Page 41 of A Warrior's Fate

He silently nodded in respect and greeting to Adrien before his eyes were drawn upwards, taking in what was before them. His nose twitched as he sniffed the air.

Isla’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline, replaying his words and ignoring the perplexity on Adrien’s face at the alpha’s sudden appearance and her lack of surprise towards it. “Stuck?”

“You can smell that, right?” Kai’s unsettled feelings were so strong, she swore they ricocheted down the tether and infected her.

Isla lifted her head and took a whiff of the air. The aroma was different, tangy. Not putrid and rotten, but off-putting, sharp. Too much eventually had tears pricking her eyes.

“It’s been getting stronger,” Adrien said before following their lead and inhaling deeply. He had to clear his throat from a cough. Uneasiness took his own features. “It’s magic.”

“Faulty magic,” Kai clarified before his jaw tightened. “Something’s wrong with the wards.”

Isla’s eyes went wide as she trained them along the welded patterns of the Gate, chosen and directed by the witches of the past who’d assisted the Imperial Alpha of ages ago in its construction.

She didn’t know much about magic—only of its ability to be wielded by witches and fae, and that its only existence on their continent was localized to this very spot where it served as both a blessing and a curse. The heavy latch was what locked a ward of protection, completing a symbol that she’d never quite understood the true meaning and power behind. When opened and rendered incomplete, the protection was broken. The Gate became just a gate. An entryway, an exit.

But that wasn’t happening.

The latch was lifted, the ward void, yet the metal frame wouldn’t budge. Something else had to be at play, another rune misfiring. It wasn’t protecting them from the Wilds, not keeping the horrors in—

“It’s keeping us out.” The realization fell from her lips in a murmur of disbelief.

A howl came again, this time certainly from behind the Wall. Now with time to process, Isla was filled with dread. The Trainee couldn’t howl. Not like that. She listened for his attempt, not perfect but enough. It never came.

Though what did was far, far worse.

The roar was ear-shattering, close. It made everyone, including Isla, jolt and stumble back.

It was a bak…tailing the hunters, approaching the Wall.

Yet another behavior that didn’t match any part of the legend. They were supposed to be repulsed by the borders, by the enchantment.

Isla’s insides turned watery, fingers twitched at her sides, features screwed into a grimace. The fear threatened to overpower and suffocate her. She was back there again, experiencing it again in hasty, relentless waves—alone, terrified, fighting for daily survival, battling for her life, hearing the Trainee’s horrid screams, spending semi-conscious moments just out of death’s grasp.

She kept falling down, down, down into that endless, destructive pit until the warmth of comforting hands fell upon her shoulders. Her body recoiled but then settled as they pressed down firmer. Her forlorn gaze met that of the source—Adrien.

“You’re okay,” he eased, leaning closer, squeezing where he touched her. A reassurance, a grounding. “You’re safe.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, then felt it; a sharp phantom tug and release.

Isla snapped from Adrien and focused forward—only forward—not wanting him to see her look at Kai and not wanting her mate to gaze upon the torment in her eyes.

Kai couldn’t see her vulnerable. Not like this. A victim to her own mind, to memories, to the past. Helpless and weak and pathetic, as she’d always been imbued she was before she’d found her purpose, before she became a warrior. She couldn’t break. Not again. Not anymore. That hell was left behind years ago. That lonely, shattered girl was forgotten.

But that pull came again, harder this time, and reluctantly, she turned.

Kai’s eyes weren’t narrowed in disapproval of the physical contact as she’d been expecting. Instead, as usual, they housed a mix of emotions, nearly indecipherable without her immense focus, but all wrapped in that discernable protective fire. The same one as in the Wilds and on the roof.

He couldn’t touch her, but he wanted her to know that he was there. For her, for what he could be, for what she needed. Their bond, incomplete, but still a promise. A deeper relationship, non-existent, but still, they meant something.

Though she knew very well it could bite her in the ass later, she accepted it. Smiled weakly and reached back, mentally digging for a piece of him that didn’t need to be drawn out by lust. She tried to let him feel that she understood, some gratitude, though she wasn’t sure if it ever landed.

Another howl resounded from the hunter on the other side. Panicked. He was close, so close that Isla could hear his paws padding the mud. And then came a faint iridescent glow—his eyes, the lumerosi snaking through his fur—and next, the sound of a slam against metal. There was a thud as something fell off him, and he whimpered, pawing at the Gate.

“It’s both of them!” someone nearby the iron shouted.

Goddess, the Trainee was alive!

The roar of the bak rumbled again, and horrified gasps descended upon the crowd. Commotion built. Some turned away from the Gate, retreating, anticipating a slaughter.

---