Page 22

Pack

R yder breathed. He could feel Weryn shifting inside of him as his own emotions were rising.

He felt calm around Demos and, now, Siban, who walked swiftly and silently ahead of them down the stairs towards the inner courtyard.

But he wasn’t sure how he would handle the rest of the Vampires of his bloodline.

My Bloodline. By the gods, Ryder thought as the weight of that role fell upon him.

As he’d told Siban, he’d pictured himself as stepping into a main leadership role using consensus and bringing everyone to the table.

He’d thought to--foolishly, insanely--convince Lawson that he would bring the ancient ways of the pack with him as a leader.

But was that how he had been as Weryn? Was that his leadership style at all?

Or was it simply crushing the weak and silencing the displeased?

They’re weak, Weryn muttered.

They’re not. But, let’s say they are, then isn’t it our job to protect them? Ryder pushed back.

Weryn was silent. Whether he agreed with Ryder was unclear.

If we want them to feel a sense of pack--of loyalty--we must show them how , Ryder insisted.

Starting fresh would be better, Weryn answered him. With Ashyr…

Ryder breathed in sharply at that. Dani is going to turn him. Or another of his Bloodline. We can’t--

Ashyr… Ashyr… Ashyr… Weryn’s voice drifted off.

Ryder’s heart twisted in his chest. When he thought of Grayson being turned, even by someone like Dani, who would play a mother or big sister role to Grayson, his stomach churned with acid. He realized his hands had fisted so tightly that his fingernails had left half-moon indents in his palms.

One Immortal turning another? Ryder thought. It would be allowed for so many reasons, not the least of which Grayson might lose his own Bloodline’s ability, though rumor has it that Balthazar was turned by a Kaly slice and has some of their abilities.

“You all right, brother?” Demos asked, reading the unhappiness on his face.

“Not sure,” Ryder answered honestly.

Grayson is Ashyr. Ashyr is reborn. Ashyr is back. Safe. Sound. Near. That should be enough.

But it wasn’t.

He wiped damp palms over the tops of his thighs.

They had reached the first floor and there was a series of archways ahead of them that led out into the fragrant courtyard.

A bonfire was lit and the tinkle of the streams that ran throughout the garden reached Ryder’s ears.

The Vampires were all sitting on pillows and furs, or leaning casually against the pillars and trees, but that was a feigned casualness.

The moment that Ryder had come into view all eyes had turned to him.

Over a hundred pairs of silver eyes fixed upon him and then away.

It was like being in the spotlight for a show.

“You know all of these Vampires. They know you,” Demos reminded him.

No, they do not. They do not know me at all , Weryn growled.

I don’t know me either, Ryder added.

“I need them to trust me. I have to find a way to convince them that they should,” Ryder admitted.

“I’ll go out first, shall I?” Siban asked. “Show them that you’re here in peace?”

Ryder just gave a nod, words escaping him. Really, he had no idea what to say to Siban or anyone. He didn’t know how to make this all right.

Siban strode out into the courtyard ahead of them and stood in front of the crowd. They regarded everyone for long, quiet moments and, even though the Vampires had been nearly silent before, a deeper silence fell over them then.

“Weryn will address you now. Questions and comments should wait,” Siban said.

They then turned to face him and bowed before, silently and gracefully, taking their place, standing against one of the large silver-barked trees, arms and ankles crossed.

Show has started. Let me look upon my subjects. Who do they see when they look back at me? Ryder, the Vampire they know? Or Weryn, the Immortal they both worship and fear?

Demos followed after Ryder as he walked on numb legs into the courtyard and stopped just where Siban had been.

Ryder drew in deep draughts of the night air.

The air in the Ever Dark had never been tainted with chemicals or anything more toxic than woodsmoke.

The flowers that bloomed there had surprisingly rich scents, some spicy like cologne, and others sweet like long-remembered candy.

Ryder waited to even look at the Vampires until Demos took his place.

His blood brother stood at his left side, slightly behind him, massive arms crossed over an equally massive chest, and face expressionless.

Demos would follow his lead. He wondered if his Blood Brother had any more idea about what he was going to do or say than Ryder did.

He wished he was with Grayson interrogating that Horys Vampire.

That would have been so much better and so much easier.

I must take control of my own Bloodline so that I can be there for Grayson when he realizes who he really is, Ryder realized. And when he remembers what we were. And when he figures out that I started the War to avenge him…

Ashyr… Ashyr… Ashyr, Weryn murmured.

Ryder slowly turned to face his Vampires. He’d just been here the other night showing off his bear form. Now, he was here as their leader.

Not as a leader. As their conqueror , Ryder reminded himself.

These people weren’t his chosen ones, other than Siban and Demos.

They were made after he had been gone. A memory.

A myth. Much like Daemon. Even Harlan, second oldest to Siban, was a stranger to him as Weryn.

Speaking of Harlan, he was seated on his boulder and Irine was in her usual attitude of constant movement, though she did freeze when he glanced at her.

These two had been called by Lawson to judge him.

They’d stood by while Lawson had pronounced his doom.

Not my doom. Lawson’s. It was a suicide, Ryder realized.

How could he trust these people? That was really the crux of it. It wasn’t their weakness in physical strength, but in moral strength. The strength of their loyalty. The strength of their character. Who were these people?

Harlan gave him a faint tip of his head while Irine’s lips lifted in a parody of a smile. Her fingers began to tap against her thighs as the anxiety became too much to contain. Was she wrong to be afraid?

No.

But they were not the ones he needed to see. Their loyalty to Lawson had been paper thin. They were likely relieved he was gone. But that didn’t mean that they were loyal to Weryn, or would ever be. He needed to see one person who had been loyal to Lawson and know what she thought.

“Natasha,” Ryder said her name softly.

A group of Vampires shuffled to the side, like a curtain being pulled to expose the stage. And there was Natasha.

There you are.

She sat on the same pillow she had with Lawson just the other night.

Her legs were tucked underneath her. She did not look at him.

There was an empty pillow where Lawson had been lounging not twelve hours ago.

The unofficial king and queen of the Weryn.

The queen mourning her lost king. Her position and that empty pillow were to a mute defiance of the conqueror’s rule.

Will you let this stand? Weryn snarled. Such defiance? Such disrespect? Maybe you are the weak one!

Siban uncurled themselves from their lax position, seeing the disrespect too, and their silver eyes narrowed. Demos’ nostrils flared and he took a menacing step towards Natasha. But Ryder held up a hand to stop him and gestured for Siban to stay where they were as well.

If we attack her for this act then all will know that we fear defiance. That our position as conqueror is so brittle that one mourning member can destroy us, Ryder answered, even as he felt anger yet understanding fill him. We must begin now how we mean to go on. I will not be another tyrant.

You are a fool, Weryn muttered.

She speaks for more than herself. She says what others won’t. I would hear it and answer it, Ryder pointed out. We need to convince them we are the leader they want. Not just smash our paw down and roar.

You sound like Ashyr , Weryn’s tone was fond and sad. Strategic. Thoughtful. That is why Ashyr was taken first. Too dangerous...

I will take that as the compliment it is meant to be, Ryder said.

If Ashyr had acted upon his suspicions then he might not have died, Weryn’s voice whispered through his head.

Ryder frowned at this. But it didn’t change his budding strategy. It was the right one. If he had to change to paw-smashing, he would. But not out of the gate. He needed people to speak truth to power so that he could defuse that truth. Trust had to begin somewhere.

“Natasha,” Ryder said her name softly again, but it carried. “What are you doing?”

“Remembering.” Tears were running down her cheeks and she trembled. “We were so happy the other night when you showed us your new form. Don’t you remember, Ryder?”

Demos’ upper lip writhed back to show his fangs. “Is that what you remember, Natasha? Happiness? Because I remember Lawson’s jealousy . He barely looked at Ryder when he shifted and he turned it all back about himself.”

She jerked at that. “It is hard when a fledgling outshines you.”

“It should be an honor ,” Siban disagreed. “Lawson knew how gifted Ryder was, even if he would not let himself believe he was Weryn reborn. He should have treasured Ryder. But he did not.”

Natasha lifted her head. “Lawson was flawed , but he was not--”

“A monster?” Demos finished for her. “Not a monster that talks about eating his own Childe, right? Not a monster that speaks of raping and torturing a human that Childe cares for, right? Not a monster that--”

“He was not always that way!” Natasha insisted.

“Maybe not to you!” Demos laughed mirthlessly. “But whatever he used to be, tonight he showed what he really was! I don’t mourn him! And none of you should either!”