Page 7 of Cursed
After gathering his pack, Ryland walks toward the imposing castle doors with Garek and his Commander of the Guard, his younger brother, Zayne Drakemoor. “I want the two of you with me tomorrow when we interrogate the Rogue. Zayne and I are too cold, tired, and hungry to bother with it tonight.”
The two men nod at the order, and the heavy doors rumble as they push inside.
Ryland practically groans with relief from the warmth washing over him as he steps inside. His stomach rumbles from the smell of meat cooking somewhere in the castle.
Zayne actually does groan. “Finally! I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be warm.”
The two men shrug out of their wet and matted furs, passing them to two Omegas who meet them at the doors. The Omegas offer them warm towels to dry off and help to carry some of their weapons and bags. When both men decline any further assistance, the Omegas retreat.
After stomping the snow off their boots, Zayne and Ryland move with a purpose, each heading toward their suite of rooms. Garek walks with them to receive a quick update on their mission before the men retire for the evening.
Thethree enormous leaders of the Pack stride through the castle’s Main Hall, and the pack members quickly move out of their way. Some of them bow in submission to their sheer dominant presence, and others lower their eyes and scurry away, hoping not to be noticed.
Along the way, Garek asks, “How many Rogues did you kill?”
The three males climb the expansive staircase that dominates the large, open, lower level of the castle. “Roughly thirty. Oddly, it almost looked like they were following orders,” Ryland replies.
Garek arches a brow, confused. “So, they aren’t as mindless as we were led to believe? Interesting.”
“Exactly my thoughts. After we noticed their coordinated fighting style, we captured one for questioning. We’ve been in the dark for too long when it comes to this Rogue plague. We need some answers.”
At the top of the grand staircase, the trio turns left toward the castle's North Tower, where the royal chambers and guest rooms are located.
The Beta continues his curt inquiry. “Did we lose anyone?”
Zayne answers this time. “No, everyone survived, and no one was bitten. There were only a few minor injuries, which have already healed.”
Garek turns his head, briefly raising his eyes up to hisAlpha. “And how are you? You’ve been gone a week, out in the cold and wet weather.”
Climbing another set of stairs, far more plain compared to the Main Hall’s grand staircase, Ryland slows his pace, turning to look at Garek. He hears his wolf’s thick baritone voice rumble through his mind. “What does he think? We can’t handle a little pain?”
Ryland growls at his Beta, narrowing his eyes. “I’m fine. The wet and the cold suck, but I’m fine. Nothing a warm shower and a good meal won’t fix.”
Unfortunately for him, the cold causes the incessantly weeping scars to itch and burn. Since the scars cover most of his body, the burning sensation is terribly uncomfortable, but Ryland has grown used to it after so many years. He is really looking forward to that warm shower and his bed, though.
The men walk down another hallway, then up another set of stairs. When they reach the top, Zayne turns left toward his private quarters. “See you guys tomorrow. I’ll be busy making my Mate scream my name all night long,” he says with a big grin and trots off down the hall.
The other two men smile and wave him off. Ryland envies his brother in moments like these, but he is grateful Zayne has found a good Mate. Zayne, a fierce warrior on the battlefield, is carefree and happy the rest of the time. With his short, tousled black hair, he constantly looks like asurfer who just rolled out of bed. Ryland can’t remember the last time he was that happy.
Garek and Ryland continue toward the Prince’s rooms, turning right, away from Zayne’s rooms, following the hall to a final set of stairs.
It’s Ryland’s turn to question his Beta. “Any news to report about the Pack while I was gone?”
Garek hesitates half a second too long, and Ryland comes to a halt, looming over him.
“Spit it out, Garek!” he yells. “I am in no mood to deal with any petty Pack squabbles right now.”
Beta Garek, unfazed by his Alpha’s quick temper, doesn’t flinch. “We have a visitor...or maybe a spy. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of her, but she’s officially seeking refuge here.”
Ryland stares at Garek with a raised eyebrow. He hears his wolf, Bade, again echoing in his mind. “Either she’s extremely brave, or she has no idea who we are.”
Waving a hand in Garek’s direction, Ryland turns toward that much-needed shower. “Why are you bothering me with this? Handle it.”
Garek grabs his arm, stopping him again. “The she-wolf knows who you are because I could hear her heart hammering a mile a minute when I told her she had crossed into the Blood Moon Packlands. She won’t talk to me. She has asked for an audience with the Cursed Prince.”
His interest now piqued, Ryland turns to look at Garek. “No one ever willingly requests a meeting with me.”
“I know. Her wolf showed up two days ago, running from a Rogue, which we quickly dispatched. She shifted into an unbelievably filthy female. She had nothing on her, no clothes, no weapons. According to the Enforcers, the she-wolf fell to the frozen ground on her knees, frantically begging them not to kill her. They promptly knocked her out and put her in the dungeon.”
