The five hours went by incredibly fast. Russel was rushing around, finalizing all the last minute plans, coordinating with the human envoy, arranging any horses that might be needed and other, more taxing, leadership responsibilities. So far, being the king of Oclan was not doing much for him other than adding heaps of stress onto his already stressful life. He supposed that was to be expected. If he was honest with himself, he wished he hadn’t been forced to issue the Blood Challenge to his father. Winning it not only put a target on his back about a mile wide but made his life much more complicated than he liked.

“The humans are almost ready,” Roland said from behind Russel.

He didn’t turn around and barely acknowledged his brother’s presence. There was no real point in doing that. It would only give Ro more chances to argue with him in front of everyone, making him look weak again. He didn’t need to add more fuel to that particular fire. He was proving more than capable of doing that himself.

“Five hours exactly,” Russel said, checking the timepiece he had on him. It had been exactly four hours and fifty-seven minutes. The humans had three minutes left. “That’s what I told the human. If they aren’t ready, then we leave them behind.”

“You think he’s going to like you doing that?” Ro asked. “Because you’ve been real quick to bend over and take all his bullshit right up your ass. What’s different now?”

Russel felt it rising again, that anger. That seething, boiling frustration. Several images flashed through his head, each one showing some variation of the same thing: him ripping Roland to shreds.

I knew he was going to be a problem, he thought to himself. I knew he was going to be a problem. I knew he was going to be a problem.

He kept repeating that for a few seconds more inside his head, hoping it would do something to stave off the rush of anger for a little bit at least. It wasn’t working all that well. He turned to Roland, his arm whipping out to deliver a disrespectful backhanded slap across his brother’s cheek. He didn’t even see it coming.

“You might be the oldest of us siblings but do not forget who killed father and who gained his throne. I will not hesitate to kill you, Roland.” He stared hard at his brother, his eyes unyielding. He didn’t want to have to kill him. Despite all the ugly, hateful things he kept saying and all the awful beatings delivered in the past, he held no malice toward him. Toward any of them. Now that he was king, he found their petty resentment toward him trivial. But if one of them kept trying to test him, he would be forced to take more drastic measures just to keep everyone else in line. It was a sad but necessary evil in Oclan and one he kept desperately hoping he would not have to take.

“So you keep saying,” Roland muttered, mostly to himself. “It’s been three minutes. Let’s meet up with the others and get this dumb mission of yours started.”

Roland bowed but managed to make the gesture of respect look incredibly sarcastic. Then he turned and walked down to the courtyard. Russel watched him go, wondering how long it was going to be before Roland decided to try his luck and actually take his first shot. He expected it would be sooner rather than later, but how much sooner? He didn’t relish the idea of keeping his awareness up constantly for someone coming for his head, but there didn’t seem to be much choice in the matter either.

With all of that trepidation and doubt of his shoved all the way to the back of his mind, Russel finally made his way to the courtyard as well. Almost in the direct center was the group of seven werewolves that were going to infiltrate Harvenk in order to kill Drake. There were his brothers, of course, Roland and Raylan. There was Kurk Rerdyn, a highly decorated ranger and unparalleled scout. Next up was Tris Noran, a capable soldier and brutal hand-to-hand fighter. Then there was Lilith Ehran, another ranger. Maks Onntler, a tracker. And finally, the last one and a complete beast in both man-form and wolf-form, was Aysir Yrynik.

As Russel approached them, they looked at him, slammed their fists against their hearts, and bowed out of respect for his position. He knew two of them personally and had counted them as lifelong friends. Aysir and Lilith.

“Ays. Lilith,” he said. “Good to see you two were willing to join me on this mission.”

“What’s more fun than crushin’ some ‘Venk skulls,” Aysir said with a broad grin. He slammed one of his massive fists into the palm of his other, equally large hand. “It’s been a while since I've had a good fight. I thought I was going to turn old and gray before another opportunity like this came up.”

“Ignore the idiot. He’s got more muscle than brains,” Lilith said. She smiled at Russel. “It’s been a while, Rus. I mean, My King.”

“Rus or Russel is fine for the likes of you lot.” He said this to all of them present. “We’re about to be deep in mud and blood. You’ve earned the right.”

“Aye, sir!” some of the others shouted, smiles on their faces too. It wasn’t common practice for royals to allow for that sort of thing but Russel figured it was an easy way to bond with them. Maybe even get them to trust in him.

“This mission will be full of peril and danger. There is a good chance you won’t be coming back. So I give you this one opportunity, right here and now. If you feel you are not up to this, you have my permission to leave.” Russel paused, his glance going from one person to the next, including his brothers. “You will not be punished and you will not be demoted. If we are to do this, then I want to make sure the men and women I fight with do so with honor and courage. It could mean the difference between life and death. So, one more time, does anyone want to be dismissed from this mission?”

He gave them all plenty of time to think it over but one after the other, they all refused to stay behind.

“I will fight with you, My King,” Aysir said, his eyes flashing with amber light.

“Same. Besides, who knows what trouble you two will get into without me, eh?” Lilith responded.

“It will be an honor to fight alongside you, Sire,” Tris said.

Kurt and Maks also pledged themselves to the fight, refusing to back down.

“It ain’t a good idea to do this but what the hell, brother. Might as well pick a fight and see what happens. I’ve been bored anyway,” Ray answered. He grinned at Rus, showing off his canines as he did.

“I ain’t leaving but you won’t get some ridiculous pledge from me,” Roland said. “Let’s just go and get this done. I don’t trust Reid and Rutger to keep things running smoothly while we’re gone.”

Russel nodded his head approvingly. He was glad to have the company of reliable fighters, scouts, and soldiers and lucky that his brothers weren’t fighting him on his every decision. At least for now they weren’t. He was confident in his guess that Roland had an agenda but he would just have to handle that when the time came. In terms of Ray, he was pretty sure he just wanted to fight some Harvenk werewolves and test his strength against theirs.

“All right then. Shoulder your packs and let’s move out,” Russel shouted.

****

Unknown to Russel, at that exact same moment, a figure was slipping into the line of humans marching their way out of the castle’s courtyard and into the main part of the capital. She blended in seamlessly, mostly through sheer attitude and pretending very hard that she belonged there when in fact, she did not.

It had been difficult to make it and on several occasions, she didn’t think she would. Zeo and Enok had clung to her every move like wet paper wrapped around an arm. They were hard to shake but fortune favors the bold and in this instance, Lola had been the boldest she’d ever been in her life. The hardest part was bringing herself to hurt the two servants. She didn’t hate them and knew they were only doing their jobs, but they had also been in her way. Obstacles to be removed. A powerful blow to Zeo’s temple, followed by a stunning roundhouse kick to the left side of Enok’s head, put the two of them down almost immediately.

As soon as they crumpled to the floor of her room, she went to them, laying her head on both their chests to make sure they were still breathing. Relief flooded her body when she felt the thumping of their hearts and the steady rising and falling of their chests. There was a moment when she felt cold panic settle in, thinking she had gone too far and killed them.

Like Nora. As soon as the name came into her head, so did the images of claws and blood and death. She had to suppress the physical need to shudder and force those haunting images out of her head, knowing that at any time, they would be back.

But not at that moment at least, because the two servants weren’t dead. They were alive. Knocked out cold, but alive.

As soon as she incapacitated the both of them, she ran to the wardrobe full of clothing Russel had delivered to her over the last week or so, and grabbed a black cloak with a hood that could conceal her face. She also grabbed a pack already stuffed full of more clothing and other supplies, something she’d had Bartholomew put together as a just-in-case measure. When she was ready, she ran out of her room and stealthily made her way through the castle to the courtyard where the werewolf raiding party and human entourage were supposed to be.

Then, with no one looking or really being aware of her at all, she fell in line with the other humans.