Wolf Teeth || Book I : Summer {M/M} ❄

Chapter #19

It should not have been possible for the day to get worse, but it did.

The storm clouds didn't break. Oryen realized that he could only hear thunder because of his strengthened sense of hearing, but the storm itself was miles off. As a result, Kappa training involved gruelling hours of torment in suffocating humidity under Serove, who was more spectacularly grumpy than usual. Oryen—having some clue why—spent the entirety of his one-armed push-ups cursing Beau's name. Which, like saying Bloody Mary several times in a bathroom with the lights off, seemed to summon him at the end of practice.

As the other Kappas headed for the showers, Beau came out of an archway and pulled Oryen aside.

"I have another errand for us," he said. "Outside Kolraga, this time."

Oryen looked at the darkening skies, thick with the smell of ozone. "Now?"

"Come on."

Beau led him out through the massive gates and the canyon that guarded Kolraga. The guards there recognized him, inclining their heads in a strangely formal manner. Oryen had yet to fully comprehend the social graces of werewolves, but there had been signs of gestures reserved for those higher in the hierarchy. Beau, however, was not a werewolf at all. Still, he was afforded respect as if he was. Perhaps because, as Serove had put it, he got them nice things. Like booze.

Oryen could only speculate, but as they passed by the all-seeing jade eyes of the wolves carved into the cavern—and the hidden guards beyond—a dark thought crossed his mind.

Beau's job as a smuggler allowed him access through the gates at all times.

Of all people, he would have the easiest time spying for another pack.

Beau was searching for his family, but he'd never said who that family was, had made a point of avoiding the topic when Oryen asked. He had evidence so far that at least one family member had been here and spent a good deal of time with Kalysto. Beau's mother, if Oryen's assumptions were correct.

Perhaps his mother was a part of Kahleir. Perhaps he was involved in the terrible fortune dogging Oryen's brother.

Opportunity was only part of the equation though. Oryen would have to find evidence of guilt. He kept his thoughts to himself, but he eyed Beau's set shoulders and dark eyes with renewed suspicion.

The skies opened up. Rain lashed with a vengeance as they left the canyon and entered the forests surrounding Kolraga. They climbed crags on which the trees clung with roots like sailor's knots over the landscape. Beau moved with unerring, animal grace, finding every secure foothold like he'd been born to the wilds. Oryen was sore from the number of falls he'd taken practicing faylan with Reyz, and then training after that. Though Beau had spent an hour at faylan practice at least, he had no visible bruises, showed no sign he was fatigued.

Human as he was, Beau still seemed more like a werewolf than Oryen did.

Eventually, they came to a little shack. It stood barely visible amongst the trees. Ivy covered its walls like green snake scales, and it leaned so steeply to one side that it seemed a squirrel's sneeze away from keeling over. Despite appearances, it stayed standing in the storm hissing down around them.

Rain lashed Oryen's face and soaked through his clothes. He was pleased to have worn a dark shirt. If it were white and rain soaked, his tattoo would be on show for whatever scabby individual Beau planned on meeting in this hovel. If Oryen were honest, he'd rather face the wind and weather than enter that ramshackle hut. It looked like the perfect hideout for a serial killer.

"What's in there?" Oryen had to shout to be heard over the pounding of the rain as they sloshed toward the hut.

"Don't ask questions," Beau replied. "Better yet. Don't talk."