THE WOLFLESS ALPHA

CHAPTER SEVEN THE GATE HE OPENED

“I did.”

Cole looked from the ruined valley to Adam.

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It is the only one you need tonight.”

Adam started down the ridge.

Mason did not follow.

The young rogue stood beside the broken White Ridge marker, staring at Adam’s back.

Cole stopped beside him. “What?”

Mason kept his voice low. “White Ridge fell almost two hundred years ago.”

Cole looked down at Adam.

The blacksmith moved through the snow like a man in his forties. There was gray at his temples, but nothing about him looked two hundred years old.

“You’re sure?” Cole asked.

“Every rogue knows the story. White Ridge’s Alpha opened the eastern gate during a siege. The enemy entered. By morning, the Pack was gone.”

Cole remembered Adam’s answer.

I did.

“Maybe the story is wrong.”

Mason looked at him. “You’ve known Adam for three days.”

“He saved both of us.”

“That doesn’t make the story wrong.”

Adam stopped farther down the slope.

“If you two are finished whispering, we need shelter before dark.”

Mason raised his voice. “Why here?”

“Because the hunters won’t cross the old boundary after sunset.”

“There is no boundary. You said there is no White Ridge.”

“The Pack is gone. Some of its protections remain.”

Mason looked toward the ruined buildings. “Protections against what?”

Adam continued walking.

“That wasn’t an answer either,” Cole said.

“No,” Adam replied. “You’re learning.”

Cole followed him down the ridge.

Mason remained beside the marker for another moment before limping after them.

The valley had once held dozens of homes. Most had collapsed into low walls and broken beams. Snow covered the roads, but Cole could still see where they had led toward the large stone building at the center.

The meeting hall had lost half its roof.

A pair of wooden doors still stood at the entrance.

Deep claw marks crossed both of them.

Cole touched one of the grooves as they passed.

The wood had been burned around the edges.

“Did the enemy do this?” he asked.

Adam looked at the marks. “No.”

“Who did?”

“I did.”

Mason gave Cole a pointed look.

Cole ignored him.

Inside the hall, broken benches surrounded a circular stone floor. A rusted iron ring hung above an empty fire pit. Part of the far wall had collapsed, but the remaining stone blocked most of the wind.

Someone had swept the snow away from the center.

Cole noticed before Adam did.

“There are no footprints outside,” Cole said.

Adam stopped.

Mason smelled the air. “Someone’s been here.”

A bundle of fresh herbs hung beside the ruined fireplace.

A clay cup sat on one of the benches.

Adam dropped the food bag.

“Behind me.”

Cole and Mason moved back as Adam stepped toward the center of the hall.

The moment Adam’s boot touched the circular stone floor, black lines flashed beneath the dust.

Chains burst from the ground.

One wrapped around Adam’s ankle.

Another caught his wrist.

Adam twisted away from the third, but the first two chains pulled tight and dragged him to one knee.

The metal was dark, almost black.

Silver symbols burned along every link.

Mason began to shift.

“Don’t,” Adam ordered.

Mason stopped with claws already pushing through his fingertips.

A woman stepped from behind the broken fireplace.

She wore a long coat stitched from several different pieces of dark leather. Her hair was nearly black, but a strip of white ran from her temple to the end of one braid.

Her eyes were violet.

Not pale blue.

Not gray.

Violet, with narrow pupils like a cat’s.

The woman looked directly at Adam.

“You came back.”

Adam tested the chains once.

They tightened around his wrist.

“Hello, Cora.”

Cora crossed the hall slowly.

Cole kept one hand near the knife at his belt.

“You know her?” he asked.

Adam’s eyes remained on Cora. “Yes.”

Cora stopped in front of him.

“For one hundred and eighty-seven years,” she said, “I wondered what I would do if you walked through those doors again.”

Mason looked at Cole.

Cole understood the look.

The stories had not exaggerated Adam’s age.

Cora crouched beside Adam and touched one of the silver symbols. The chain tightened until blood appeared around Adam’s wrist.

Adam did not react.

Cora smiled without warmth.

“I expected more.”

“You always did.”

Cora struck him across the face.

The sound moved through the empty hall.

Cole stepped forward.

Mason caught his arm.

“Wait.”

“She’s hurting him.”

“She trapped him before he smelled the ward. What do you think she’ll do to you?”

Cole looked at the black lines beneath the floor.

The symbols formed a circle around Adam. Four chains connected the circle to iron wolf heads set into the stone walls.

Cora stood.

Her gaze moved to Cole and Mason for the first time.

“One injured rogue and one child.” She looked back at Adam. “You always did collect things you couldn’t protect.”

Adam’s expression changed.

“Leave them out of this.”

“You brought them into White Ridge.”

“I brought them somewhere the hunters wouldn’t follow.”

“You brought hunters to our border?”

“They’re gone.”

“They always come back.”

Cora reached inside her coat and removed a narrow bone knife.

Mason’s claws lengthened again.

Cole pulled away from him.

“Put that down,” Cole told Cora.

Cora looked at him.

“You think because he gave you a knife, he belongs to you?”

“No.”

“Then step aside.”

“No.”

Adam’s voice hardened. “Cole.”

Cole did not look at him.

Cora studied the rough square on Cole’s coat where the Frost Fang crest had been removed.

“Exiled?”

Cole said nothing.

“Of course.” Cora looked at Adam again. “That is what you do now? Wait outside Pack borders for abandoned children?”

“I found him bleeding in the forest.”

“You found White Ridge bleeding too.”

Cora pressed the point of the bone knife beneath Adam’s chin.

Cole drew his knife.

Mason caught his shoulder this time.

Cole turned on him. “Let go.”

“She wants you to attack,” Mason whispered.

“Why?”

“So the ward recognizes you as a threat.”

Cole looked down.

The black lines had spread beyond Adam’s circle.

One thin branch of light had reached the toe of Cole’s boot.

He stepped back.

The line stopped moving.

Cora’s violet eyes narrowed slightly.

Cole understood.

She was watching to see whether he noticed.

“This isn’t just a trap for Adam,” Cole said.

“No,” Cora replied. “It is a grave for anyone who tries to free him.”

Adam looked toward Cole. “Take Mason and leave.”

Cole almost laughed.

“You told me not to abandon someone because saving them was difficult.”

“I also told you not to walk into traps you understand.”

“I don’t understand this one.”

“Then leave.”

Cora pushed the knife hard enough to break the skin beneath Adam’s jaw.

“You should listen to him. Running is the lesson he teaches best.”

Adam’s voice remained controlled. “Tell him the rest.”

Cora’s hand stopped.

“You want the child to judge you?”

“No. I want him to know what kind of man he is following.”

Cora rose.

The chains pulled Adam’s arms farther apart.

Mason moved closer to Cole.

“What happened here?” Cole asked.

Cora pointed the bone knife toward the eastern side of the valley.

“The Pack was surrounded. Three enemy Packs held the north, west, and south. White Ridge had one defensible gate left.”

“The eastern gate,” Cole said.

“Yes.”

Cora looked down at Adam.

“He opened it.”

“Why?”

Adam answered before Cora could.

“There were children trapped inside the lower caves.”

Cora’s mouth tightened. “Twelve children. Six mothers.”

“The enemy had set fire to the tunnels.”

“And seventy White Ridge wolves were holding the eastern wall.”

Adam looked at Cole.

“If I kept the gate closed, the wall might have held until morning.”

“The Pack might have survived,” Cora said.

“The children would not have.”

Cole looked around the ruined hall.

“What did you do?”

“I opened the gate,” Adam said. “I sent the children and their mothers through first.”

“And the enemy followed them in,” Mason said.

Adam nodded.

Cora’s violet eyes did not leave Adam.

“The eastern wall fell before midnight. The fighting reached this hall before dawn.”

Cole looked at the claw marks on the doors.

“You made those.”

“I held the doors while the survivors escaped through the rear passage.”

“How many survived?”

Adam did not answer.

Cora did.

“Twenty-three.”

“And the children?”

“All twelve lived.”

Silence filled the hall.

Cole looked at Adam’s bleeding wrist.

“You saved them.”

Cora turned on him. “He destroyed the Pack.”

“He opened a way out.”

“He was the Alpha. His duty was to White Ridge.”

“The children were White Ridge.”

Cora’s face went still.

Adam closed his eyes briefly.

Cole remembered Frost Fang’s southern gate closing behind him.

His father had protected the Pack by throwing one child outside.

Adam had destroyed his Pack by opening a gate for twelve.

Cole looked at Cora.

“What happened after the battle?”

“The survivors stripped him of his title,” Cora said. “They ordered him out of the valley.”

“You let them?”

Adam opened his eyes. “I was their Alpha when White Ridge fell. They had the right to choose whether I remained.”

“You could have forced them to keep you.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

Cora laughed bitterly. “Do not make that sound noble. He left us with graves, broken walls, and three enemy Packs circling the survivors.”

Adam looked at her. “I thought you left with the others.”

“I stayed.”

“To do what?”

“To keep what remained from being taken.”

The black symbols in the floor brightened.

Cole smelled blood.

Not Adam’s.

Cora’s hand had closed so tightly around the bone knife that its edge cut into her palm. Her blood ran down the handle and dropped onto the circle.

The chains pulled Adam flat against the stone.

The silver symbols burned brighter.

Adam’s skin began to smoke beneath the links.

Cole drew his knife again.

Mason grabbed his wrist.

“You cross the line, the ward takes you too.”

“Then help me break it.”

“I don’t know magic.”

“Neither do I.”

Cora watched Adam struggle to breathe.

“You said you would come back,” she told him.

“I tried.”

“For how long?”

“Thirty years.”

Cora flinched.

Adam forced the words through clenched teeth.

“Every road into the valley turned me away. Every time I crossed the ridge, I woke outside the boundary.”

Cora looked down at the symbols.

Her anger faltered.

“I didn’t build that part of the ward.”

“No,” Adam said. “The surviving elders did.”

Cora stared at him.

The chains continued tightening.

Cole looked from the silver links to the four iron wolf heads set into the walls.

The symbols were not drawing power from Cora.

They were drawing it from Adam’s blood.

Each time the chain cut deeper, the lines grew brighter.

“It feeds when he fights it,” Cole said.

Cora did not answer.

Adam stopped pulling against the chains.

The symbols dimmed slightly.

Cole looked at the four anchors.

All four chains connected to the same circle, but only three iron wolf heads had open mouths.

The fourth had been crushed by part of the collapsed wall.

Its chain lay loose across the floor.

Cole followed it with his eyes.

The broken chain passed beneath a fallen beam and entered Adam’s circle from behind.

It was not holding him.

It was completing the ward.

Cole pointed toward it. “Mason.”

Mason saw the loose chain.

“If we pull it out, the circle breaks.”

“And the ward takes whoever touches it.”

“Not if we never cross the line.”

Cole removed the rope from Adam’s bag.

He tied one end around the handle of his knife.

Then he threw the blade across the floor.

The knife landed beyond the glowing line, close to the loose chain.

Cora looked at him. “What are you doing?”

Cole pulled the rope.

The knife scraped across the stone and caught beneath one of the chain links.

“Mason, help.”

Mason wrapped both hands around the rope.

Together they pulled.

The chain shifted an inch.

The ward flashed.

The knife blade turned red from the heat.

“Again,” Cole said.

They pulled harder.

The loose chain slid from beneath the fallen beam.

Cora stepped toward them.

“If you break the circle, you release him.”

Cole looked at Adam.

Adam had saved him.

Adam had also kept the truth from him.

Both things were real.

“He gets to answer for what he did,” Cole said. “But not while he’s chained to the floor.”

Cora stared at him.

Cole and Mason pulled one final time.

The loose chain crossed the edge of the circle.

The black symbols shattered.

Every chain released at once.

Adam rolled onto one side, coughing.

The silver marks on his wrists began healing almost immediately.

Cora stood over him with the bone knife still in her hand.

Adam pushed himself to his knees.

He did not attack her.

He did not reach for a weapon.

Cora’s grip slowly loosened.

“You would open the gate again,” she said.

Adam looked at the ruined doors.

“Yes.”

Cora struck him again.

This time Adam accepted it without moving.

Then Cora dropped the bone knife.

Mason released the rope.

Cole walked into the broken circle and handed Adam his knife.

Adam did not take it immediately.

“You disobeyed me.”

“You told me to leave.”

“Yes.”

“You also told me anything that follows me becomes my responsibility.”

Adam looked at him.

“I did not follow you.”

“You carried me here.”

For the first time since entering the valley, some of the weight left Adam’s face.

He took the knife.

Cora looked at Cole more closely.

Her gaze moved to the black cord around his neck.

The cracked yellow tooth had slipped outside his shirt during the struggle.

Cora stopped breathing.

She crossed the space between them before Cole could step back.

Her fingers closed around the tooth.

Heat shot through it.

Cole slapped her hand away and reached for his knife, forgetting Adam held it.

Cora stared at him.

“Who gave you that?”

“My mother.”

“What is her name?”

Cole hesitated.

“Mira.”

Cora’s violet pupils narrowed.

Adam rose behind her.

“Cora.”

She ignored him.

Her attention remained fixed on the tooth.

Cole closed his hand around it.

“It’s mine.”

“No,” Cora said quietly. “It was hers.”

Cole stepped back.

“What do you know about it?”

Cora looked from the tooth to Cole’s face.

“That isn’t a charm.”

The ruined hall seemed to go silent around them.

Cora touched the blood on her palm.

“It’s a lock.”