Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) (27 page)

Epilogue

Kele strode to the top of the Temple stairs where Peder waited. She held her breath. His golden hair shone with sunlight and his smile deepened when their gazes met. This was it. That one moment where fate showed her all the pieces of her life falling in place. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled gently along her cheeks. Let her pack witness it. They needed to know their alpha female had a heart, after all.

Mating ceremonies were usually private and between the couples, but after so much grief, pack morale was low. Their bond would heal the wounds the tragic deaths had left. So many members of the pack wished to attend they decided to hold it outside on the Temple steps, where she and Peder could be seen by all.

Once she reached the top, she turned to face Peder and offered him her hand, the one with the slave brand.

He wiped her cheeks dry first and grasped her fingers with the hand that held the matching scar. In her heart, this horrid symbol had changed to represent how much they were willing to fight for each other. Nothing this universe tossed their way could tear them apart.

Normally their alphas would speak the ceremony words for the mating couple, so they had to improvise.

“I, Kele of the Payami pack, take you Peder for a mate. Through trials of pain and battle we found each other and triumphed over our enemies. I will stand by you, support you and hold you in my heart for all the days of my life.” Her voice hitched on the last part.

Peder ran his thumb under her eye again to catch a tear. “I, Peder of the Payami, take you Kele for my mate. Through loss and joy we found each other. I will care for you through sickness and strife for all the days of my life.” He turned to the Temple wall, where he cut a piece of thorn vine and returned to her.

Together, they weaved it tight around their wrists, letting the thorns bite into their flesh and the new blooms mask the scent of blood as it trickled along their arms, mingling to become one. They raised their arms.

The pack cheered, a few in feral form howled. Kele was sure the Apisi on the other side of the mountain could hear them.

She and Peder descended to their waiting pack. Accepting well wishes and hugs, they remained side by side until the last of the pack left.

Kele unwound the vine from their wrists. “This stings more than I thought it would.” The blood had dried on her skin. Using finesse, she managed to remove it without restarting the bleeding.

Peder watched her hands intently.

“Did I hurt you?”

His head jerked up at her question. “No, you never hurt me.” He gave her a chaste kiss. “It’s nice.”

She traced a fading bruise on his arm. The wounds of a body healed much faster than those on the soul. Even though she was alpha, she’d continue on as healer too and Peder would always be her priority. She wouldn’t rest until she could erase the dark shadows lurking in his eyes.

He lifted her chin with a finger so their gazes met. “Wife, I think this is when you’re supposed to undress and have your way with me.”

Her cheeks warmed and it had nothing to do with the sunshine.

Peder nuzzled the spot on Kele’s shoulder where his bite had scarred and marked her. Their mixed scents filled his nose. Every time he inhaled it his chest wanted to burst with bliss.

She nipped his chin playfully. “Catch me if you can.” Then she took off, shifting to feral form and running through the underbrush.

The thrill of the hunt rushed through his veins. He’d recently discovered this sensation. Running with the hunters, tracking prey and attacking in a combined force. This was what he’d grown to become.

He changed form and followed her tracks. The wind blew through his fur and the silence of the forest caressed his senses. A few days alone and free… He stumbled to a stop as he almost ran Kele over. “What is it?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

He took a lungful of air. Death. Decay. “Vampire?”

“What did Benic do?” She ran once more with him upon her heels, with an urgency her playful romp lacked, until they reached the edge of the forest.

She crouched low in the foliage.

Setting his hands on her shoulders, he pressed her down. “Stay here. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

She wuffed. “I don’t think so. You need someone to watch your back.”

He learned since he joined the Payami that arguing with Kele was futile. Best to save his breath for times when he had to win something very important. She could fight as well as he. They crept out to the plains where the tall grass danced with the wind. The smell grew intense. “There.” He pointed to something big sticking out of the ground. Cold claws of dread gripped his spine as they approached.

It was a slaver’s corpse. The only reason why he knew was because of the message written on a sign below his body. Benic had nailed the vampire to a wooden cross, then propped him up in front of the forest. The sign read,
This is what happens to those who poach on my land.
Signed
Lord Benic.

The corpse opened his eyes.

Peder jumped back and took Kele with him. A snarl of surprise ripped from his throat as he knelt for attack.

It tried to speak, but the cavity was empty of teeth or tongue.

Peder sat hard on his haunches. The slaver was still alive, even in this condition. “Benic was right. He did punish them worse than I could have.” It took more than a few nails, missing body parts and exposure to kill a vampire. A shifter had to cut out a vampire’s heart or behead the bloodsucker so it would die. For extra assurance, it was recommended to burn the corpse. This slaver would suffer for a long time.

Kele rubbed her chest and retreated a few more steps toward the forest, then halted as if shocked. “Look. There’s another one.” Far away almost out of sight another cross rose from the ground.

“He posted them along our woods.” Peder stood and sneezed the smell from his nose.

“Should we ask Benic to take them down?” She reached for Peder’s hand and clung to it.

His stomach rolled at how much they must be suffering, then he remembered the omega female they’d used the night they branded him, and the other Timothy had killed to make them shift. How many countless others had died? “No, this is a good message to any other slavers who think to enter our territory.” He hugged her from behind, needing her strength and her softness at the same time. “Remind me to send Benic a case of our finest wine.”

She didn’t move or speak.

“Kele?”

“I was just wondering if we should kill them and put them out of their misery.” She twisted to meet the vampire’s pleading stare. “Do you remember the omega female who vanished the night they branded us?”

“Of course,” he whispered. His mouth had gone dry.

“I hope Benic took his time.” She glanced at him. “Do you love me less for that?”

Peder scratched at his chin. “Would you love me less if I agreed with you?”

She sighed. “We are well matched.”

“Follow me to the mountains.”

Her ears perked forward. “What’s there?”

“I know of a beautiful waterfall. We can spend the day and night there.”

“Can we visit Susan and Sorin to see their new pups?”

“If Sorin grants us permission to cross on his territory.” He had no doubt his old pack would welcome them for a visit. He and Sorin should be able to tolerate each other for at least a day.

They strolled away from the stench and went deeper into the forest. Soon the scent of green things cleared his nose. He shoved the image of the tortured slavers from his mind. He’d spend the afternoon making Kele forget them as well.

Kele’s shoulder brushed against his. “I love you, Peder.”

He licked the tip of her ear. “I love you more.”

About the Author

Annie Nicholas hibernates in the rural, green mountains of Vermont where she dreams of different worlds, heroes and heroines. When spring arrives the stories pour from her, in hopes that she can share them with the masses one day.

Mother, daughter, wife are some of the hats she happily wears while trudging after her cubs through the hills and dales. The four seasons an inspiration and muse.

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Look for these titles by Annie Nicholas

Now Available:

Chronicles of Eorthe

Scent of Salvation

Scent of Valor

Love blooms across species, cultures, and time.

Scent of Salvation

© 2013 Annie Nicholas

Chronicles of Eorthe, Book 1

Stranded in another dimension, on a primitive version of Earth, Dr. Susan Barlow needs to find a way to survive. There’s no electricity, no cities, and to her shock, no humans. Instead, she faces a population of werewolves, vampires and incubi. The people are vicious but she must find her place among them. And live.

An illness is killing Sorin’s pack. As alpha it’s his responsibility to save them, but it’s a battle this warrior doesn’t know how to fight. Then a blue light in the sky brings a creature he’s never seen. She calls herself human, but to him she smells like hope.

Sorin offers Susan a safe haven in return for a cure, but she’s not
that
kind of a doctor. She’s a doctor of physics, not a physician. Yet as they search for a cure to save a dying people, they find something special—each other.

But even with Sorin’s protection, Susan can’t help but wonder how long she can survive in a world without humans…

Warning: Feral shifters, power-hungry vampires, and a sole human female suffering culture shock.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Scent of Salvation:

“What are you?” the female asked.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was speaking to him. “I—I’m a wolf shifter, alpha of the Apisi.” Taking a slow step forward, he sniffed close to her body. “What in creation are you?” Now that he stood only a few inches from her, he could see her un-callused hands, as if she’d never seen a single day’s hard work. No scars on the exposed skin of her neck and face. Apparently, she’d never fought for dominance either. Even her fine, tailored clothes appeared too rich for the area.

She struggled to free her arms but only made things worse. “What?” Cocking her head to the side, she stared at him. “I’m human.”

“Stay still.” He snapped the order. Sorin released his retractable claws on one hand, sliced the vines, and freed her arms. “I’ve never heard of hu-man. You must live farther south from the vampires.” So he’d been following the scent of a human.

She clutched her neck with shaky hands. “Vampires?” Her gaze never left his claws as he slowly sliced her legs free.

Once done, he gave her space. Her fear scent excited his beast since fright usually accompanied prey. He tapped his foot, his claws clicking against the stone floor. “What are you doing on Temple lands?”

“I’m lost.” The human spoke so softly he had to strain to hear. She kept glancing between him and golden-furred Peder as if waiting for one of them to pounce.

He tried not to stare so hard. Soft creatures didn’t survive in the wild long, and this female was filled with all different kinds of softness. He sighed. “Did you see the blue light?” All he had wanted was a few moments of peace. Instead, he found…her.

“No, where was it?” She sidestepped toward the Temple exit.

“Right above our heads, not long ago.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how you missed it.” Since she fell out of it. He’d seen her limp form tumbling in the air from the light just before it winked out.

She trembled, and her scent changed. “I—I—oh yeah, the blue light. Weird phenomenon. Scared the shit out of me.” She quickened her steps to the exit. “I should be heading home.”

“How?” The scent of her untruths grew stronger. Everyone knew you couldn’t lie to shifters. Why was she trying? “You just said you were lost. Will you wander unaccompanied through our forests until someone worse than me finds you?”

Peder quietly stepped behind her to block the exit. He might be submissive for a male, but he was smarter than most and could work without guidance. Sorin would make a hunter of him if it was the last thing he did.

The human blinked her large brown eyes, such an unusual color. Everyone he knew had amber, blue or green eyes, never the rich darkness of mother earth. Life came from the earth, which was why they returned their dead to it. Did this human bring life with her?

“Maybe the Goddess sent her?” Peder’s softly spoken question quieted Sorin’s doubts.

Fanning his ears, Sorin stepped closer to her. “Did she send you?” What little hope he’d sheltered for his people had vanished this morning when he’d spoken the burial rites over the graves. This stranger shed some light through his despair.

She shook her head. “N-no.”

“You will return with me.” Sent from the Goddess or not, he couldn’t afford to take any chances by letting her go. So much for not dragging an unmarked female to his den. It would make hunting and defense that much harder since his healthy hunters would strut through their canyon home and beat each other senseless over a stray.

Her gaze darted to the doorway just before she slipped under his arm and past Peder’s reach. Swift as a jackrabbit, she scrambled down the stairs and squeezed into the thick brush surrounding the Temple.

As he watched her escape, Sorin shook his head. He really was tired. Too many sleepless nights in a row were affecting his reflexes. The odd blue light, her sudden appearance and his need for a miracle were too coincidental.

He pointed at Peder. “Go get the flowers and bring them to Lailanie. I’ll take care of the female.”

“Chasing will only frighten her more, Alpha.” Peder still stared at the floor, but at least he offered his advice without being coerced.

“What would you have me do? Let some other pack have her?”

“No, just don’t be so…intimidating.” He pointed to his exposed teeth with his claws. “Try not thinking she’s prey.”

“Go get the fucking flowers, Peder. I promise not to eat her.” He leapt from the stone steps and skirted brush too dense for him to enter. The sly female wedged easily into the smaller spaces where he couldn’t pursue with his bulk, but the brush didn’t lead anywhere. It only surrounded the Temple foundation. She was trapped.

Crouching low to the ground, he moved along the thick wall of plants. His little prey made enough noise that even the youngest of pups could track her. With ears fanned open, he followed her progress. The birds started their songs again as he got to the far end of the area.

By the Dark Moon, she moved slowly. He could have taken a nap while waiting. He watched Peder head toward their home with a small sack of flowers. The rustling in the bushes drew closer, and Sorin gathered his energy to pounce.

From out of the brush snapped a young sapling, which whipped the sensitive tip of his nose. With a yelp, Sorin fell back, clamping his hands over his muzzle. Through pain-filled eyes, he watched the female tear across the open ground.

Sorin blinked to clear his vision and bounded after his suddenly fast quarry. Her white coat fluttered behind her like a treaty flag, but this female didn’t show any signs of surrender.

She ran full-tilt up the hill toward its summit.

Trailing closer, he could smell the trace of border markings on the wind. If he didn’t hurry, she’d run off the neutral ground of Temple lands and onto some other pack’s territory. He couldn’t follow if she did. “Stop! There’s danger that way.”

She twisted and glanced at him, not watching her step. Something caught her foot at the top of the hill and she fell.

Sorin leaped, reaching with clawed fingers. They pierced the hem of her white jacket. The delicate material tore along the sharp edges of his claws, and the shreds slipped through his fingers. Relief mixed with triumph, pumping through his veins, gave way to dread. He scrambled to grab the tatters and not lose the female, but the momentum of her flight downhill sent her tumbling head-over-heels out of his grasp.