Chapter 129 The Crossing
Ryker stood by his bike at the edge of the Shadow Peak, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles were white.
Beside him, Dax paced back and forth, his eyes darting toward the dark mouth of the cave higher up the slope. Cassian stood a few paces back, leaning against a jagged rock.
They had been waiting for hours. The three days the Blood King had demanded felt like an eternity that Ryker was not willing to pay.
The cave was eerily silent. There were no sounds of chanting, no light in there and most importantly, no scent of Lyra.
"We’ve waited long enough," Ryker growled impatiently. "I don't care about the deal. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my chest."
Dax stopped pacing and looked at his brother. "Ryker, think for a second. This is a terrible idea. If we storm that cave and the Blood King is still in there, he’ll use Lyra as a shield. Or worse, the witches will collapse the mountain on top of us. We need a better plan than just running in there blind."
"I don't have time for a better plan," Ryker snapped. He began to climb the steep, rocky path toward the entrance. "You can stay here and talk about plans, Dax. I’m going to get my wife."
Cassian didn't say a word, but he followed Ryker, his hand resting on the hilt of a long silver blade he had scavenged.
Dax cursed under his breath, looked at the empty trail behind them, and then scrambled to catch up. "Fine! But if we all die, I’m going to tell you 'I told you so' in the afterlife."
They reached the mouth of the cave. The smell of animal ding and bitter herbs filled the air. Ryker didn't hesitate, he shifted partially, his claws extending and his eyes glowing as he scanned the dark cave, Cassian right behind him.
But they were wrong.
The cave was actually not empty. Six witches stood around a stone altar with their dirty white robes.
They didn't look like they were performing a ritual, in fact, it even looked like they were cleaning up the remains of one. When they saw the three men burst in, they looked amused.
"You’re late, little wolves," the lead witch mocked. "And so weak. Did you really think we would just sit here for three days waiting for you to get your courage up?"
Ryker lunged forward, his hand catching the lead witch by the throat. He slammed her against the cold stone wall. "Where is she? Where is Lyra?"
The other witches began to laugh "She is long gone, Alpha. The Master doesn't like to wait. He took her across the borders. She is in the heart of the vampire territory now. By the time you reach the city gates, the final ritual will be over, and she won't even remember your name."
Enraged, Ryker tightened his grip and felt his claws sink into the witch's skin. "I should slaughter all of you right here."
"Go ahead," the witch gasped, her face turning a sickly shade of purple. "Kill us. But the moment our blood hits this floor, the Blood King will know. He has a link to our life force. If you hurt his 'sisters,' he will kill Lyra before you can even cross the river. Is that the trade you want to make?"
Ryker hesitated, his chest heaving. The thought of Lyra being hurt because of his temper made his blood run cold.
Dax stepped forward, pushing between Ryker and the witch. He looked at the coven with a look of pure pity. "You’re all so stupid," Dax said calmly. "Do you really think the Blood King cares about you? Do you think he’s going to form an alliance with a bunch of hags in a cave? He’s toying with you. He’s using you to get what he wants, and the moment he’s done, he’ll discard you like trash."
The witches stopped laughing.
"Think about it," Dax continued. "Witches, vampires, and werewolves have been enemies for millennia. But werewolves were always closer to your kind than the leeches ever were. We both use the power of the moon. Centuries ago, witches used to heal our warriors and create spells for our protection. In turn, the packs protected the covens from the vampires who wanted to hunt you for your blood. We had trust once. But you breached it. You traded that history for a monster who hates everything that breathes."
The lead witch narrowed her eyes. "The wolves grew too strong. You took the valley and as if that wasn't enough, you took the desert. We had no choice."
"And you think a Vampire King will give it back?" Dax countered. "He wants to rule everything! There is no room for witches in his world."
Ryker couldn't listen anymore. The talk of history didn't matter. Only the distance between him and Lyra mattered.
He let go of the lead witch and swung his arm, his claws leaving deep gashes in the stone inches from her head. "I don't care about your reasons. You helped him take her."
He began to attack blindly. He wasn't trying to be careful anymore. He slashed at the nearest witch, drawing blood.
The witches shrieked and began to chant in a high-pitched, frantic language. Before Ryker could land another blow, a thick cloud of purple smoke erupted in the center of the cave.
When the smoke cleared, the cave was silent. The witches had vanished, leaving only the scent of burnt sage and the blood on Ryker's claws.
"They went to warn him," Cassian said, his voice low.
"Then we go to the vampire territory," Ryker said, turning toward the exit. "Now."
They ran back down the mountain toward their bikes. When they reached the bottom, Cassian stopped.
He looked toward the dark road where the vampire borders began. He looked wary, his confidence from earlier gone.
"Ryker, wait," Cassian said. "We can't just ride in there. It’s too dangerous. The three of us can't possibly rescue her from an entire city of vampires. We need to go back to the pack. We need the full army."
Ryker turned to him angrily. The grief and the rage had pushed him past the point of reason. "The pack is miles away. By the time they get here, she’ll be gone forever. I’m not waiting, Cassian. And we don't have to be three."
"What do you mean?" Dax asked.
"I mean I'm doing this alone," Ryker said. He hopped onto his bike and kicked the engine to life. "Stay here or go back to the pack house. I don't care. But I am getting my wife."
Before Dax or Cassian could say another word or try to advise him, Ryker slammed the bike into gear.
He sped off, the tires kicking up a massive cloud of dust. He rode like a madman, the wind whipping past his face, his mind focused on the bridge that marked the edge of the vampire lands.
He crossed the rocky plains and reached the banks of the river that separated the territories. The water was dark and rushing, reflecting the dim light of the vampire sky.
Ryker slowed the bike as he reached the bridge, his eyes scanning the shadows.
He didn't know what he expected. Maybe an army or some sort of guards.
Instead, he saw a figure.
It was racing toward the river from the direction of the vampire city. The figure was fast, faster than any human or wolf. As it got closer, Ryker was ready to defend himself.
But then he saw the mounds of her breasts and froze.
The figure was tall and lithe, its skin wasn't pale like a vampire's or tanned like a wolf's; it was a strange, shimmering shade of blue-grey under the moonlight.
The figure had long, wild hair and sharp fangs that were elongated.
It wasn't a werewolf. It wasn't a vampire. It was a terrifying, beautiful mix of both. The power coming off the figure was so intense that Ryker could feel it.
He had only ever met one hybrid in his entire life.
"Lyra!" Ryker screamed, his voice breaking with pure joy.