Page 93 of Ravenous

“Why not cut through them with your sword? I heard that you are heedless in battle, often running into the fray with your beast half risen.”

“Heedless?” He scoffed. “Try courageous and menacing. For now, with you in tow, I want to avoid the ghouls because of logistics. Their spilled blood gels into glue, and their severed limbs stack like barricades. Think fighting in quicksand with obstacles mounting. And I will need to keep you safe from a scratch at the same time!”

“You’ve obviously gone up against such a number before.”

“Long ago, some villain traced a ghoul to Craigdúr. One turned dozens, overrunning us. We had to put them down.” After a beat, he admitted, “My father among them.”

Ditch’s voice grew softer. “So the sound of those ghouls must bring back memories.”

He nodded gravely. “If we canna avoid them, I take the hits,” he said. “Do no’ let them near you. All it takes is a single contact with their claws or fangs.”

“I’ll gladly let you take the hits,” she said dryly. “But if you fall, I face your brother next. You described ghouls overrunning you. If Straegan rules, your pack becomes the plague. Only we won’t have a river of fire to imprison wolves.”

He couldn’t deny it. “If anything happens to me—tonight or ever—you return to Akelarre at once. Straegan will target you because you’re mine. Truth be told, I fear for you staying in the Skein at all. If he escapes, he’ll tear a witch like you apart.” He’d done it before.

“Then end his threat forever,” she said, bright as a blade. “A little murder between brothers goes a long way.”

Predicting the dangers he would face in the Helter, Thane had descended into the dungeon earlier with that exact grim intent. Straegan had gazed at him with his lips drawn back from his fangs, his eyes blue with menace, knowing why his older brother, once beloved, had come for him.

As Thane’s hand had descended to his weapon and his heart had been rent in two, his Instinct had warned: —Blood.—

He’d heard that warning once before and had ignored it. This time he couldn’t…

Now he said, “He’s committed no crime against the pack, and my Instinct forbids it.” No, Thane couldn’t kill him. But Lowell could.

Thane’s last instructions to his right hand—If I doona return, take control of the kingdom, execute Straegan, and protect Ditch with your life—would theoretically take care of this threat, yet plans often went awry.

“What broke Straegan?” she asked.

Thane had known this would come up. He wouldn’t lie to his mate, but the truth could pitch the witches and the Lykae straight into war.

For a millennium, the pack had obscured Straegan’s past crime, enlisting nymphs to spread distorting rumors. “I suspect a sorceress,” he said at last. “A spell.”

Not a lie. Some incomprehensible force must’ve governed Straegan. He hadn’t been born evil; he and Thane had once been boon companions, would’ve died for each other. Now Straegan had been left twisted.

Yet more reason to despise magic.

Ditch frowned. “You suspect a sorceress, and yet you’re on your way to meet another of her kind.”

“Aye.” Had Straegan done something to attract a Sorceri’s attention? If so, was history about to repeat itself?

A shriek razored through the fog. Thane raised his sword.

“That sounded like a wendigo,” she said.

“And what do you know of them?”

“Corpse eaters. Highly contagious.” She rolled a shoulder. “I’m a fan of Lore.”

Her shrug made him wonder for the thousandth time what powers she possessed. Either they were monumental, or she had a death wish.

“Revenants also live here,” she went on, casual as gossip. “Ajatars and neoptera and a whole bestiary of monsters.”

“Could you act more unconcerned about that fact?”

“Ah, Thane, how human you sound. Don’t you see? We’re all monsters here in the Skein. Just with different goals.”

“I’ll never believe that,” he said and hated that she did.