Chapter 41
Marian followed Nikal meekly, not saying a word.
Once Byron had Gravan on a stretcher, Nikal had stared at her – black eyes in her father’s face.
He had said nothing.
Where her father treated Marian with a soft touch, Nikal did not.
After a moment of looking Marian over, while Dinka cowered in the corner of her mind.
Nikal had shifted into wolf form and ran to the edge of the pack grounds.
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Neither Gravan nor her father ever talked about what had happened to them that night.
But Marian never stayed out again.
Until she ran away on New Year’s Moon.
Goddess! What did Dax do to my father?! She wailed in her heart.
She ran, full speed, to her dorm.
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The Bloodrayne pack was also celebrating Christmas.
Their Alpha, Alpha Tobias, was leading the festivities at his hall with great pomp and pageantry.
Food was being served, wolves were dancing, laughing, and, all the omegas – male and female alike, mated or not – were servicing any wolf who wanted them.
It was a hedonistic party. Anyone who could not handle the debauchery had already left.
She-wolves and fathers who cared had sent their pups away so that they could fully indulge in the festivities.
Prisoners had been brought out from cells and dungeons in celebration.
They were made to serve food and drink while bound in chains of various sorts.
For additional entertainment, fights were happening in two sections of the hall. Three prisoners had already died in these events, and it was not yet two p.m.
Their bodies had been dragged out of the grand hall and placed beside a large pyre that was already being built to take care of the dead.
As per tradition, once the moon reached its peak at midnight, the pyre would be lit, and all who died would be sent to the goddess.
A runner, a pack messenger, made his way swiftly across the great hall to where the Alpha and his brood were seated.
They sat behind a long, wide table that creaked under the weight of the food and drink splayed across it.
The man, dressed in the runners' garb of fitted dark brown leather pants, a thick black cotton shirt, a matching dark brown vest, with solid dark brown steel-toe hiking boots.
He moved swiftly round the table while the Alpha laughed with those who had approached the table to drink with him.
“Alpha, we have news from the Lightmoon pack,” the messenger stated, leaning down to speak into his Alpha’s ear.
“Speak,” Alpha Tobias commanded, taking a deep swig from his large beer mug as his light blue eyes scanned the great hall.
The Bloodrayne pack’s hall was a great one indeed. It was as large as a football pitch.
The space could be cordoned off to serve different purposes, and for the Christmas celebration, all partitions had been taken down, allowing for a spectacular indoor festival.
“The fallen princess has returned. She attacked an unknown wolf. Our informants say it is the child of the current Alpha, Alpha Dax. But we are yet to confirm this,” the runner continued formally, barely out of breath from his sprint.
“Dax has a son,” Tobias spat. “I have seen him many times. Who is this unknown wolf?” he snarled, turning to gaze at the runner.
The pack members who had been drinking with the Alpha backed away, leaving their leader with the messenger.
“We should know by nightfall, Alpha,” the man replied steadily, his eyes hooded as he kept his head bowed, not gazing upon his Alpha – the expected show of respect for all those below warrior rank at the Bloodrayne pack.
Tobias waved the messenger away. The man bowed and hurried off.
Tobias sat tall in his grand chair made of elder wood, his brow furrowed as his mind wandered in the midst of the revelry before him.
“What’s on your mind, Father? The sweet child of Alpha Dax, or the wolf himself?” a smooth, mischievous voice called, interrupting Tobias’ thoughts.
Tobias turned to his right and stared across his three mates to the owner of the voice.
“Please!” he snorted, waving a hand dismissively and turning away.
“What then? Why so down?” the speaker continued fawningly.
Tobias stared at his son for a beat before replying.
“How long has it been since we have tried to bring that pack down?” he asked casually.
“Three years by my count, Father,” the son replied flippantly.
“Then why is it taking so long? Why is Dax not at my feet?” Tobias bellowed, slamming his half-empty beer mug on the long, solid table.
The others at the table did not bat an eye nor interfere with this conversation or display by their Alpha.
No one in Bloodrayne pack was unaware of the long chase that had been going on between them and the Lightmoon pack.
From the day Tobias had first met Dax, the chase had begun.
“So it IS the wolf himself!” Tobias’ son chuckled knowingly, sarcastically.
Everyone was also fully aware of this.
“He IS a specimen,” the son commented lightly.
Tobias’ eyes shot to his son.
“Misha,” there was a definite warning in Tobias’ voice.
“Yes, yes. Keep the Alpha. I’ll take the girl,” Misha replied lazily to his father, turning to pull an omega onto his lap.
The girl shivered as he traced her arm with a slender finger, his light eyes roaming over her face.
Tobias’ jaw clenched.
Misha was not facing his father, but he called out laughingly, “His Luna, Father. I’ll take his Luna,” he clarified, turning a mischievous smile to his father.
Father and son smirked at each other, knowing full well what the other had in mind.
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The leader of Bloodrayne pack, Tobias Drakin, and his son, Misha Drakin, were two of a kind.
Both dark-haired and blue-eyed, standing at six feet five inches, with identical tattoos on their arms and necks – as with every adult male in the Bloodrayne pack – they could easily be mistaken for brothers.
The main difference was that while the father was built like a solid rock with a barrel chest, thick torso, and thighs, the son was toned, well-defined, with a much leaner frame than his father’s.
It was sometimes whispered that Misha had been carved out of Tobias, which was why he looked like a slender version of his father.
Most wolves of Bloodrayne were large. If they were not born so, they ate their way to their bulk.
Being slender was regarded as being weaker.
They enjoyed making their enemies and rivals quake with their size and intimidating body markings.
Most men of Bloodrayne walked around shirtless or in sleeveless attire, even in winter, showing off their tattoos.
From chest to arms, backs to necks, the patterns and shapes were varied, but they were all done in black.
The she-wolves also bore markings, but mostly only on their upper arms. And theirs could be of any color.
In the Denver area, the Bloodrayne pack was a menace and a scourge.
It was the eradication of this group that Corien had been reviewing in Dax’s office when Marian had returned the day before.