Rogues and Scouts
Chapter 87
Aria trudged forward with Kael at her side, half-carrying Lucien between them. Every step jarred his ribs, pulling a hiss through his teeth. His arm hung limply over her shoulders, his weight heavier than she wanted to admit.
By the time the sun lifted above the horizon, Aria’s legs ached from the hours of walking. Her shoulders burned from supporting Lucien’s weight, his body slumped heavier and heavier against her with every mile. Kael didn't seem to suffer the same fate, scanning the trees with the patience of a soldier who trusted nothing.
They finally stopped in a shallow clearing where the earth dipped into a hollow, sheltered on three sides by jutting stone. Kael tossed down his pack and motioned sharply. “We'll rest here. Fire’s too risky though, so we’ll have to huddle to preserve body heat.”
“Set me down,” Lucien rasped at last, his voice scratched raw. Aria eased Lucien down onto a mossy patch, her heart aching at the sight of him. His skin was damp with sweat, his breathing ragged. She brushed hair from his forehead, whispering, “Just a little further. We'll find a healer soon and then you’ll be okay.”
Lucien managed a faint smirk. “You’ve been saying that since last night.”
Kael crouched in front of him, his eyes narrowing as he studied the burned flesh still marking his body. “The infection is spreading.” He handed Lucien a waterskin to drink, and turned to glance at Aria, “But he'll live if he paces himself.”
Lucien shot him a glare, and spoke, though his voice came out hoarse. “Appreciate the encouragement. Are you a healer now?”
Kael's jaw tightened. “No. But I’ve watched enough men rot—” He suddenly went still, his head tilting towards the trees.
Aria frowned. “What is it?”
“Not what,” Kael murmured, “Who.” He said and pointed toward the slope of the hill, where damp soil held faint imprints, clear pawprints, leading in a loose half-circle around the hollow.
Aria’s chest tightened. “Who do you think it is?”
“Not a pack,” Kael said, crouching to study the tracks. He traced the edges with two fingers. “Too light. A lone rogue maybe, could also be a scout.”
Lucien shifted against the stone, his expression grave. “So whoever they are, they know exactly where we are.”
“I would say so….” Lucien trailed off, sliding his sword out of the sheath, as a shape emerged from the trees. It wasn’t a human, it was a wolf and not one in a pack from the looks of it. His eyes, which seemed a little crazed, were fixed on Aria.
He stopped several paces away, and raised his hands slowly, no claws glinted, he was coming unarmed. “I didn’t come to fight,” he said, his voice carrying the rough timbre of someone who hadn't spoken in a long while.
Aria tensed, her claws flexing. Kael shifted to place himself between her and the newcomer, blade angled. “Then why are you here?”
The rogue’s gaze never wavered from Aria. “They call you Alpha of Alphas.”
Lucien let out a low, humorless laugh. “A nickname! Already? It hasn’t even been a full night.”
He hesitated at that, but pushed on. “Words travel faster than feet. Faster than water. Every den, every campfire, every rogue hole knows your name by now. Half of them fear you. The other half—” His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “They want to follow you.”
Aria’s breath caught. “Follow me?”
He shook his head, “What you did a few nights ago…it meant something to rogues like me. We’ve lived our lives on the outside, crushed under the hierarchy of packs, spat on by Alphas. You killed one. You made it possible to believe it can be done again.”
Kael’s lip curled. “Or you’re just spitting pretty words so you get close enough to sink your teeth in her throat.”
The rogue shook his head slowly. “If I wanted her dead, I wouldn’t have come alone.” His gaze returned to Aria, sharp and steady. “I wouldn't tell you about the scouts that have been on your trail.”
Aria swallowed. “What scouts?”
The rogue stepped closer, ignoring Kael’s blade angled toward his throat. “I could help you. I've proven myself very useful in the past.”
Lucien spoke, his voice low but firm. “Send him away, Aria. The more wolves know where we are, the faster Damien will find us. He's probably the one who led the so-called scouts our way.”
Kael countered immediately. “No wait!” He cocked his head, assessing the rogue, “Let’s keep him. If others are whispering, we need ears in those camps. Someone to tell us what’s coming before it rips our throats out.”
Both men stared at her, waiting for her judgment. Aria’s claws dug into her palms. The Rune pulsed hotter, as if it too demanded she choose. The rogue tilted his head, watching her closely. “Well, princess? What's it going to be?”
That word cut deeper than he knew. Aria’s pulse thundered. She wanted to scream that she hadn’t asked for this, and hadn't wanted to carry the weight of titles or thrones. But the howls last night hadn’t asked what she wanted either.
Her voice came out quieter than she intended, but steady. “If you stay, you obey. You don’t test me, you don’t betray me, and you don’t call me princess again.”
The rogue smiled faintly, lowering his head in a gesture that didn’t quite signify submission, but rather acknowledgment. “As you say… Alpha.”
Aria’s stomach twisted. But she didn’t correct him.
Kael’s grip tightened on his blade, Lucien’s amber eyes narrowed, and the forest suddenly seemed much more quiet than before.
She clenched her fists and turned to Kael, “Why do you think someone sent scouts after us?”
“They're watching,” He glanced at the treeline, “Measuring our actions.”
Lucien coughed, grimacing as pain rippled through his chest. “So we sit here waiting for them to decide whether to kill us or not?”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “No. We move. Careful, slow. Make it hard to follow.”
Aria shook her head, “That won't work, if they’re scouts, they’ll outpace us anyway. No matter how careful we move.” She turned to the rogue, “What's your name?”
“Jake”
“Your first test will be to drag those bumbling fools out of the bushes.”