Catch, Curse, Release (Immortal Warriors #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Twenty: Cool as Ice

Eric cut Randor off before he could get any further, “I sit as ruler of Wolfgard because of the line of my fathers, captain,” he corrected sharply. “I am an immortal warrior and only son of Lord Ruairidh, and like my father before me I will marry the only woman the gods have seen fit to rule at my side.”

“It is foolish to…”

“Be mindful of your tongue, Captain,” Eric rose slowly, using his size and bearing to intimidate and threaten the bloodthirsty wolf.  “A commander with no tongue will not command for very long, of that you can be sure.”

Wolves governed with shows of dominance and strength, and by taking down their enemies in a pack. However, alone in battle a wolf like Randor stood little chance against a warrior like Eric. It was true of most immortal warriors; where wolves depended on the pack to take down a larger, stronger foe, warriors could do so alone. It was one of the reasons Oren was desperate for some form of allegiance with his clan. Any form of union between immortals and wolves would make for an almost unstoppable force – a force to make all other clans stop and reconsider their loyalties.

Eric knew exactly what sort of wolf had been sent to deliver Oren’s message; Randor was second to Oren in dominance and leadership. Next to the Alpha himself, Randor was the strongest male, though perhaps not yet strong enough to wrestle pack control from the old wolf. If Oren wanted his captain’s head sent back in a bag, then he’d gladly oblige the ruler of the Fenrir.

Eric did not attempt to guard these thoughts from the wily captain. It was as clear as the power that flowed off him – a show of true strength and right to rule.

“I meant no offense, sire,” Randor said, bowing his head in contrition.  

Eric let his power grow until he saw the hair on the wolf’s body rise in response. He pushed against the wolf, using his power to intimidate. Odvin, Randor’s man shifted uneasily but did not move from his position by the door.

Randor was on his own.

Oren’s captain kept his head bowed, waiting for Eric to speak first as was customary among wolves who’d overstepped their boundaries. Only when Eric was sure the point had been made did he speak again, “You have my hospitality for this night captain, but do not confuse my generosity with weakness. You may convey to Lord Oren what I have already conveyed to his daughter and her escort: Meghan will make a fine match for another ruler but Wolfgard will wait for its proper queen.”

Randor bowed deeply from the waist before straightening, “As you wish, Lord McKenna.”

Eric stared at Randor for a moment longer, making it clear to everyone who was the dominant male between them. When he was satisfied that there would be no further confusion, he spoke directly to Aiden, “Captain, see that Randor and his men have every amenity at their disposal,” he ordered.

“It is done, my lord,” Aiden replied.

“You and your men may feast in the main dining hall, Captain Randor so long as your men understand the rules of my house.”

“It would be an honor, Lord McKenna,” he glanced from Eric to Aiden and back again, his voice taking on a distinctly different tone, “The human female…”

“What of her?” Eric asked curtly. The trace of bodily harm was a promise laced in every word.

Easy, cousin.

Keep out of it, Aiden.  

“Will she be performing this evening?” Randor asked carefully.  

“It is in the realm of possibility,” Eric replied.  

“It would be an honor for me and my men to hear the human female perform this night. Should the lady be so inclined,” he added.