112: How close?

112: How close?
Bane pov

The closer we got, the more suspicious my men grew. They weren’t sloppy, just restless and every time I looked at them, I could see that twitch one got when they sensed danger nearing. 

Max kept checking the left while Damon kept looking behind us like enemies were closing in, even though the enemies that mattered were heads of us. 

Cas stayed in the middle, where I put him, and every few minutes one of my men drifted a half step closer to him without being told.

“You’re crowding him,” I said once one of the men accidentally bumped into his shoulder.

Damon didn’t look sorry, in fact, he looked entertained even as he nodded at the man to step aside. “He’s still a rogue walking us toward a camp that we had no idea existed before he found us in the woods. A little crowding won’t kill him, only remind him that we’re not letting him run off if he turns out to be a fraud.”

Cas kept his eyes forward. “If I was going to run, I would’ve done it when you cut the rope.”

“That’s what a smart runner would say too,” Max muttered.

I let them have that moment of entertainment only because fear made people show their real colors. So far, Cas has kept the same mask he arrived with, so I didn’t have a reason to doubt him, but I refused to let my guard down too soon. 

“Talk,” I told Cas after the silence became so suffocating I could think only about turning back and running home to Aife. “We’ve got quite a road ahead of us and the silence is starting to piss me off.”

Cas glanced at me, barely for a second, as if he was checking the mood before he dared to open his mouth in my presence again. “What do you want now? More Bastian? More Garrick?”

“You,” I said. “You already shared some things, but I want to hear more. Don’t dwell on the past or what your job is now, tell me more about the person behind the name.”

He remained silent for long enough for Damon to glance at me and give me the look that meant he wanted me to push the rogue a little harder. I didn’t - people had a habit of filling the silence when it became too much for them too.

“I still think I could be something else,” Cas muttered right as I thought he’d go completely silent on me. “Not this, you know. I’m not trying to complain about getting a second chance, as shitty as it might seem to outsiders, but I never thought I’d become a message boy for a man who sells everything he has just to kill the hunger of those who surround him. I’d like to be a part of a pack, a real one, not just a group of outcasts that are forgotten by everyone but themselves. Maybe get a job that’s not connected to a madman’s obsession.”

Max snorted under his breath. “That’s a pretty hope to carry into a rogue camp.”

“I didn’t say it was pretty,” Cas answered. “I said I still have it and honestly, there’s nothing wrong with hoping for something better. You, pack wolves, look down on rogues like we’re some disease while you have everything and it’s never enough. Wanting to be a part of something and make a difference isn’t a crime.”

I watched his face as he spoke, “you do understand how that sounds to me, right?”

Cas nodded. “Like I’m trying to build a bridge of trust out loud and saying the very thing a traitor would say if he wants his captors to go soft on him.”

“Yes.” I agreed, surprised that he spoke those words.

“I know.” Cas muttered and kept moving forward, “if I was trying to sell you a better version of me, I’d have started with that speech an hour earlier and added more details for pity. I’m saying it now because you asked a question and for once, I have someone who listens carefully enough for me to speak the truth. I can’t exactly go back to rogues and tell them I’m dreaming about becoming a pack member.”

“Or, there’s always a chance you’re being all soft and honest because we’re close enough to the camp for you to want us calm, not charging at the targets,” Damon commented casually.

Cas looked at him and shrugged. “You can think that, I’d probably think that too if I were in your place.”

I considered his words a while before I bothered adding any of my thoughts. “If this speech is a trick, it dies on this path so it doesn’t matter. But, if you’re being truthful, you deserve a pack the same as anybody else in this world. Exile paid for by a father doesn’t make you unworthy, it just makes you somebody whose house failed him.”

Cas glanced at me again and even from that brief moment, I could see the slight shine in his eyes. “The world doesn’t see it the same way as you do, Alpha Bane. I say rogue and people already have the conclusions they prefer - a monster, thief, or an extra body in a ditch. Garrick was the first one who didn’t start with that shit and actually wanted to help.”

Max glanced over. “So you stay because he fed you?”

“I stay because he never looked at me like I was already rotting.” Cas corrected him. “I’m not trying to claim that one good deed makes Garrick holy or anything like that. The fact of the matter is that one good deed from him is the very reason why I’m still breaking. As much as I wish I could be a part of something bigger one day, I don’t think I could leave him behind. Even if a pack opens a door tomorrow, I’d ask them if they have an extra bed for Garrick to sleep on.”

Damon, for once, looked a little impressed by the rogue’s words. There was a look in his eyes, one he gave only men he respected, but it faded as quickly as it flashed there. “Loyalty’s a chain if you put it on the wrong man.”

“I know what he is,” Cas said without looking away from the path. “I know what we did to that town and I’m still not going to pretend I popped out of the ground clean, ready for a fresh name.”

I nodded at his answer, finding myself trapped somewhere between disbelief and respect. The guy was young, clearly having seen more than anyone his age should’ve, which might be the reason why he sounded wise beyond his years. 

Truth be told, I had met plenty of rogues in my life, but never one as young as Cas. On top of that, I never thought anyone could become a rogue just because a parent didn’t want traces of their old life around them anymore. Every pack I knew banished wolves only for unforgivable crimes. His story made me wonder if the words were real and if they were, what kind of Alpha would allow that to happen on his land…

As we kept walking, the trees thinned ahead, but the view seemed unnatural, so I knew this had to be a man-made area, and in turn, I suspected the young rogue didn’t lie after all. 

“Keep your eyes ahead,” I told Max, “no one gets too restless or steps out of the line.”

“Copy.” He muttered and nodded at the men, who took the formation without needing to be told.

As we kept walking, I looked back at Cas. “You called yourself a monster.”

“That’s what I am to most people.” He grumbled and turned his head to look at me, “haven’t you heard the great stories about rogues at all? Nobody approaches one to ask if it’s good or bad, they just assume whatever they want to believe.”

“I used to be that too,” I said and flashed him a smirk. “Everybody had a version. They called me a beast, branded me a problem not a man. There was a time when everyone pointed their fingers at me and claimed they wanted me dead. The truth is life is unpredictable and shit changes. The world doesn’t get any kinder just to make your life easier, all you need is to believe that your story is unfinished and keep living until you find happiness within yourself. Cheesy, yes, but that shit happened to me, so might as well happen to you too.”

Cas watched me like he wanted to believe every word that left me, but had no idea how to convince himself it was worth it. “Easy to say when you were an Alpha all along only to find a fated mate and have the King himself stand behind every decision you make.” He grumbled.

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t start with much. Sure, a title of an Alpha is cool, but it’s not as glamorous when your own people want you dead,” I said and shrugged.

Damon leaned closer to Cas and muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “he’s not lying. I was born and raised near the castle, but even I’ve heard the stories. Trust me, they weren’t bedtime reading.”

Max kept his eyes on the path as he added, “and now we’re following a rogue to catch another rogue because the first one wants a girl he never had a claim on. When you look at it, the world is still ugly, the only change is brought by the decisions you make.”

I swear, I saw an almost smile pull at Cas’s lips before he forced it down. “That’s the most comforting thing anyone’s said to me all day, maybe even in my entire life. Don’t get me wrong, Garrick has tried to encourage me, but when it comes to him, he’s not exactly a man of many words.”

“It wasn’t meant to comfort you,” Max said, keeping some of that disdain clear in his voice.

“I know,” Cas said and actually laughed, “that must be why it worked.”

Max rolled his eyes and kept walking. When I could smell the stench of smoke nearby, I lifted one hand to stop everyone from walking. For a second there, all we heard was only the far-off sound of men trying to stay quiet and failing at it. We had to be close to that camp now. 

Still, just in case, I turned to Cas and whispered, “how close are we?” 

Cas swallowed hard, his eyes daring around us, looking for anything to be able to tell the exact distance between us and a camp where only one man didn’t know we were coming. 

“Close enough that if Garrick kept his word, Bastian is still talking and not running.” Cas finally muttered and nodded in the direction of voices, “it’s a little too loud, which means he has to be there.

“And what if Garrick didn’t keep his word?” Damon suddenly asked, “what if he lied to you too, just to lure us into a trap? One show, two rabbits, yeah?”

“If he lied,” Cas whispered and released a shaky breath, “I’m the idiot who led you into this and I know that I’ll never be able to forgive myself if anything happens. Just in case, stay near where I can warn you if something is off - if nothing else, I know how they fight.”

I looked at him. “You’d better hope you’re not planning to attack.”

“I really do hope so,” he muttered and pressed his lips in a thin line as we kept walking. 

For some reason, I started counting steps - fifteen, thirty, forty and right on forty-one, I could see the camp in the distance between the trees. They had fire going and a group of men sat around it, heads bowed while one paced like a rabid animal - that had to be Bastian.

My eyes were still focused on the view in the distance when Cas stopped so suddenly that Damon nearly walked into him.

“What?” I asked without looking at him. 

Cas didn’t answer, all I heard was his breath catch in his throat, so I looked in the direction where he was looking at and froze myself. 

A large man came through the far edge of the clearing, dragging a body that took me a full second to recognize simply because my mind refused to accept it as the truth. Ryker.

His head down, seemingly unconscious, looking like a prey. The man’s grip on him was tight, but even from afar, I realized one thing that didn’t make sense - he wasn’t using his strength to drag Ryker, rather he was holding him upright even while Ryker looked unconscious. 

Something about this felt… off.

Cas suddenly grabbed my arm, fingers digging into my skin. “That’s… that’s Garrick. He’s got-”

He didn’t finish the thought while I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the view. And then, just as unexpectedly, Ryker’s head tipped just enough and he saw me. That little shit winked, he fucking winked at me. And then, his whole body went slack again, playing unconscious so cleanly that if I hadn’t caught the look, I would’ve bought the show with the rest of them.

“They’re working together,” I muttered under my breath loud enough for my men to hear me. “Holy shit, guys, they’re working together.”

Max’s head snapped toward me, eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

Damon’s eyes found me again as he stalked closer, dropping his voice to a whisper, “are you serious?” 

I didn’t need to repeat myself because once everyone looked more carefully, they all saw it. Garrick kept dragging Ryker toward the fire like he’d brought home the exact prize Bastian had been drooling over his entire life while Ryker, still limp in that grip, told me without words that the prize wasn’t what Bastian was expecting at all.