The Filthy Claws: Out for Blood (Exiled Book 2) Read online

  The pack is still gathered around the campfire, their voices carrying on the wind. Ryu runs a hand through his hair, which falls like silk down his back.

  They stare at each other. Ryu feels naked under Micah’s penetrating gaze, like he can’t hide no matter what. He hates that Micah can see it—the conflict, the desire to be more, to have more. However, it nearly killed him the last time. He can’t allow Micah to hurt him ever again.

  Micah clenches his jaw. “Fine.”

  “Byakuren,” Trmon calls, beckoning Micah back over.

  Micah gives Ryu one last look, then walks away. Ryu releases a sigh and licks his blistering lips. He knows he looks utterly debauched. He needs a moment to calm down before he can head back. It’s too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it.

  Ryu can’t lose himself to this delusion. He can’t blur the lines of fact and fiction. Because sooner or later, the man in the desert realizes that the mirage is just that: a mirage. And the spring water he's been drinking is sand.

  Chapter 3

  Upon the forest floor lie fallen trees, long forgotten, torn apart from brewing storms. The seasons have not been kind to them. Ryu takes it all in: the hulking trees, the rich brown earthen hues, needles scattered on the ground. Pine scent tickles his nose. He catches his breath, still caught up in the phantom kisses and blazing touches. Sighing, Ryu leans heavily against the bark trees, then rubs his hand down the trunk.

  It comes back wet and sticky. Ryu frowns as he rubs the strange residue between his fingers. Distra root. What’s it doing out here? This root is primarily used for sending out signals, its strong scent almost like a beacon to other wolves. Or Lycans. Someone from the camp is leaving a trail for Randolph to find.

  Shit, he should get back. He strides over to the campfire and joins the other men, who are engaged in a heated discussion.

  “That won’t work.” Deryn derides. His usually bright blue eyes are ringed black with fatigue. The past few weeks have worn them all thin. After traveling to the Yamabushi they thought lived in Mount Horai and fighting against the Lycans, they’ve barely had a chance to rest. “The Filthy Claws will never allow us to use their southern borders. It’s against the treaty. Not to mention it would inflame the Blackfang Hounds.”

  “What choice do we have?” Shamus says. “The Midnight Stalkers don’t have the resources to support the Impure Canines, the Thunder Hunters, and the Silvercrest Howlers.”

  “The only way out is the way through,” Caine chimes in. “We must draw Randolph out of the Silvercrest Clan and meet him on a plain field. That would even the odds and not exert our resources.”

  “If we draw them out, it’ll leave us open to the Bloodhound Prince,” Trmon says. “If he can conjure thousands of those Lycans, then our armies will be decimated in a matter of minutes.”

  “That’s why I said it won’t work,” Deryn snaps. “We have to kill them quietly. A few good men are worth a hundred. Once we get the support from the Filthy Claws, we attack Randolph and beat him at the Silvercrest Howlers’ clan. I know Randolph. He isn’t stupid enough to meet us head-on, especially with another Bloodhound on our hands.”

  “That sounds dirty and underhanded.” Caine snorts. “That’s not the way of war. We must meet him head-on. Those who die will die with honor.”

  “And risk the lives of thousands of wolves? If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I’d fart.”

  “Deryn,” Trmon admonishes. “We must keep an open mind.”

  “The Impure Canines will not fight dirty,” Fermin says. “We will fight with honor. We meet our enemies in a direct fight.”

  “Please,” Rohan scoffs. “Fight with honor? Didn’t you guys start an entire war with each other over a fucking dog?”

  “That was centuries ago,” Fermin snarls.

  Ryu walks away.

  They usually end the night like this—clawing at each other's throat. Ryu is so tired of it all. After they left the Outlands, he thought things would be different. That the impending war and Lycans disease would be enough to make them all smarten up. Turns out all that was fruitless.

  They’re never going to change.

  He trudges to his tent, fatigue settling deep in his bones. The minute he lies down, his eyes prickle with tears. Amaya. He’s failed her. Utterly and completely failed her. There is no way they’ll make it back to the Silvercrest Howlers now. Certainly not in time to cure her and bring Randolph to his knees. He knows that the day he left, he sealed her fate. Ryu bites his lip, allowing the tears to spill over.

  Tonight, he’ll grieve for her.

  And say goodbye.

  -

  Depression lingers around him.

  Nobody notices. Nobody cares. As long as he can fight and hack his way through like the rest of them, things carry on. However, his heart aches in ways he can never explain. Amaya. He felt a shift last night, cosmic and eternal. She’s gone. Left this world and transitioned into the next. He never thought he could care for someone so deeply, to the point he can feel their spirit leaving their body. Ryu is sick with despair. It spreads through his heart like blisters and canker sores.

  They keep moving. The plan is to reach the Filthy Claws encampment and gather resources from the Silvercrest Howlers still occupying their lands. If they can accumulate a few men and resources, they’ll have enough to storm the Silvercrest Howlers and fight Randolph to get their clan back.

  Micah finds him later that day.

  Ryu stays away from the pack, choosing to sleep alone and eat whatever he can find rather than sit with men he knows want him dead. Nightmares of his fight with the Bloodhound Prince plague him: Arima Kihei’s demonic eyes flashing and their swords clashing together. Ryu shudders.

  He lost. And if the house hadn’t collapsed, he would’ve been dead. The Bloodhound Prince is too strong, and Ryu fears he can’t defeat him. Crouched on the river bank, he cleans off some of the dirt on his leather jacket and vest. The air is cool and breezy. The night sky shines down on them.

  “Ryu.” Micah looks heavier these days as if he is worn thin. “You left dinner last night.”

  “Watching you guys fight all day gives me a headache,” Ryu grumbles, scrubbing harder at a particularly rough patch.

  “You were expected.” Micah clasps his hands together. It’s formal, professional, and so utterly fake Ryu wants to scream. A rock, a pillar of ice. Micah’s always been like this. His voice is always calm and measured, and he rarely shows his true self. Ryu catches a glimpse now and then before he reins it in tightly.

  Chapter 4

  “What do you want?” Micah’s eyes flash. The level of disrespect Ryu shows him is enough to make anyone seething mad. Hence why the clan doesn’t like him.

  “My Second, you agreed to be at my side at all times.”

  “I said no such thing.” Ryu cuts his eyes at Micah, then goes back to cleaning. “I said I would act as your Second just to keep those fuckers off my back.”

  “To be my Second is to be at my side at all times.”

  “Where does it say that?”

  Micah sighs. “It’s in the rules and regulations the Silvercrest Howlers have upon mating with your Alpha.”

  Oh yeah. Got him there. “Well, I’m sure you can make the exception.”

  “I won’t.”

  Ryu stands and brushes the dirt from the riverbank off his clothes. “What do you mean?”

  Micah watches him for a long time. “We are the change. You said so yourself. How can we show them we’re united in front of the Filthy Claws if we can barely do that in front of the other clans? I want you by my side as my Second.”

  The deep tenor of his voice shoots directly to his spine, and Ryu can already feel the subtle command taking root. Ryu’s breath catches as he stares at Micah. It’s not like those fuckers want him around, even though he saved all their lives. Why the hell is he forcing this? “That sounds an awful lot like a command.”

  Micah gives him a hard look. “It is.”
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br />   “What? You think forcing me to spend time with you will make me love you?”

  “You already love me.”

  Goddamn him and his logic. “And I loathe you just as much.”

  “It’s what Amaya would’ve wanted.”

  Rage explodes across his vision. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.” How can he say that? Was it to make him feel even more like a failure? Her dying words were to trust Micah, and Ryu couldn’t even find it in his heart to do that.

  “Ryu,” Micah says. “I feel you. Your anguish and your pain. The Māku speaks to me in ways you don’t understand. I’ve known your heart as well as my own for decades. I know you fear for her safety. I know you think she’s dead. I can assure you. She is not. I’ve planned for this. There are measures in place that ensure her safety and yours.”

  Ryu gasps, eyes widening. “You.”

  “I told you. She’s under my protection.”

  “But how?” Ryu asks. He needs to know.

  “She is safe. My physicians keep an eye on her condition. If things change, I’ll be notified through the link immediately.”

  Relief floods him. Ryu holds back tears as he stares at Micah. For days he worried about her well-being, even agonized over if she was alive or dead. Micah had gotten her out in time. Maybe put her away with a few of his trusted men? Ryu doesn’t know. What he does know is that Micah took care of it. He looked after Amaya for him.

  It chills him to think that Micah would do something so caring and loving. Yet Ryu can’t help but think Micah has some ulterior motive. Perhaps he wants something else in return? Besides having Ryu as his second.

  “I want you at my side. We are one, as you said earlier. We need to act like it.”

  He’s right. He did say that earlier. Everything is so complicated now. How can he be at Micah’s side when he doesn’t trust him? How can they portray a healthy, loving relationship when he only feels anger and resentment? How can they be together when Micah doesn’t stand up for him?

  “You never—” Ryu starts but then stops himself.

  “What is it?”

  He wrings his hands, wondering how to say the words. “They still resent me…Alhazred and the others…that’s also why I…stay away…”

  Micah’s expression hardens. “I see. Is that what triggered you earlier?”

  Ryu nods.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to them. Don’t worry about it anymore.”

  There is something else, something that’s been weighing heavily on his mind. How did the Lycans keep finding their location? It just doesn’t make sense, but Ryu knows if he voices his concerns, they may be able to find a solution. “I think we have a bigger problem on our hands.”

  “You think there’s a spy in the group.”

  “That’s the only way to explain it.”

  Micah looks away. “You think it’s Alhazred.”

  “I have my suspicions.”

  “I do too. We are looking into it. Trmon founds distra root on several trees. Deryn notes that Alhazred leaves for an extended period of time…but nobody knows exactly where he goes. Alhazred isn’t particularly close to Randolph, but his current hostility and lack of involvement are concerning.”

  Ryu swallows and grips his leather jacket tightly. “Thank you.”

  Micah nods. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  He watches Micah walk away, the moon beaming down on him like heaven's light. New emotions swell within him. Of course, he is thankful, but that still doesn’t change the past. Ryu sighs deeply, then sits back down on the riverbank.

  Heartache is like a bodily response; it affects each organ on a cellular level. The stress from the Māku and the betrayal of his mate have haunted him for years. Ryu desperately wants to rid himself of this bond, this chain around his neck. They’ve been apart for years; nothing is the same anymore. Ryu will need to take his time to get to know Micah again not as his mate but as Byakuren. Yet at the same time, he burns with longing. One thing is very clear: Micah is right. They’ll have to stand united no matter what.

  He doesn’t clean his jacket.

  Ryu watches the stars instead.

  Chapter 5

  Silvercrest Howlers

  Hiratsuka, ‘17

  Four years ago…

  It’s not over. Ryu determines that too late. Micah brings him back to the camp, ghostly white and shaking like a leaf, blood, shit, and grime all over his frayed uniform. The remaining wolves stare at him, their eyes filled with accusation and bitter resentment. They’ve all lost. Micah says nothing. He guides Ryu straight to his tent and holds him close. It takes a long time before he realizes that Micah is crying.

  His body racks with tears muffled by the crook of his neck. Ryu cradles his head, a silent apology on his lips. He’s sorry. So very sorry.

  Disobeying Micah was wrong. He should never have left to try to save Kenyon. If he’d stayed, the line wouldn’t have been broken. Kenyon wouldn’t have been able to find a way through.

  “Let me be next to you,” Micah says.

  Ryu says nothing. He allows Micah to lay him down on the thin cot and lavish his blood-soaked body with heavy kisses. The stench of moldavite is still ripe on his skin. Micah takes off his clothes, not caring it’s still the middle of the day and many of the wolves will be expecting him later on. Micah cares for none of those things.

  Ryu allows him to enter him, swift and unyielding. He cries out, body battered and aching. He pants like mad, clutching Micah’s back as he thrusts wildly on top of him.

  Micah swears his devotion over and over again. It feels desperate. It feels like good-bye. Ryu arches his back and comes with Micah’s name on his lips. Micah kisses him savagely like he’s half-possessed.

  When it’s all over, Ryu cries. He pictures Kenyon from their youth, the boy who protected him and sheltered him from the storm. Micah holds him until his tears dry and his face is devoid of emotion.

  “Rest,” Micah whispers to him, his words branding his skin.

  Ryu falls into a deep sleep.

  -

  Rings of smoke coil in the midnight air.

  Ryu stands outside the tent, enclosed in darkness, blowing soot through his mouth and nostrils. He watches the careless tendrils twine and twirl. He rarely smokes, mostly because the smell burns his nose and tickles his throat.

  His hand is shaking, sweat cools on his back and forehead, and his heart slams against his rib cage.

  Kenyon comes to him again in his dreams, his skin wrapped in barbwire, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth, his hand outstretched as he wails in agony. You’re mine. You’re mine. Ryu screams back at the phantom, viciously denying the claim, but no sound falls from his lips.

  Who exactly does he belong to? Ryu shudders at the thought.

  It’s been days since he left the tent. The riotous attitude of the Silvercrest Howlers is mounting by the second. Most of them are urging Michael to storm the Filthy Claws clan and decimate them for the attack on their encampment. But what’s there to kill? Women? Children? Most of the Lycans that fought in the war died when Kenyon died. Their bodies turned to ash and floated away on the wind. For now, it seems the rebellion is sedated. Without a leader, the Filthy Claws have retreated.

  However, that isn’t enough. The Silvercrest Howlers want retribution. They want whoever is responsible to burn.

  Ryu is responsible. He acted foolishly and ended up getting half of them killed. He pinches the bridge of his nose, frustration bubbling in his core. There is no way around it. The council will come for him and demand he stand trial for breaking his Alpha’s oath, endangering all their lives.

  Micah comes back later that night, worn and haggard, his expression lethal. He doesn’t say much, just gathers Ryu into his arms and falls asleep. This pattern continues for weeks and weeks, both of them avoiding the storm brewing.

  It isn’t until the first moon comes that Micah comes to collect him.

  This time he isn’t alone. Deryn and Trmon flank him. S
everal other wolves Ryu knows are from the Silvercrest regiment stand behind them. “Come. The council has gathered.”

  Ryu swallows thickly, and his hands quake as he follows them out of the tent.

  Micah doesn’t look at him and keeps his eyes forward and his expression blank. If he is to punish his mate, he can’t show weakness. Ryu is aware of that. Still, his heart twists painfully. What do they plan to do to him? Maim him? The punishment for disobeying the Alpha is death. However, he’s Micah’s second and has proven himself valuable to the clan. At least, he hopes so. By the time they reach the main tent, his heart is in his throat.

  “Micah,” he says softly, yearning to catch just a glimpse of his eyes.

  “Step forward,” someone barks behind him, forcing him to keep moving. They enter the tent. Michael sits on his throne, looking like he aged a hundred years. His face is ashen, his normally rich dark skin is drawn, and he clutches his stomach as if he were in immense pain. Ryu gasps when he realizes he must have been injured severely in the war. Why didn’t Micah tell him? The guards bring him into the middle of the room and force him to kneel. Ryu keeps his gaze low, trembling from all the stares in the room.

  “Ryu Suzuki,” a voice rings out. “Kuroi kage—second to Micah McCorbyn. You have disobeyed your Alpha, committed crimes against the Silvercrest Howlers that have cost the lives of thousands. How do you plead?”

  Ryu gasps and turns to the man in question. The councilmen look smugly satisfied. The cat has finally caught the canary, slowly breaking its neck between its teeth.

  Kill two birds with one stone. They never wanted Ryu as Micah’s Omega. They can easily get rid of him, throw him into the trash. Ryu’s breath catches, and his heart pounds relentlessly. He turns to Micah for help.

  Only Micah looks away and holds his gaze fixed on the floor.

  This isn’t a trial.

  It’s his execution.

  Chapter 6

  They accuse him of everything and anything. From fucking Kenyon on a mountain of dead bodies to strategically planning the war all along. It’s a witch hunt, plain and simple. That disgusts him to his core as the council parades around, spouting their hatred for the Filthy Claws and his involvement with the Silvercrest Howlers ambush. Ryu can say nothing in his defense. To them, he is guilty by association. Things such as proof and justice are unnecessary.