Chapter 7
Trusting the Enemy
The camp is exactly what it sounds like: a camp. At first, I didn’t notice it. The overwhelming stench of magic filled the air. It was like staring at a mirage until everything started to come into focus. There were tents everywhere, people going about their chores, laughing, and sitting around campfires. By the time we arrived, the sun had already begun to set.
Alpha Bren would always tell us that the rebels are savages–nothing but bloodlust–driven werewolves hungry for war.
Except, the camp looks nothing like that. There are families here, elders. Everyone seems to have a role. A few people are cooking, others are setting up fallen tents. It seems innocent, even kind. As we walk through the camp, people stare at me. Some size me up, while others smile, like they want me to stay.
I get a few “hellos” and “welcomes.” A little kid runs up to me and hands me a bracelet he
made.
It makes me smile, and I feel much more at ease than I did earlier. Until we start walking toward the back of the camp. The mood shifts almost instantly as the tents change from yellows and reds to dark shades of black and green. I feel like I’ve entered a warzone, as several built–up wolves remind me instantly of Sparta. It doesn’t take a genius to realize I’ve entered the war room.
Two guards stand outside the largest tent in the complex. Their eyes narrow at me, as if I’m nothing but a bug that needs to be squashed. One of them turns to Eric. “Are you out of your
mind?”
“It was Jess‘ idea,” Eric raises his hands.
Jess doesn’t even bat an eye. “She just needs a lift to the mountains.”
“I didn’t realize we became a taxi service.”
Another werewolf steps out of the tent. His hair is ragged and sandy, eyes piercing green, and his body more lean than built.
“Come on, Joshua,” Jess moves around me, placing her hands on my shoulders and pushing me forward. “Just let her meet Hala and Kane. They can decide.”
“Kane is on a mission,” Joshua’s words are careful, like he doesn’t want to give too much away. His attention seems distracted, and I quickly realize he’s mind–linking with someone.
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Within seconds, he steps aside and pulls back the tent doorway, allowing me to enter.
“Only her,” Joshua gestures to Eric and Jess. My heart starts pounding. The names Kane and Hala echo in my mind. I know those names, or at least they sound familiar. I start cursing in my head. The females in Sparta were never told about the rebellion as much as the warrior males. It was their job to know, and ours was to learn. Idiots–knowledge is power.
I walk into the elaborate tent, feeling as if an emperor lives there. There are several rooms sectioned off, as if more than one person lives here. As I step closer, I notice a large table in the corner with what looks like a map. As if noticing my gaze, Joshua quickly blocks it with his body.
Turning my attention forward, I almost laugh at the throne–like wooden chair in the center of the tent. But unlike a throne, there are other chairs–almost like a council. My eyes land on a young woman. Her face is stunning–more so than anything else about her. She has chiselled cheekbones and eyebrows beautifully framing her piercing eyes. Her collarbone is prominent, and I can see the mark of the Rebellion hanging around her neck from a gold chain.
She’s dressed as if ready for war, with a leather–bound strap and corset around her midsection holding two blades on either side of her. I sniff the air and freeze. She’s a werewolf, but I can smell the silver coming from those blades. A werewolf wielding silver–that’s almost unheard
- of.
“Hala?” I ask tentatively, causing Joshua to growl.
She raises her hand, and I watch as he slowly walks toward her until he’s standing by her side. “No.” She narrows her eyes. “I’m Sloane. Who are you?”
I lick my lips. “My name is Mia.”
“Why were you brought here, Mia?”
I’ve dealt with Alpha females my whole life. Every she–wolf in Sparta wants nothing more than to fight. Every ounce of energy radiating off Sloane reminds me of Sparta. It reminds me of Spartan werewolves. I straighten my back and meet her eyes.
“I was promised food, housing,” I say nonchalantly. “And a ride.”
Sloane raises an eyebrow and turns to Joshua.
“Seriously?”
Joshua rolls his eyes. Despite his attempt to mutter it quietly, I still hear him say, “You know,
Jess. Always trying to recruit.”
I quickly intervene, “I’m not here to join your cause.”
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They stare at me, bewildered. Clearing my throat, I bare my wrist. “I have no pack claim. I’m just a rogue. But I want a pack.”
I feel the sting as I add, “I was rejected by my mate.”
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and the emptiness I’ve been feeling almost intensifies at the thought of Bren and my home. Sloane’s eyes remain unchanged. I decide to continue, “I’m headed to the mountains to plead with the Scholars to let me join their pack.”
“The Scholars?” Sloane’s eyebrows rise. “Where did you come from?”
I don’t know whether I should tell them. Maybe they’ll see me as a threat or an opportunity. For all I know, they might want insight into how we train our wolves.
Hesitantly, I speak, “Sparta.”
Joshua instantly growls and takes a step forward as if to protect Sloane. “Do you have any idea how many of your pack have killed ours?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “And I’m not part of that pack. Not anymore.”
Sloane reaches for Joshua’s hand, rubbing circles on it until he calms down. “And what will you do with the information of being here?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“No one is to know our rebellion has a camp here.” Sloane tilts her head, and I start to panic. “So we only have two options.”
I bite my lip, watching as she calculates carefully in her head. Her beauty is almost intoxicating. Even I can’t help but wonder if she’s been crafted by the moon goddess.
“You can stay here,” she says slowly. “Or you can trust us enough to get you to the mountains. But under our conditions.”
I swallow, “And what conditions are those?”
She smiles crookedly. “You’ll just have to trust us.”
