Enemies at the Gate

The Blood fang stronghold loomed far away, its dark walls against the silver glistening of the rising moon. Torches' smoke twisted into the night air, but under the smell of fire and steel was something worse.

Blood; anxiety; war.

Kieran stood at the brink of the northern ridge, his golden eyes fixed on the shadows moving down the valley.

They were on arrival.

And this time there would not be a retreat.

Standing next him, Elara's fingers tightened around her dagger's hilt. "Exactly how many?"

Kieran's jaw contracted. "Too many"

The first howl then broke the stillness.

Blood fang had started its fight.

Their torches shimmering like fireflies in the darkness, the enemy forces spanned the valley.

Fang made of obsidian. Red claws. Once rivals, a coalition of packs came together under one cause—Dante's cause.

Kieran let out a measured breath. Dante had anticipated this very moment.

Elara's pulse hammered when she realized just how many they were. "They have been organizing this for several weeks."

"Months, Kieran corrected." Though he spoke softly and under control, she could hear the edge under it.

"They want Blood fang to drop," Elara said.

Kieran turned to her, his golden eye sharp like steel. Then we make sure it doesn't.

Tension in the fortress thickened like smoke.

Warriors, strategists, scouts—all arguing—were packed into the war chamber.

"We cannot fight them straight forwardly!" Caleb froze. Three to one, they outnumber us.

Selene grinned while slanted against the table with arms crossed. " therefore what? Do you wish to give them the gate's keys?

One of Kieran's senior fighters, Garrick slammed his hand down. We are not running right now. We conflict.

"But how?" then asks Still another warrior let out a scream. We do not have the numbers.

Elara let them debate while listening.

She agreed with both sides, really.

Should they go head-on, they would lose. But capitulation was not an alternative.

Then—Kieran said.

"enough."

The space went quiet.

Kieran wore golden eyes that blazed. We are not going to give up. But neither are we entering a massacre here.

Elara paid great attention to him. This was unique.

Kieran she had known in the past had always been the brute force fighter.

But Kieran, this is another way.

He led.

Not out of fear. Not by supremacy.

Using tactics.

And more than anything, that scared her.

Given an Alpha fighting with both mind and brawn?

That person could bring forth battle victories.

Kieran turned to see the map laid above the war table. Dante believes we will protect the gates. We will fight, he believes, like corned prey.

A gentle smile curved over his mouth. "But we're not prey."

He made a spot on the map. "We draw them here. From the ravine.

Caleb scowled. "That death trap is what I mean."

Kieran's smile never wavered. "For them".

Elara caught right away. Though a gamble, it was a brilliant one.

The ground was uneven, the ravine small. They might use their numbers against them if they directed Dante's men through that bottleneck.

Kieran turned to survey the room. "We fight wisely." We combat like wolves. Moreover, we do not lose.

Pauses.

The fighters nodded one by one then.

That sounded like a risky scheme.

Still, their best chance was here.

Before breakfast, the first wave arrived.

Elara shivered down her spine as the war horns rang over the valley, a terrible scream.

Perched on the brink of the ridge, she watched Dante's army surge at the stronghold.

The trap then snapped.

Kieran's fighters lured them into the ravine by moving like shadows, striking quickly, then withdrawing faster.

The enemy pursued exactly as intended.

And Kieran raised his hand when enough of them were inside.

Now.

Elara sent the first blazing arrow.

The heavens collapsed.

Hidden oil trenches ringed the ravine, which burst in fire trapping hundreds of enemy wolves inside.

There were screaming in the air.

And then Blood fang attacked.

Blood painted the ground under them as the fight raged like a hurricane, anarchy.

Elara battled alongside Kieran, her daggers blazing and her breath harsh, short bursts.

She had battled many times before.

Still, this is what I mean.

War was what we were experiencing.

And in battle, one had no time for doubt.

Her body moving on instinct, she first removed one wolf then another.

Beside her Kieran was a natural force.

His claws ripped through foes, his motions merciless, exact, relentless.

And for a brief instant, they moved together in time as if they had never been apart.

Until—a fresh aroma permeated the air.

One fragrance made her blood stop cold.

Dante:

Kieran stopped midway the fight, his golden eyes fixed on the man above the mountain.

Arm crossed, Dante stood there grinning down at them.

"Elara," he thought, "I see you have selected your side."

Growled Elara, blood running from her dagger. " I never belonged to you."

Dante had silver eyes that shone. Pity.

He then held up his hand.

And everything transformed.

From the shadows rose a second army they had not seen approaching.

Dante had had something in mind.

And right now Bloodfang was encircled.

Can Bloodfang avoid the ambush?

At last will Elara and Kieran squarely face Dante?

Dante's true endgame is what?

The trap had been laid out.

But one's enemy wasn't the only one who had entered.

And today—only the strongest would survive.