House of Illiad

For our fears and faults, all blood must be equal, an uneven challenge would devolve the world into chaos. It is the duty of every clan to ensure the great survival.

—treaty of Vanderburgh

“One will only subjugate, not annihilate!”

The words kept repeating in the prince's head over and over like a song on a loop. It had become a mantra to him as the swift war he had hoped for edged into it's fifth week. The blood and gore that was once a myth had solidified itself into an everyday reality, that was now the norm.

Tonight though, something was different. A messenger had lured him out with sweet promises of a solution to his current predicament, and like a fish to a dangled worm, he had taken the bait. Five kilometers from the safety of his tent, away from his army, six of his closest warriors lay lifeless, their limbs torn from toe to finger.

What could do this? His best had been wasted in a glimpse, snuffed out in a blur he had only heard stomping, felt wind brush past him, and smelt the tangy rancid coppery air. "Go, move!" His captain of the guard shouted, pushing him in the direction of their encampment, but that would only prove futile. For a moment the young warrior was surprised his guardian was still alive.

Prince Callum never saw it, he had always assumed he would watch his slow begrudging end, wasting away of old age, but here it was and the regret gnawed at him. Whatever this foe was, it had severed his leg breaking the thighbone in one swing. Dew on his face, he tried to forget the pain. It was clear to the prince they wanted him alive, and like the others his Captain fell in the second that followed, the prince's earlier surprise proving true.

He scrambled his brain for anything that could point to the identity of his attackers, anything to help him survive this, still his mind failed him, there was nothing – not until she appeared. The prince had felt her gaze earlier, how long she had been watching, he had no idea. The feminine figure had been there, observing and studying its prey, but it was only now that some light shone on her. Naked, proud and barefoot, the forest seemed to bow at her grace and from the shadows of a once rainy night, four others followed, a woman and three men. Werewolves?

The stench overwhelmed him, he coughed and started laughing. How did I miss this? And these weren't the ones they were used to, these were the ones Marissa had mentioned. The ones he had chosen to forget, the ones all vampires were taught to avoid, the Incigeri. "You have something of ours."

"If all you wanted . . ." he groaned, the pain a tease to a possible future. "You could have just asked, there was no need for all this."

"As if you would ever converse with a mutt, but then again maybe you would. After all you've been fucking one of ours." The thuds that followed were obvious to everyone, deafening in their pursuit to expose his fears. How did they know? Who else knew? I need to get away from here. "Colour me surprised. I thought that little bit to be false, who knew I could be wrong," the woman said ever so comfortably as if she had all the time in the world.

Callum saw his chance and took a breath, the world went still. He looked at the man slouched at the back, an eye contact held for a moment too long and he had him where he wanted. The man, who had become half beast growled and slashed at his friend taking an entire chunk of his stomach with him before moving to the second woman whose shock froze her in place as her head was ripped from her head.

Callum sneered through the berserk werewolf, he would kill them all tonight. Another one fell until they were only two left but that was as far as his luck would take him. His slave couldn't react fast enough as the leader went for him and ripped his body to pieces. Face bloodied and her knee on Callum's back she put her hand below his neck, the soft tissue below the mouth giving her talons access as she pulled and ripped, breaking his neck and detaching the head.

The lifeless prince lay unceremoniously on the damp green grass, his blood the only indication he had been alive a few hours earlier. This would not be acceptable for the Illiads, and the two lycans knew to cover their tracks. Fortunately, this silly war would do it for them.