt him. “Do not tell me how to lead this pack, Sil. Your mother—”
“Isdeadbecause ofthe same monsters.” Silvan jutted an arm toward the clearing. He felt the eyes of the rest of the pack on them, quietly reading the feud between father and son. Asa’s father would be even angrier about that as he was about any quibble that challenged his authority, but anger about anything other than Claude’s killers, who were, at that moment, running around thinking they’d gotten away with it, was a waste of rage. “The vampires have been allowed to roam these forests for too long! Too long they have stalked our elders, our women. One of our children, even—”
“Enough!” Asa boomed. The trees shimmered overhead and to the sides. The pack whispered among themselves. It should have bothered Silvan, but it didn’t. He was used to being seen as the rogue wolf, the disappointment. The heir who could never be allowed to become alpha. “You will calm yourself, Silvan Rincewind, or you will go stand with the pack andnotat my side.”
Silvan slammed his mouth shut. Asa had never threatened that before. Sure, he’d always had choice words for his only son, and even Silvan could admit he sometimes deserved them. But Claude had been more than a member of the pack. He’d been family. Asa’s late father’s brother. One of the very last of the true elders.
Fresh fury whipped through Silvan, and soon he felt the sensation of fur breaking through flesh. Rage-shifting was painful and forbidden, for a wolf shifting through bloodlust was inherently dangerous.
Nose flaring, he grunted and turned away. “No need for threats, Father. I’ll stand along the forest line, where I can keep watch. Go on and share your wisdom while Claude rots, unavenged.”
Silvan stormed away before his father could rebuke him for the vitriol that was a tad extreme, even for him. He had no intention of apologizing, though, not then nor later, when his blood cooled. If it ever did.
He truly believed he’d never know peace until every last vampire in Louisiana was a pile of ash.
Far from the pack, he could catch wind of any change in scent. He’d feel better if someone else took watch on the other side of the perimeter, but the rest of the pack fed upon Asa’s words like they were the only sustenance they’d ever need. They loved the man and worshiped the wolf.
“Beloved brothers and sisters…” Asa stepped up onto the stone dais the pack had dragged into the clearing. Keera, one of the unmatched females, helped him up when he wobbled. He smiled down at her, and she blushed as though they were at a damn cotillion.
She probably hopes Father will pair her with me.
Silvan snorted. Little chance of that happening. The last wolf he wanted to mate with was one who lapped hungrily at the altar of his father’s bullshit.
“This is a dark day for the Rincewind Pack,” Asa continued. The wind whipped through his long black hair, and for a moment, he resembled a stadium rock god. “And a dark day for me and my kin. Claude was more than one of us. He was my father’s brother, my mentor, and my friend. Vengeance is, of course, on all of our minds, but so should be the potential for war.”
“Vampires!” someone shouted, and the word caught like wildfire, spreading through the pack in an animated chant.
Silvan smirked and crossed his arms.
Asa listened with godlike patience, and when the chant faded, he held up a hand to silence them. “The fang marks at the neck seem to justify that suspicion.” When the pack began to rile and howl, he held his hand higher, and they quieted. “But when vampires have attacked us in the past, they have traditionally left less of a trail. It would almost seemtooobvious it’s a vampire, wouldn’t it? As though we were expected to think just that.”
Silvan growled, his jaw scissoring in burning agitation. He knew precisely what his father would propose next.
“Thus, we cannot know who our killer is without conducting a full investigation. To do so, we need help from our allies.”
“Fucking hell,” Silvan hissed. He raked a hand down his stubble and paced.
“But it will not be said that Asa Rincewind made a decision while deep in his own troubled grief. So tonight, we’ll put it to a vote. If you believe we should summon the Delacroix Coven to our aid, as is our right, then when I lower my hand again, show me your support by shifting into your true form. If you believe we should handle matters on our own, then stay as you are.”
Silvan’s gaze flitted across the pack, waiting to see who would give in to his father’s weak-ass, pitiful attempt at diplomacy and who would stand and avenge their own, witches be damned.
Asa nodded, surveying the pack with a wistful look before lowering his hand.
