Chapter 249: New Claws
"You can rest assured, Alpha Burke," Darach said, "I have no plans of letting my sister anywhere near Milo. Hell, I don’t even want her anywhere near me."
In the back, Blaise, Damon, and I all snorted in unison, keeping our laughter contained as much as we could. The ire in Darach’s voice was all but clear― there was none of his concern left for her in him.
Previously, Darach hadn’t been too happy about Damon’s marriage with Dahlia due to whatever messed up love he still had for his sister. It seemed to be all but gone now. Perhaps the loss of his wolf was the final straw that broke the camel’s back.
"Hornstead is situated a little closer to Thunderstrike than Fangborne," Blaise said. "Milo could just meet Darach directly there."
"Great," Damon said, clapping his hands enthusiastically. No one could miss the joy splashed across his face. "That means that the nerd can fuck out of Fangborne at long last."
Alpha Burke merely cleared his throat in the background, having all but heard our conversation. He said nothing, however, and only sighed.
"If Milo is sure, he will join Alpha Darach at Thunderstrike when he returns," Alpha Burke said. "Until then, we will be touching up the loose strands."
"Thank you for agreeing, Alpha Burke," Darach immediately said. "And Milo, thanks."
His voice seemed ready to crack a little at the end and I knew exactly why. Milo hadn’t been too enthusiastic to see us when we had first arrived at Hornstead― it didn’t seem like he was close friends with Darach at that time. Yet, now that Darach needed help, he didn’t hesitate to reach out a helping hand.
If I were Darach, I would be touched as well. At this rate, Hornstead would continue to be in good hands even after Alpha Burke retired in the future.
"I still am not too thrilled about this," Alpha Burke grumbled in the background. "But I suppose at least this means that Thunderstrike and Hornstead’s relationship is slowly getting fixed after the mess your sister created."
And that was something important, evidently by the manner Damon’s lips were crooked into a subtle smile.
***
"They will escort you to Thunderstrike’s borders," Damon said. "But you will have to head in yourself. If you get assassinated within Thunderstrike, that’s on you."
"What Damon means to say is," I corrected, "be careful. You don’t know what your father and sister might be planning for you when you get back."
"I know," Darach replied with a snort. He tested the small weapon in his hand, throwing it up and down to test the weight of it.
A month had passed, and since then, Darach’s recovery had been smooth. His wolf had not returned despite Nicole’s rigorous testing and experimental treatment, and day by day, it seemed like Darach had started to accept this new reality a little more than the last.
For the last month, word had been sent that Thorton Elrod would still look over operations in Thunderstrike until Darach’s return. However, the council had specifically listed in the letter that if Thorton Elrod refused to hand over the rule of Thunderstrike to Darach upon his return, he would be going against the order of the council.
That would be going to war against everyone who voted against him in court, Fangborne in particular.
"Does it still hurt?" I asked, eyeing the layer of metal that covered Darach’s knuckles.
"Yes," he replied truthfully. He flexed and unflexed his fingers, watching as claws sprang out of the thin silver that covered his knuckles whenever he triggered it. He played with it for a bit as his eyes remained trained on the item. "But it definitely doesn’t sting as badly as it did last time."
Darach might not have a wolf any longer but for some reason, his vulnerability to silver and wolfsbane did not subside. On the other hand, even though I was part werewolf, for some reason, it did not affect me at all.
We weren’t sure why that was the case; perhaps it was because Darach was born as a full werewolf and I was not. Or maybe it was because Darach had a chance of regaining what was once lost.
Either way, Darach had spent the last month attempting to build a resistance against silver, just like the wolves of Ironclaw. It no longer burned him badly but it was still uncomfortable to touch. It might be a small advantage, but it was an advantage nevertheless.
"If they tried anything, you could always use this against them," Blaise said, gesturing to the weapon Darach wore on his hands. "They might not be the same as your wolf claws, but..."
"They’re still claws," Damon said. "It will be useful against enemies within your pack. And there’s bound to be plenty."
Darach eyed Damon as he spoke, mixed emotions swirling in his eyes. It had been Damon’s idea, after all, for weapons to be made for Darach. In fact, it had been Damon’s own design.
It was similar to brass knuckles, fixed on Darach’s hand like a fingerless glove. A thin layer of leather and steel separated Darach’s skin from the silver, while the external body of the weapon was made entirely of silver, including the claws that would extend upon hitting a trigger. Whenever Darach clenched his hands into a fist, he could choose to trigger the blades to extend, hence attacking with it if needed.
The weapon was useful indeed, especially since he no longer had his wolf to protect him. However, silver was his next best choice. The leather and steel were meant for Darach to wear it more comfortably as well― it might not sting him immediately, but wearing this sort of thing for hours on end would eventually still cause his skin to blister and tear.
"This doesn’t mean we’re even," Darach finally spat out, glaring hard at Damon. "If you’re just using this to ease your guilt, then―"
"I never thought it would," Damon said, his voice oddly soft.
His lips parted before closing, but no further words left his lips. In the end, Damon shook his head and turned, returning back to House Sirius.
"Make sure you don’t die immediately!" he yelled without turning back, raising one hand to wave, leaving Blaise and I standing there, along with Kaine’s team, who would be escorting Darach back to Thunderstrike.
"He’s such a fucking asshole," Darach muttered under his breath.
Blaise could only awkwardly laugh. "He’s not good with words," he said. "But Damon is sorry for everything he did."
"I’m sure he is," Darach said with a roll of his eyes, though it was obvious he did not genuinely think whatever he said. He then turned to me. "Are you sure you wouldn’t consider coming to Thunderstrike with me? I still need a charlie."
"I―"
I was just about to reply when suddenly, something nearly smashed into the back of my head if it weren’t for Blaise’s reflexes. He pulled me out of the way just in time, a small gasp escaping my lips as the rock smashed into the tree ahead, leaving a dent in the bark. If I hadn’t moved, that would’ve been me.
"Get out of Fangborne, human scum!"
