Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(54)



Lance’s voice snagged Cal as he walked past the kitchen on his way to the west wing.

“No luck tonight, man?” Lance’s normally easy drawl was replaced by something edgier. Like he, too, was angry for some reason.

Cal walked into the kitchen to find Lance leaning against the counter drinking a beer and eyeing him expectantly.

“She locked me out.”

Lance pulled the bottle from his lips and rested it on his thigh. “Yeah well, you can’t blame her, can you?”

Cal’s anger flared once again. “What’s it to you? It’s not like she’s your Huntress.”

Lance shrugged and took another swig, wiping his sleeve across his mouth when he lowered it again. “No, she’s yours. But I’m the one training her, aren’t I?”

Cal snorted. “So? That doesn’t mean you have a right to say anything to me. I’m going through hell, man. Don’t you realize how much this sucks?”

Lance rolled his shoulder back and pushed himself from the counter. “It’s your choice, Cal. Always has been.”

Cal pointed at Lance, his temper rising dangerously, all his pent-up jealousy and frustration at the brink of boiling over. “I don’t have a choice. Kelly says that Morgan will betray the Order.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “She’ll betray the Order? Or she’ll betray you?”

“There’s no difference,” Cal said as he folded his arms. “Betrayal is betrayal and Kelly is one hundred percent sure.”

Lance nodded, seeming to roll his thoughts around, glancing at his feet before taking one last drink from his beer bottle and then putting it on the counter.

He moved to the door. “I just don’t think it’s right, man. I know you think it is, but there’s no f*cking way I would ever kill my Huntress. I don’t care what she’s destined to do. Maybe your sense of duty is getting in the way of what really matters this time. Maybe you should stop being a yes man for once and follow your heart.”

Lance’s words struck Cal like a lead fist. Any possibility of getting the last word in fled as he left the kitchen. It was wrong to kill a Huntress—deep down Cal understood that, but he also understood that to allow Lazarus the chance to breed with Morgan to produce an heir would be disastrous. A beast of that union could destroy vast amounts of the population and it would also eliminate any possibility of them conquering the pack, no matter how many Huntresses they found. That would be unacceptable, and the fact that they didn’t even know how Morgan would betray the Order made it even worse. If Lazarus succeeded in claiming her, Cal would fail as a Hunter and as a protector. The shitty part was that they didn’t know if she was truly his bride. Lazarus seemed to be sure of it, but until that night, they wouldn’t know for certain. She needed to confront him in battle and see if she was susceptible to his seduction as only his bride would be, then they would know.

Yeah, and then it might be too late.

Cal shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head, swimming, drowning in all of the confusing thoughts circling there. He needed to speak with his father. He needed to find out what it had taken for him to kill his Huntress, Cal’s mother. How had he managed to act on such a vow? There had to be some way to prepare himself because as it stood, Cal already doubted the wisdom of the Order. His desire to rebel grew with every moment that Morgan was not in his arms.

Kelly didn’t actually say Morgan would die, and yet if she betrayed the Order in the way they expected, she would have to die. So Cal needed to find out from his father how one went about killing one’s other half without going mad.





Chapter Twenty-Six





The Scholars


Cal popped open one of the hidden hatch doorways located in the library that would take him to the underground world of the scholars. He didn’t like going down there—none of the Hunters did. Why would they? It was a reminder of what could happen if one of them lost their Huntress. The rest of their mortal years would be spent aging and eventually dying, rarely venturing topside, focusing solely on decoding the texts. A shudder ran through him at the thought. Some Hunters actually placed the scholars on a pedestal—an honored rank to be achieved at a tremendous cost. The scholars called the shots, their time spent analyzing the texts gave them a position of power over the Hunters. Up until Kelly came, they were the only ones who could find the Huntresses, so the Hunters had deferred to their expertise in many of their decisions.

Of the twelve remaining scholars all had lost their Huntresses before they had actually bonded, so they didn’t know the pain of finding and then losing their soul mate. All except one, that was. Luther, Cal’s father. He was the only one who’d had a Huntress, had bonded with her, had a child with her, and then had lived to tell about her death at his hand.

Cal moved down the dimly lit walkway that would take him into the scholar’s den and living quarters. It wasn’t a dreary place, although whenever he came down here, his mood always shifted to a melancholy state. The atmosphere of the interior was updated to suit the needs of the time. Satellite TV, a games room, training facility, all of the amenities scholars of any age would enjoy. But even with all of that, the place just reeked of loneliness and longing. He shuddered again at the thought of soon joining their ranks, doomed to spend the rest of his life shut up in the basement of the only home he’d ever known, cut off from the world, and all by his own doing.

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