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Scents, so many scents in a place like this. So many targets just ripe for the picking. I have my orders but everything's so jumbled. I don't know who I'm supposed to kill. Maybe all of them? I would have to take them out one by one, silently. I would have to go back to my days of stealth for such a large quantity. They would overwhelm me, drive me out and I won't be driven out. This is where my brothers are, where she will return someday. I believe that Natalya is not really gone, that she will come back once I've proven myself. I was too late to stop her, too late to tell her about Fathom and comfort her while she grieved for our daughter. She probably found out first and ran, thinking I didn't care. Thinking me the failure of a father that I am. I didn't do anything. I stood there and watched her die, watched her bleed to death right before my eyes. Isola told me to move, told me to lick her, wake her, but I did nothing. I failed her again, just like I failed Stella, Capone, Cordova, Ellie, and Zeteri. Maybe I'm just not meant to be a dad. I'm meant to be a killer. I have to prove myself to Natalya or she won't come back. I have to prove that I'm still the assassin king she fell for. I sneak silently through the edges of the crater, checking every wolf as they come into view but so far nothing drives me, not yet, anyway. Fathom is lost because of me. Natalya is gone because of me, but I'm sure there were others to help. The Glorall king is dead and I keep wondering if that had something to do with her leaving. Did she perhaps love this king and his death was too much for her? No, no, I shake my head. Natalya would never love another. She promised me this. Iromar could be the culprit. They killed Isola's imprint, Finley. Glorall's king was his brother and he wanted revenge. What if they killed him before he got the chance? Iromar is the enemy then. I slink toward the path that leads to them but someone's already following it. Keeping my low profile, I peer through the bushes, making out two forms. My head grows fuzzy at the scent of Diveen but it's hard to recognize such packs. I know the scent of Iromar though and the other wolf is covered in it. Ruvindra. I can make out her profile. I don't really know the other wolf. A blood relation perhaps? He's kind of young to be her courter this winter. I don't understand why he would smell of Diveen but that doesn't matter right now. He's with the enemy and they're heading to Iromar. What's there to know? I focus in on her white form, eyes narrowing into slits. This is her fault. They drove Natalya away to protect Jaidah. Jaidah and Ruvindra are friends in a way, so it would make sense. I look at the male at her side. Could he be her son? Eye for an eye, the guild's code. They drove away Natalya and I lost my daughter. It only makes sense that she should lose her son. I circle around wide so they can't see or smell me till I'm at the boy's left side. I want a direct line to him. I don't waste any time once my eyes are on the prize. Coiling my well oiled muscles, I launch from the side of the path, barreling toward Vidar's rib cage. With enough momentum and weight, I'll use my shoulder as a battering ram to collide with his fragile rib cage and send them both rolling. Once separated and dazed, I'll launch at Vidar, aiming for his face, his throat, whatever I can grab hold of. My head will shake viciously with every snap of my jaws, my wide mouth clamping down like a vise on any piece of flesh that presents itself. My claws will be used like straps to hold him down, pin him to the earth at the mercy or rather, merciless reasoning of my wrath. I barely focus on Ruvindra unless she gets close enough. She is the indirect target of this attack. I aim to hurt her by taking her son the way my daughter was taken. |