Page 21 of Fawn

My tolerance of the stag shifters does not extend to the Master Stag’s son, Seven. Which is a stupid fucking name if you ask me. Shouldn’t it be something more… antlery?

“Our main forces will attack from the east,” Seven says.

He is eighteen and barely a man… stag… whatever.

I am ten years older than him and have been the Blackrock enforcer for all those years. While I can admit to having no particular mastery of battle strategy, I cannot see how a damn pup—or whatever the fuck deers call their young males—can be making these decisions for all.

“That’s a good idea,” Tobias, my pack leader says.

“It is?” I scowl at the map.

“Do not flex your limited intellect over this complex matter, enforcer,” Seven says. “I am Seven. It is a given that this is my forte.”

“The actual fuck,” I growl.

Tobias’ lips twitch. “Do not let the stag bait you, Jude. And heisSeven.”

“Seven?” I grunt. I consider my intellect to be perfectly adequate for what I am. No one has questioned it before today. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Yes, Seven,” Cranston, Seven’s father, and the Master Stag of all the stag herds (a much more stag-like name, in my opinion) says like that adds enlightenment.

“Why are we attacking from the east?” I ask, parking the ‘Seven’ question for now. “It does not seem like a good idea to me at all. Won’t they move to flank us from the south?”

“I am likewise confused,” Travis says. He is the pack leader of the Oberian Pack. Nobody likes him well, and that he sides with me makes my wolf growl under my skin.

Seven looks down his nose at me. He is a big bastard, a good half a foot taller than me, although of a leaner build. I see shimmering at his hairline where his antlers are threatening to sprout.

He arches one golden brow. “See here?” He stabs one imperious finger toward the map. “The terrain is steep, prone to brambles and briar. Attacking from that direction would hamper their charge. While their fur is thick, the brambles are deep and dense. They know the centaurs hold the north—there is bad blood between them, which will make them cautious. The bears will come for us, the stags, thinking to cow us with a charge.”

“It is a fine plan,” his father says.

“I agree,” Tobias says.

“Fine. It is a reasonable plan,” I admit, annoyed that no one had explained about the terrain before now. “Also, I was not aware of the fucking brambles.” I feel like I’ve been set up. Like he was withholding that information purely to make me ask the stupid question.

“You are a wolf,” Seven says, but in a magnanimous way that is very confusing. “The lands are nearest to ours. It is acceptable for you not to know.”

“The fuck?!” Now the fucker is patronizing me, somehow managing to make a concession sound like an insult, all in the space of a few words.

My wolf curls his lips back and snarls. As an enforcer, I am sometimes called to put both pups and mature shifters in their place…

I catch Tobais’ smirk. “As we have pointed out, he is Seven.”

“The seventh coming of Cernunnos,” his father, the Master Stag, says, a note of pride in his voice.

“Huh?” I sound like a fucking idiot for sure now, but I cannot help myself. Tobias is definitely amused. I wish he had clued meabout the deer shifters being fucking delusional. “As in the god of nature?”

I sound skeptical, which is probably not advisable when we are on the eve of a battle—better that I humor their crazy.

“That would be ridiculous,” Seven says, arching one brow. “Clearly, I am not a god.”

“Well, alright then.” That has made everything crystal fucking clear.

“The lineage can skip many generations,” Cranston explains. “Seven is not a god, merely the bearer of our ancestor’s battle knowledge all the way back to Cernunnos, our forefather. Their experiences are his experiences.” He clears his throat. “Although, in this case, most young deer in our herd would know about bears and their aversion to brambles.”

We battle the bears and return to the camp victorious. But it is a bitter victory for my pack leader, Tobias falls, as do many wolves, stags, and centaurs.

As we drink and send out fallen to the Goddess and find myself in the company of the seventh coming of Cernunnos, I decide that he is not all that bad. That I might even like him.

---