Midnight Reckoning

“You could have saved yourselves all of this anyway, if you’d open your eyes. I know you’ve had contact with the Ptolemy, with Queen Arsinöe. With the House of Shadows. You’d align with them and still throw Lyra out for touching me. How does that make any sense? The queen will destroy you a lot more effectively than I ever could!”



Eric walked up to him, bared his teeth, and slashed him across the face with his claws. The pain was sharp, but brief, as his head rocked to the side. He heard Lyra’s furious cry.



“Eric, don’t!”



Jaden saw the blood spatter the ground, but he could already feel the flesh knitting together.



“Don’t accuse me, vampire,” Eric growled. “All your wishing I would destroy my pack that way won’t make it true.” He shot a heated look at his cousin. “Some of us actually care about preserving what we have, instead of trying to change everything.”



He turned away, and Jaden was left to glare after him. Unlike the mark on Lyra’s arm, there was no proof that Eric was in league with the Ptolemy except for the word of a Shade, another vampire who had doubtless skipped town at the first sign of trouble. Maybe there was more they could do, if the Thorn would even allow his kind to help. But he and Lyra would have to deal with the problem at hand first. And he could see already that for Lyra, this would be nothing less than devastating.



He would get her out of this. And then he would do what he needed to make her see that even if he wasn’t the future she’d wanted, he could provide her with far more care than she would ever have gotten from any wolf.



“Dorien, don’t do this to her,” Jaden said, a final effort to convince the man even though he could see the time for convincing had long passed.



“I’m the Alpha,” Dorien said with a shake of his head. “Some things can’t be changed. No matter how much I wish they could be.”



“Then you’re nothing but a fool, after all,” Jaden snapped, finally understanding what Lyra had been up against her entire life. Even if she hadn’t bonded with him, someone would have found a way to stop her at the Proving. She’d never had a chance. He credited Dorien for trying something unconventional instead of forcing her to bend, but Jaden doubted the man would ever buck the system again. No change would come here without a violent upheaval, and he hated to imagine what that would be.



Dorien didn’t lash out at the retort. He seemed as though he’d barely heard it, moving in a daze to stand beside his nephew. The heir apparent.



“Wolves of the Thorn! Choose the fate of my—” His voice faltered for a moment, and Jaden thought he might stop and reconsider, despite everything. But after a deep breath, the Alpha pressed on.



“Choose the fate of my daughter!”



Silence ensued for several seconds, and Jaden felt a glimmer of hope that a handful of the bravest would take up her cause, would demand she be allowed to stay. But then the chant started, low and soft, like the rhythmic beating of a drum.



Lyra looked at the ground, then lifted her head to hold it up, a final act of defiance as she was cast away.



Ghost wolf… ghost wolf… ghost wolf… ghost wolf…



The chanting rose, crested like a wave, echoing into the night sky like some dark song. When Dorien raised his hands, it died away. He nodded to the wolves holding her, and they released her, stepping back. Pain echoed through every word Dorien spoke.



“Lyra Black. You are cast out of the Pack of the Thorn as of this night, cast out of our pack, our territory, our world, never to rejoin our kind. You are a ghost to us, a wolf only in the form you take, not in the life you’ve chosen to lead. And you are no longer my child.”



Jaden heard Lyra’s sharp intake of breath, as though she’d been slapped.



“Dad,” she said softly, pleading. But Dorien turned away. And the anguish Lyra felt tore through Jaden as though it were his own, screaming out of the night and nearly taking him to his knees. The shock of Dorien’s decision made him stumble, and he found himself jerked upward by the men who still held him.



Eric looked on approvingly, though Jaden supposed he couldn’t say the wolf looked pleased. He’d expected more gloating… but maybe that would be saved for later, when he could laugh with his cronies about how easily he’d won after all.



“What about the vampire?” he asked Dorien quietly. “Shall I kill him, or would you like to?”



Dorien shook his head. “Let him go. He defended the pack once, despite everything.” He looked directly at Jaden, his eyes burning with emotions Jaden didn’t even want to guess at. “Consider this a debt repaid, Jaden of the Lilim.” He stepped closer, leaning down to speak directly in Jaden’s ear.



“Take care of her, damn you. It’s the least you can do.”



Then Dorien rose, motioned to the wolves behind Jaden, and Jaden found himself released. Lyra stood alone, looking around as though she didn’t quite know where she was. He hesitated, but finally he went to her. What point was there in hiding it now? She would need someone. Whether she liked it or not, she would need him.



He took her hand, and she didn’t resist. But it felt cold and lifeless in his.



“Go,” Dorien said, and turned away. He began to walk, and didn’t stop, pushing through the crowd so that it swallowed him up and he vanished from view. The fact that he couldn’t watch his daughter go said something. But it would have said more if he hadn’t let it happen at all.



Lyra looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her voice was so soft as to be barely audible.



“Help me do this,” she said.



He nodded. He would walk through fire for her if she asked. One day, maybe she would see that.



The crowd before them parted, clearing a path out of the square. Jaden tugged at Lyra’s hand and got her to start moving. You can do this, he willed her silently. You can do this. Just a few steps more. He didn’t know whether she could sense any of his thoughts, as his kind could do while in their feline forms. But she did come with him, putting one foot in front of the other.



The wolves were silent as the outcasts passed by, and as they passed, each wolf turned his back. The powerful symbolism affected Jaden in no small measure. This truly was meant to be the end for her. He hoped he could be enough to get her through the aftermath. No matter how strong she was, this wound would take time to heal, if it ever did.



They finally passed the edge of the crowd and continued down the deserted street toward the house that was no longer Lyra’s. Jaden wanted to retrieve his car and get out of town as quickly as possible, partly because when he looked over at Lyra, what he saw worried him deeply. She was obviously in shock. She looked as white as a ghost, and her eyes bore a glassy cast. He had never seen her anything but strong. This was not a Lyra he was quite sure what to do with—she had never accepted his comfort, had never needed it. But she clung to his hand as though it was the only thing keeping her afloat.



He would take her to Tipton, and to Lily, Jaden decided. After that, they both could decide what to do next.



“Come on,” he said, urging her to move more quickly. “We need to get to my car and get out of here.” He was suddenly uneasy. They were being watched. He could feel the eyes on them, and seconds later, he picked up the scent.



It seemed they’d be leaving Silver Falls in a bigger hurry than he’d thought. And he could guess very well who had provided them with an escort like this.



Don’t accuse you my ass, Eric Black.



“Shit,” Jaden said. “Run.”



The urgency in his voice seemed to snap her out of her fog, at least enough to move. They dashed forward, Jaden shifting smoothly into his faster form. Lyra must have done the same, because seconds later he had a sleek wolf running alongside him. They headed down a side street, and Jaden knew they were being pursued. He pushed his body to the limit, faster and faster, until his feet barely seemed to be touching the ground. There was the sound of vicious laughter behind them, close. Still, he and Lyra managed to stay just ahead, winding down streets and dashing through yards until they reached her street. He could see his ’Vette shining beneath the streetlight. They were so close—



He realized all at once that Lyra was no longer at his side. Jaden skidded to a halt, spun around, and saw that Lyra had decided to confront their pursuers on her own. She stood, splay-legged, in the middle of the empty street, hackles raised, growling low in her throat at a small group of beautiful, pale-skinned Ptolemy women emerging from the darkness. One, a beautiful blond courtier Jaden remembered lusting over for a time several years ago, strolled to the front of the group, hips swaying. Her smile was cruel.



“Oh, leaving so soon? Come here, doggie. Let’s play.”



Jaden ran to place himself in front of Lyra and shifted into a man again. He could see they all recognized him, not that it would make any difference in their fun. The blonde hissed at him.



“Traitor,” she sneered. The others took up the chant, spitting the word at him.



He could feel Lyra standing behind him, but he stayed where he was.



“It’s a she-wolf,” one of the others snickered. “Interesting company you’re keeping these days, Jaden.” She looked at her blond companion. “Remember how he used to stare at us? Such a pretty cat. Shame he’s got dirty blood. I almost feel bad, seeing what he’s been reduced to.”



The blonde—Jaden remembered her name as Carissa—shrugged. “Kill the wolf. Arsinöe wants Jaden. There are many of us here,” she said, turning her attention back to Jaden with a smile. “You’ll never get out.”



“I’m really not in the mood for this,” Lyra said, her voice hard. “Turn around and leave, or lose your heads. Jaden and I are out of here either way.”



Amazed, Jaden watched Lyra stride past him to face Carissa head-on. The vampire was too stunned by the she-wolf’s audacity to move right away, which he supposed Lyra had counted on. By the time Carissa thought to react, it was too late. Lyra had her by the throat. The tips of her claws dug into tender flesh, and if Carissa’s wide eyes and lack of breathing were any indication, Lyra had a hell of a grip.