The Mercenary

I stared at Dearon in disbelief. My body had already healed. I could fight, but becoming a mercenary? A few days ago, I would have laughed off such a proposal. I had been Jarith's main strategist. I had often been a squad commander in battles. The “me” from a few days ago would have been disgusted had I even considered killing rogues for money. The problem was that I might not have too many options.

Dearon, Torin, Rafe, and Nazo clearly knew this territory. They could easily travel through Korendorr without raising any suspicions. Moreover, none of them knew I had killed Korendorr warriors. None of them knew who I was, which made traveling with them relatively safe…

“Come on, Kaira.” Torin nudged my arm, his green eyes sparkling. “We could use a she-wolf in our group.” I gave him a look, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I only meant I'd enjoy looking at your beautiful face… and not only at those uglies here.” He jerked up his chin, pointing at Rafe and Nazo.

“Who do you call ugly?” Rafe frowned at him before theatrically running his fingers through his golden hair. Nazo looked at him, then at Torin, and rolled his eyes.

I barely stifled a laugh. Gods, I genuinely wanted to laugh. Somehow, being around them made me feel… less broken. I drew a deep breath and placed my hand on my chest. The pain was still there, radiating, reminding me of everything Jarith had done, everything he had taken away from me. But now, it seemed more bearable, as if I were healing…

I felt Dearon's eyes on me and turned to meet his gaze. “Are you all right?” A genuine worry rang in his tone.

Only then did I realize my hand was still on my heart. I quickly placed it on my lap and gave him a nervous smile. “Y-yes. I just… um… I was thinking about my pack.”

He studied me for a moment, then leaned closer. “It's about that man you mentioned, isn't it?” He pointed at the spot where my hand had been. “The one who broke your heart.”

My chest tightened at his words. I sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “A lot has happened recently. I'm still trying to process it.”

His eyes found mine. “Did you kill him?” No accusation in his tone. It sounded more like he hoped I had.

“No,” I breathed out. “But at least he didn't get what he wanted. I'm still alive…”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Torin interjected, joining my conversation with his leader. “This guy broke your heart AND wanted you to kill you?”

“Torin.” Dearon's tone was a clear warning.

His brows knitted. “I just want to know his name. If he's still alive, then not for long now.”

I snorted. “You don't even know me, but you would kill some guy who hurt me?”

Torin flashed me a boyish grin. “I'm always ready to kill douchebags.”

Nazo grabbed Torin's shoulder, pulling him away. “He talks too much,” he grunted, explaining.

“Kaira.” Dearon's voice drew my attention back to him. “I'm still waiting for your answer.”

A sliver of unease appeared. I had told them I wanted to go to Eudoris, but I couldn't stay there either, not when Jarith was about to wear the Eudoris crown. Then again, Jarith might have already declared me dead. What if I changed my identity? What if I changed my name, maybe my hair color, and—

“Kaira?” Dearon's blue eyes locked on mine, a soft smile curving his lips. “Just accept my offer. I can sense a decent warrior. I know you can fight. You are perfect for the job... What are you afraid of?”

My wolf whimpered, almost begging me to agree. I hated to admit it, but she had a point. I had no gold, no horse, or even clothes to travel. What Dearon offered was generous and seemed to be exactly what I needed—a new purpose, a task, a distraction, and more time to gather my thoughts and craft a plan. So, what was I afraid of?

I drew a deep breath and rolled back my shoulders. “Fine. I'll go with you.”

His lips stretched into a wicked grin. “Glad to hear it, Kaira.” He extended his hand. “Welcome to our merry group.”

I rolled my eyes, but then shook his hand. “Please, don't make me regret it.”

***

I began to regret my decision exactly ten minutes later, right after Dearon announced I would be traveling on a horse… with him. I didn't have much choice, but the mere thought of being this close to Dearon made me insanely nervous.

I stood before a beautiful, black stallion, rubbing the white star on his forehead. Dearon told me his name was Nox. I noticed a thin scar right above his muzzle—a claw mark. I could only guess that one of the rogues must have hurt him.

“Let's go, beautiful,” Dearon whispered into my ear, sending a shiver throughout my body.

Gods, now I was even more nervous than before. Summoning my composure, I stepped to Nox's side, grabbed a saddle, and climbed onto his back. The tunic I wore curled up, exposing my thighs, and I didn't miss the way Dearon's eyes devoured every inch of my bare skin. My cheeks heated in an instant. I tried to pull the fabric, but my flusteredness only made the mercenary leader smirk.

A heartbeat passed, and he was in the saddle behind me. I shifted forward, reaching nearly the edge of the pommel. “It'll be uncomfortable to ride this way,” Dearon murmured, his hand gently sliding around my waist. “You can lean against me. I won't bite.” A breathy chuckle escaped him, the sound radiating down to my core.

I swallowed a curse. What was wrong with me? I had never reacted this way to any man before, no matter how attractive he was. But, for some reason, the sole inhaling of Dearon's scent sent all kinds of inappropriate thoughts to my mind.

Dearon's grip on my waist became firmer, pulling me toward him, coaxing. I must have gone completely insane since I submitted to his demand, leaning my back against his firm chest. His thighs rubbed against mine, and as he pulled me toward him, I could feel the bulge in his pants poking my buttocks…

Dear gods… What in three hells had I gotten myself into?! I could hear my wolf purr, suddenly resembling a happy little kitten. She seriously was NOT helping!

“I promise we'll get you a horse… and some clothes as soon as we get to Narellia,” Dearon said, grabbing Nox's reins.

I twisted in my seat to face him. “Narellia?”

“It's a small village, just a few miles from here,” Torin supplied, guiding his white horse to line up with Nox.

A smug smirk pulled at Dearon's lips. “See? Your discomfort won't last long.”

“I survived far worse than this,” I muttered, and his smirk turned into a feral grin.

“I bet you did,” he murmured, giving Nox a kick and shifting his grip on the reins. “Hold on tight, beautiful.”

I barely drew another breath before Nox began to gallop, taking us through the sandy path. The rest followed, matching our speed. My body slid back, perfectly fitting Dearon's large frame as we stormed through the woods, and despite all my previous nervousness, my muscles relaxed.

I inhaled Dearon's scent, and a soft smile curved my lips. My behavior was reckless, daring, utterly ridiculous, and yet, something about Dearon's proximity felt familiar. It felt like… home.

“There!” Nazo called out, pointing ahead to the valley, where a few dozen cottage houses were. Then he turned to me and smiled. “Narellia.”

They all seemed eager to go there, although I didn't understand what was so special about this place. It resembled one of the poor villages in the southern—less fortunate—parts of Sarendonia. We followed the village's main, and only, road, passing rows of modest houses. Suddenly, a group of young pups appeared, grinning as they saw Dearon and others.

“Dearon, Torin… You're back!” A blond-haired boy shouted.

A golden-haired woman, probably his mother, leaped out of the cottage, frowning at the kid. “Nolan, you can't call our Alpha and Beta by their names.”

My whole body tensed. I must have misheard her… right? I turned in my seat and saw Dearon smiling, shaking his head. “I don't mind, and neither does Torin.”

“Alpha Dearon!” A chubby old lady rushed toward us. “Are you all right? None of those pesky rogues hurt you, right?”

Chuckling, Dearon jumped off the horse. “I wouldn't let them.” He stepped forward to hug the old lady.

My heart began to pound at a hectic pace. I glanced at Nazo, Torin, and Rafe. They must have noticed the confusion written all over my face since Rafe turned to me and winked. “Welcome to Moon Shadow Pack, or rather, what is left of it.”

Dread filled every inch of me as my eyes drifted to Dearon. “Alpha Dearon,” I muttered, and my insides twisted.

“Dearon rarely uses his title,” Torin explained. “Guess he's still mourning his brother.”

Nazo jumped off his horse and walked over to me. “He has yet to officially claim the Moon Shadow Pack's castle, even if Alpha Callum died over six months ago.” Then, he gave me a wry smile, adding, “Alpha Callum died in the Great Battle.”

“I know,” I choked out as my stomach churned. I had witnessed it firsthand. I was the one who had killed Dearon's brother.