Chapter 348: The Weight of War
RETH
Reth sat with his back to the wall of the tree, staring at the mangled body, his breath still too fast and quick despite how long it had been since he'd wrestled back control.
Reth wasn't a liar. He really hadn't let his beast hunt in months, precisely because he really did struggle to regain control when he did.
He'd told the prisoner that. But he hadn't believed him. Now they were here.
Reth felt sick.
Movement in the corner of his eye made adrenalin shoot through his system and he almost startled. But it was just the guards.
"Sire, are—"
"Leave me," he said hoarsely. He needed time to accommodate this. To prepare for the next one.
There was a hesitation. "But—"
"LEAVE ME!" he roared.
The guards scrambled over each other to get the door open and get themselves outside. They were strong and true, but those two had just watched their King hunt a prisoner. They were on edge—but that they still cared about him was a small balm. He knew he'd frightened them, shifting like that. But they understood the need.
His eyes fell on the twisted, broken body in front of him. Did he have a mate, Reth wondered? Was their bond true—did she know he was gone? What about pups? He was young, likely his parents were still alive. Were they with the rebels, or here in the Tree City? Would Reth have a grieving couple in the market when they heard?
Would he have to apologize to peace-loving parents because he'd allowed his beast to hunt their son?
An image flashed in his head, in the watery, uncertain way of memories born of the Beast. The male leaping to his feet and trying to run, looking back over his shoulder, his eyes wide. And the Beast leaping, claws extended, to rake down his back and bear him to the ground.
As hunting went, it hadn't been satisfying. The beast had allowed him to get up and run more than once. Until he couldn't anymore.
He hadn't shifted. Which meant he was disformed. A disformed that Lerrin—or his people—had given what had to be one of the most prominent roles in the war.
And Reth's beast had killed him, like a cat playing with a mouse.
Exactly like that.
What a fucking waste.
Reth pulled his knees up, dropped his head in his hands and swallowed back the urge to weep like a cub.
He had some time before he had to go to the other tree. He'd discussed it with Behryn, and then with Tobe. He'd known the plan was good.
When he'd asked which of the prisoners was more likely to break, everyone agreed it was the second male, in the tree closer to the edge of the City. So the decision to approach this one first had been intentional—use the resistance of the first to frighten the second and make them more malleable.
That's why he'd let the beast play. The screams… they were a tool.
A gut-wrenching, traumatizing, never-get-it-out-of-my-head tool.
Because this was war and war meant death. But death meant saving lives. It was a sick and sorry truth that Reth hated.
And now he hated himself too, for not finding a way around it.
So he sat in the near-silent tree, and stared at the body and the blood, and did his best not to remember what he'd just witnessed, what he'd just allowed. Instead, he focused on what he still had yet to do.
He had to confront the other prisoner and convince them to speak.
If they did not, he had to kill them.
And then he had to figure out how the wolves had gotten so close.
He dropped his head in his hands again. What would Elia think of this? What would she tell him to do?
And would he do it?
He didn't know. He was a tangled mess of emotion and fear, confusion and doubt. Behryn near death and Hollhye determined to take him away completely. Elia with only one Anima guardian and possibly shifting when she had no control, and no one there who could train her. His people torn in two and fighting each other.
What the hell had he done? How had it come to this?
He was suddenly exhausted and it was barely mid-afternoon. And he likely had another killing ahead of him.
At what point was the cost of war too high? At what point did surrender make sense?
Reth turned it over in his mind, what the Tree City would look like under Lupine rule.
Lerrin sitting at the head table, his chilling eyes darting around the room. His second, Asta, next to him, and likely his mate by now.
And before them…
Before them only wolves.
Reth blinked, but he could still see it.
The wolves took dominance literally. If they ruled the Tree City, only wolves would be in positions of power. Only wolves would receive accolades. Only wolves would have a choice! He could see the market, the front half full of wolves and perhaps a few of their allies. But very clearly dominated by the pack.
Then the rest of the people spread out from there. Separated entirely by Tribes, because history told him whenever a leader targeted a bloodline, the other bloodlines began to isolate—out of self-protection if nothing else.
The histories were very clear: The fastest way for politics to create war in the Anima was to decide that a solitary tribe needed to be contained, or eradicated. Because even those tribes that aligned with the leaders soon discovered their differences. And instinctively knew, if they would do with you, they'd do it to you.
The Tree City would be remade in a pack-heirarchy, choosing bloodline over merit. And always, always the wolf-family first.
The other tribes would be weakened if they fought. Anima would become a place of hate and fear.
Reth slammed his fist into the floor next to him and shoved to his feet.
No. It would not happen. Anima would not be segregated under his rule. The tribes would be unified, not pushed behind fences!
He stormed out of the Tree, ignoring the guards who trotted up behind him as he stalked towards the other Tree, just two hundred feet away so that the wolves would have been certain to create a mind link—if they were capable of it.
He hoped this male had seen his brother die. He hoped this male would be ready to talk. He truly had no more appetite for blood today, but he would allow it. He would give his beast the call to hunt if that was what was needed. That was what leaders did.
The guards that circled the second tree jumped to attention when he appeared, offering salute, but he ignored them too. He waited outside the door for his guards to enter first so they could be certain there were no traps.
When the door opened wider a moment later, Reth strode in, focused on his Alpha power and letting everyone feel it.
But one of the guards reached a hand back as he passed through the door into the tree. "Reth, I'm not sure that—"
He'd been about to snarl at the male when his eyes landed on the prisoner and his stomach flipped over, threatening to revolt.
The prisoner had plastered themselves against the opposite wall in fear, eyes wide, looking as if they tried to press themselves through it bodily.
The prisoner was a female.
Reth swore.
*****
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