Dark Wolf (Dark #25)(50)
Author: Christine Feehan

You lived among the Lycans for this last century and even at times before that, Tatijana said. Does this seem like normal behavior to you?

Fen had too many years as a vampire hunter, too many years existing in the endless, emotionless void not to be able to call upon self-discipline when he needed it. Tatijana’s comment struck a chord with him. He had never seen Lycans armed in the way these were, or so many. They did look more of a military force than an organized pack.

He pulled his gaze away from his brother’s burned body and began to assess the Lycans surrounding the haven Skyler had constructed. At first glance, every wolf seemed to be trying to tear down the walls, but after a few moments of study, he realized there were three factions. The first—and they appeared to be the strongest and most numerous—were the aggressive, determined Lycans actively using weapons and instruments to get at the four wounded inside.

He recognized Gunnolf and Convel in the front, driving the others to greater effort. He sent a silent snarl their way. Dimitri had virtually risked his life to save theirs and they had repaid him with betrayal and torture. They would not live out the night if Fen had anything to say about it.

We need to get inside in order to help them, Tatijana reminded. I will shift to my dragon. Vlad and Byron will follow suit. We can drive them back from this fortress that Skyler has created and get inside. Our blood very well may be what turns the tide.

Fen couldn’t argue with her. Dimitri definitely was in starvation mode. He had no idea if Skyler was dead or hanging on by a thread, but his mixed blood and Tatijana’s ancient blood would definitely help.

Give me another minute here. I have to figure out what’s going on.

Something wasn’t right. The second faction appeared to be arguing with the first, trying to stop them, separating themselves from the frenzied activities of the first group. There was a conflict, a definite division between the Lycans. He spotted Zev in the second group, clearly furious, throwing Lycans to the ground as he waded toward Gunnolf and Convel.

The third group of Lycans seemed uncertain. They were the smallest in number, and they didn’t want to join either side, confused about what they should be doing. Where was the decisive leadership always present in a pack? In all the centuries Fen had been around the Lycans, the alpha always called the shots and settled all differences—there was a clear hierarchy. Yet this enormous pack seemed fragmented, a huge schism dividing them.

He had begun to return to the others, ready to call in the dragons to burn the hell out of the Lycans, when he heard a roar that sent chills up his spine and stopped every Lycan in their tracks. Below him, Zev rushed at Gunnolf in his Lycan form, accepting the challenge for leadership.

Lycans fought for supremacy bare-handed. They didn’t kill one another as a rule. It happened in the heat of battle, but very rarely. Gunnolf swung around to meet Zev, lunging forward, but not before Fen saw the signal he gave to Convel.

The Lycans formed a circle around the two combatants, abandoning their efforts to enter the haven harboring the four escapees.

Convel inched his way around behind Zev, his hand on his sword. Fen made his decision. He’d been angry with Zev, certain the Lycan had betrayed them all, yet Zev clearly was trying to stop the assault on those already wounded.

Fen made the decision to trust him. They had fought together in battles before and Fen wasn’t about to let him get cut down from behind. As far as they all knew, Fenris was Lycan.

If you get the chance, if the distraction is enough, the three of you slip inside and help the others. I’m going to remain on the outside and do what I can to figure out what is happening. I still believe there is someone at work, someone behind this trying to start a war between Lycan and Carpathian.

Whoever it was, if such a person existed, was very close to their goal. Fen came striding out of the forest, moving fast, a graceful flow of muscle and sinew, dressed in trousers with a belt holding an array of weapons, his boots with loops inside holding silver stakes as well as two knives, and his long coat concealing even more weapons. His long hair was pulled back severely from his face, flowing down his back, caught at the nape with a cord wrapped around the length to keep it from getting caught on anything as he fought.

He came up behind Convel just as the Lycan drew his sword and made his slash at Zev’s unprotected back. Fen’s sword seemed to come out of nowhere, parrying the blow and following it around in a semicircle, sparks showering down in the night. A collective gasp went through the Lycan ranks at such treachery. Even those Gunnolf led seemed to be shocked.

Zev threw Gunnolf off of him, following up his advantage, leaping onto the Lycan and driving him to the ground with such enormous strength the ground shook. Zev spared one quick glance behind him to see Fen and Convel battling with swords.

Tatijana, Vlad and Byron took advantage of the moment when all the Lycans were occupied watching the four combatants. Energy was flashing through the clearing almost as bright as the two swords clashing. The ring of metal against metal was loud in the stillness.

Gunnolf rolled free and leapt to his feet, gasping for air. He tore his shirt away, showing a mouthful of teeth as he circled Zev. Twice he wiped the blood from his muzzle and licked it from his claw-tipped hands.

“You disobeyed the council,” Zev accused, loud enough for all Lycans to hear. “You went directly against their orders. You lied to us all, and you put the lives of the council members in jeopardy along with those of everyone here.”

Gunnolf charged, rushing Zev. At the last moment, his clawed hands returned to those of a man’s, enabling him to pull a silver dagger from his belt and slice viciously across Zev’s arm. Blood sprayed over the treacherous Lycan. Zev let out a string of curse words, leaping back away from the man who had followed him for so many years—a man who had been his friend. No Lycan ever drew silver on another—not unless they were rogue. Another collective gasp went up in the Lycan circle.

Fen had his hands full keeping Convel from working his way around him in order to take a slice at Zev. He was faster and stronger than the Lycan, but he couldn’t accidently give himself away as a mixed blood. He had to toe a fine line, fighting just well enough to appear nearly evenly matched.

“Clearly you’re supposed to kill your alpha,” Fen said, in a mild, but carrying voice. He wanted the other Lycans to be aware of the true nature of both challengers. “You and Gunnolf obviously planned to kill Zev during your raid on wounded people. Was that the true goal? Getting rid of the man who had the true ear of the council?”