Bound by Honor (War of the Five Fangs Book 0) Page 2

  “I-I am Rohn of House Greyborn,” the wolf stammered, refusing to meet Oberon’s gaze, and Oberon’s heart dashed into his throat. Rohn Greyborn, Oberon thought, the name bouncing around in his head like a stone. Your future mate. His name is Rohn. And he will try to tame you, Oberon. Do let him, Pollux’s words echoed in his mind. At that moment, Oberon had never felt more wild. Many Omegas existed in his pack, many of whom had tried to win his favor, but none of them had had an effect on Oberon like Rohn did.

  “And he is no heir of mine,” Aris growled, stirring Oberon back into his body.

  “Then why have you brought him?” Oberon asked.

  “Use your nose, Black Claw. You know why I’ve brought him,” Aris said. “You need allies. My pack needs an heir. Though I find you contemptible, even I cannot deny your genes and what they’d bring to the Greyborn line.” This is what Pollux foresaw, Oberon thought incredulously. Or was it a vision?

  “Tell me this and tell it true, did Pollux arrange this?” Oberon asked. He had to know, had to discern whether this was fate as Pollux had seen it, or future as Pollux had created it.

  “Pollux asked me to meet with you, nothing more,” Aris said. “The old seer is wise enough not to involve himself with things such as these.” Then it was Aris’s idea. He’s both powerful and clever. A dangerous mix, Oberon thought.

  “What are your terms?” Oberon asked, though he dreaded the answer.

  “I will treaty with you and pledge my pack’s numbers to your and the Gold Eye’s cause,” Aris said and for a moment Oberon allowed himself to believe it would be as simple as that. “And in return, you will take Rohn as your mate and give me the Alpha heir our pack deserves,” he continued and Oberon struggled to keep his face from giving away his feelings. He knew what this meant. As if it weren’t enough that he’d insulted his brethren by stealing away to meet with Pollux, he was now being asked to drive a knife into their backs by mating with a member of their most rival pack.

  Perhaps most worrisome of all, Oberon wasn’t repulsed nor frightened by the idea of mating with Rohn. In fact, his scent, his meekness, and his innocence added up to an appeal that was nearly overwhelming for Oberon, to say nothing of the power that be forged by bonding their two great houses together. But I will have no house after this, Oberon thought, and again Pollux’s words swam through his mind: Peace has never come free, Oberon. Is your pride worth more than that?

  “I accept,” Oberon said gravely and Aris smiled, a terrible sight of gnarled teeth. Rohn whimpered once more, which tugged at Oberon’s heart. It was clear that Rohn feared his father, and despite himself, Oberon longed to go to Rohn, to keep him safe and show him tenderness. Something about Rohn brought out a tenderness in Oberon himself that he didn’t know he possessed.

  “Excellent,” Aris said.

  “And what of my pack?” Oberon asked.

  “Forget them. They will no longer want you once news of this arrangement reaches their den, and it will do so with haste,” Aris said. “It will be better for all involved if you come with us. We will protect you should the Black Claws attempt retaliation.”

  “I need no protecting,” Oberon bristled. “Lest you forget, I am the leader of the Black Claw pack.”

  “No. You were the leader of the Black Claw pack. You are packless, and a packless wolf requires all of the protection he can muster. Now come,” Aris said and lunged into the forest, heading south to the Grey Fang den.

  Rohn

  There was no use in denying it: Rohn was frightened. Of course, fear was a feeling he’d grown intimately familiar with over the years, but the fright that twisted in his stomach now was unlike any other. His father, with his brusque nature and zero tolerance for weakness, terrified him in ways that Rohn couldn’t put into words; Oberon Mooneye, however, struck him speechless in a much different way.

  This wolf is to be my mate, Rohn thought with a shudder as they approached the Grey Fang den, nestled deep in its thick forest of tall, intimidating pine trees. Rohn had heard many things about Oberon and his conquests in the War for the Light, and he found it difficult to believe that Oberon would ever be capable of tenderness, much less with a cowardly wolf like himself. It’s only a mating, nothing more, he tried to reassure himself, though as he glanced over his shoulder at the massive brown-and-black striped wolf behind him, any reassurance he may have felt evaporated.

  Oberon wasn’t as large as Aris, but it wasn’t his size that put Rohn on edge. No, it was his strength, the power Rohn saw with each absent-minded flex of Oberon’s muscles as he padded along silently. By comparison, Rohn looked like a starved mongrel, like one of the Packless, those unfortunate wolves who had no den to call their home, roaming the disputed lands around Aurora Falls to fight for scraps and their very lives on a daily basis.

  And the scent that Oberon put off was maddening, a mixture of sweet, bitter, and untamed wildness that filled Rohn with urges he’d never felt before. As intimidating as he found Oberon, he also found himself wanting to submit to that intimidation, to give himself over entirely to Oberon. To be his.

  The very thought of lying with Oberon, of being subject to the power so obviously on display in his frame, gave Rohn a case of the tremors—not least because he found the thought titillating. He’ll never feel anything more for me than lust, Rohn thought. But I suppose that’s better than any of the feelings my father has ever had for me.

  “Behold, the den of the Grey Fangs,” Aris announced, jerking Rohn out of his thoughts. He’d spent his entire life in the den of the Grey Fangs, so the giant cave entrance with its gust of cold air had no effect on him, but he watched Oberon’s amber eyes grow large in their sockets. “Best guard your tongue and mind your step, Black Claw. My fellow Grey Fangs won’t be as accepting of you as I have been,” Aris continued and set off for the cave.

  “Do they know we’re coming?” Oberon asked, and Rohn detected a hint of fear in his voice.

  “Of course not. They’d have murdered me if I’d told them I intended to bring a sworn enemy into their home,” Aris said and barked out a laugh at the horrified look on Oberon’s face. “What’s wrong, great warrior Oberon? Has your courage fled you?”

  “Never,” Oberon said, his face hardening.

  “He’s only trying to scare you,” Rohn said and Oberon’s eyes snapped to his face.

  “You do speak,” he said and again Aris barked out a laugh.

  “My son might be a craven Omega, even I cannot deny that, but he does at least have a tongue that functions. Sometimes more than it should,” Aris said and Rohn was thankful he wasn’t in his human form so Oberon couldn’t see the hotness he felt on his face. It was true, though. Rohn had wasted many words attempting to convince his father that perhaps war and bloodshed wasn’t always the correct answer; a fool’s errand.

  “How can you speak of your own son like that?” Oberon asked and Aris growled, though Rohn barely heard it over the sound of his own racing heart. No one had ever spoken up for him before, much less against his father. Maybe this Oberon won’t be so terrible of a mate after all, he thought.

  “As I said, Black Claw, guard your tongue,” he said, and Rohn could’ve sworn he saw the beginnings of a smirk on Oberon’s face. Rohn found he very much liked that look. Aris entered the cave and Rohn followed, feeling nervous for Oberon. He couldn’t imagine walking into a place like this with a target painted on his back like Oberon was. He’d known Oberon was brave, but this reeked more of recklessness than bravery. Then again, what choice did Oberon have? He’d given up his entire life, his entire lineage, to put an end to the war they’d all been fighting for nearly a decade. If that wasn’t bravery, Rohn wasn’t sure what was.

  The energy inside the den was electric from the moment the three of them stepped inside. The wolves that guarded the entrance leapt to their feet in a defensive stance at the scent of Oberon until Aris growled at them and they slunk away. No wolf dared defy or offend Aris. He ruled with an iron paw.

  Despite its massive size and the draft that constantly carried through it, the Grey Fang den had always felt cozy to Rohn, thanks to the warmer southern climate and the way the den was structured. Landings of stone jutted out from the walls, forming a sort of natural staircase on either side of the main entrance that led up to the living quarters for most of the Grey Fangs. The main level was reserved for his father’s quarters and the room reserved for the Grey Fang elders, who were responsible for keeping the pack leader in control and making the final decision on matters that affected the pack.

  As their visitor’s foreign scent spread, a rustling of wolves stirring from their slumber filled the den. The tremor that Rohn had been fighting his entire life returned at the sound. He doubted this would end without some sort of conflict and the idea of violence in his own den terrified him.

  Oberon stepped up beside him, and warmth radiated from his body, giving Rohn a strange sensation of comfort and protection. Oberon didn’t know him from any other wolf in their world, but he seemed to have taken a liking to Rohn, which puzzled him. No one liked Rohn, not even his own father, so what could a legendary warrior wolf like Oberon see in him? Your body, nothing more, he thought disdainfully. Oberon no doubt had Alpha urges and needs, which could only be fulfilled by an Omega like himself. Would that be so wrong? he wondered but he didn’t get the chance to consider it any further because a growl echoed throughout the cavernous entrance, making the fur on all of their backs stand up.

  “What have you done?” a worn wolf whose snow-slush fur was matted and patchy asked as they stepped forward. Shira Northstar, one of the few female Alphas in all of Moonvalley Lake and member of the Grey Fang elder council, glowered down at Aris and his company from the upper ledge.

  “I’ve made a motion to save us al
l, which is more than I can say for you and your council’s inaction,” Aris answered. Shira bared her fangs and snapped at the air in front of her.

  “You’ve defied the wishes of your council, gone behind their backs, and brought a sworn enemy of the Grey Fang pack into our home. That, to me, does not seem much like saving us,” she spat.

  “I did what needed to be done and I will not be ridiculed for it. When the Black Claws fall to pieces as a result of the arrangement I’ve bartered, it will be the look on your sour face I’ll savor the most,” Aris said.

  “Let it be known I take no pleasure in this myself,” Oberon spoke up.

  “Silence, Black Claw. Your words are worth scarce more than dung here,” Shira commanded, and though Oberon bristled, he kept his words to himself. “You’ve brought doom on us all, Aris,” Shira said before addressing the entire den, her voice echoing off of the walls around them. “Let it be remembered among all of the Grey Fang wolves gathered here this night that the great Aris Greyborn took it upon himself to speak for you all when he covenanted with our gravest enemy, Oberon Mooneye of the Black Claws,” she said and snarls filled the space as recognition at last dawned on Rohn’s fellow wolves.

  “Let it also be remembered,” Aris boomed over the noise, “That your council saw fit to consign you all to years’ more worth of war by refusing to engage with potential allies.”

  “Allies? Allies?” Shira scoffed. “Enlighten me, dear Aris, when has a Black Claw ever been one of our allies?”

  “Since tonight,” Rohn spoke up, surprising even himself. Both Shira and Aris fixed their eyes on him, fire burning in each pair.

  “And it seems you’ve corrupted your already troubled young pup as well,” Shira scoffed. “You, Rohn, step forward.” Rohn did as he was commanded, his paws trembling against the dirt and stone beneath them. Though he was frightened and dreaded the retribution his father would no doubt release on him for daring to be so bold, Rohn felt empowered. He wanted to prove to Oberon that he was a wolf worthy of his stature and he wanted to show his father that was not nearly as craven as he was so widely believed to be.

  “Tell me, Rohn, why it is you would consider Oberon Mooneye an ally of the Grey Fang packs, and tell me true,” Shira said. Rohn’s heart thudded in his throat, choking back any of the millions of words that crashed around in his mind. He swallowed and a whimper escaped him, making the other wolves laugh. The sound of their howls enraged him and again he was grateful to be in wolf form where no one could see the blood rushing to his face. Their laughter enraged him and spurred him on. Don’t allow them make a mockery of you, not anymore, he told himself.

  “He’s given up everything to be here,” Rohn said, his voice strong and sure. “None of you know what that means. He’s forsaken his own pack and agreed to take me as his mate and produce the heir this great pack deserves.” Silence filled the cavern until the wolves burst into laughter.

  “Then he’s more of a fool than even I dared believe,” Shira said. “What respectable Alpha would ever agree to mate with an Omega who’s frightened by his own tail?” she asked to another wave of laughter.

  “How courageous you must feel, to stand above an Omega and mock them. Does public humiliation make you feel like a real Alpha?” Rohn asked, a fire burning in his chest. He didn’t know where the words had come from, but as they bounced off the cave walls and silenced the laughter of the other wolves, he was grateful they had. Silence returned to the den, but this was a different, uneasy variant. Shira’s silver eyes flashed.

  “Careful with that tongue of yours, young pup, or I’ll have it torn out,” she said, barely more than a whisper.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Rohn said, his voice cracking but still firm. “I am still the next in succession for leadership of this pack.”

  “All rules can be bent or broken, if necessary,” Shira said, glaring at Aris.

  “Which is precisely what my father has done. He’s broken the rules for the good of the pack. Don’t you see, Shira? Without Oberon leading their army, the Black Claws will fall apart. It’s only a matter of time,” Rohn said. “They have no replacement for him, and with the information he can provide us about their operations, we are in a much better position now than we’ve ever been.” He may have been cowardly, but he was as far from ignorant as was possible to be. Rohn had spent years holed up in his quarters reading and researching the great battles and great wolf warriors—including Oberon himself—but no one had ever bothered to listen to anything he might have to say until now.

  “And what of the danger it brings us as well? Did you overlook the potential of a retaliatory strike against our entire pack by the Black Claws on behalf of Mooneye’s defection?” Shira asked.

  “It was a risk worth taking,” Aris interrupted. “And one that I will defend until my dying breath. We cannot afford to keep this war going any longer, not any of our packs, and yet still we do so. We’re dying, Shira. Look at the wolves around you, who’ve gone without sustenance for far longer periods than any of us has ever had to suffer. We need him. We need this.”

  “Then he is yours and yours alone,” Shira said. “He will live in Rohn’s quarters, he will keep to himself, and he will do whatever is asked of him without objection.”

  “Of course,” Aris said.

  “And he will never be one of us,” Shira said before she turned her back and disappeared into the depths of the den. Rohn turned to find Oberon smiling at him, clearly impressed by his show of bravery.

  “You’re twice the wolf any of them are,” Oberon whispered to him. “Perhaps I’m not the wolf who needs taming. You are.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Rohn said, chills wracking his entirety as his mind screamed, Tame me, take me, make me yours. He couldn’t believe the changes Oberon brought out in him, but he also couldn’t deny that he enjoyed them.

  “I will give you a son, you have my word,” Oberon said. “And he will be the greatest Alpha your pack has ever dared dream to have.”

  “How? How could my anxious genes ever match or meld with yours?” Rohn asked, genuinely curious.

  “Destiny,” Oberon answered, his eyes twinkling.

  Rohn

  Aris’s massive form cast an even larger shadow as the rising sun bathed his figure. Rohn’s father liked to come to the sea shore alone early in the dawn to contemplate because he no longer felt safe to do his praying at Aurora Falls. No wolf did.

  Rohn would ordinarily have never dared disturb Aris with his presence at a time like this, but things were quite far from ordinary in their lives now. In the three days after Rohn had spoken up to Shira and the rest of the pack, his father seemed to have changed his opinion of Rohn.

  “My son,” Aris said warmly without turning to face Rohn. He’d no doubt smelled Rohn before he’d heard him approaching. The words swelled Rohn’s heart—Aris had never used them affectionately before.

  “Father,” Rohn answered.

  “Have you come to make peace as well?”

  “Make peace with what?”

  “Your fate,” Aris said, turning to him as Rohn padded up to Aris’s side to admire the sun cresting over the horizon. The waters of the Sea of Stars were unsettled and the winds whipped and howled in Rohn’s ears, but in another first, Rohn didn’t feel frightened. Instead, he saw beauty and promise. He felt hope.

  “I made peace with my fate many moons ago,” Rohn said.

  “And what peace was that?” Aris asked.

  “That I would never be great. That the wolves would never sing songs of my feats. That I was put on this soil to read and write about the conquests and careers of wolves much braver than myself,” Rohn said, and despite the tone of his words, he didn’t feel remorse or shame.

  “How could any wolf be at peace with a future as grim as that?” Aris asked.

  “Because no pack could ever survive without an intelligent wolf to lead it, even if it’s from the shadows,” Rohn answered. “My role is not to fight or conquer on the battlefield. My role is to fight and conquer in the mind.”

  “Perhaps I’ve misjudged you all these years,” Aris said.

  “Perhaps,” Rohn agreed and Aris chuckled and fell silent, gazing out at the sea. The sun had already risen high, and its warmth was a welcome buffer against the stinging cold of the sea spray.