Greykin Valley

| 46 | Bloody Glade

"It's a popular story among lycans," he started. "Some believe that there lives a two-faced wolf in the forest of Dor-Sanguis."

His curiosity grew, and he appreciated the fact that Damon was trying to create conversation. Like Jackson, it seemed as though the Alpha didn't want to let the fight with Wilson make things difficult and awkward for everyone.

The Alpha quietly explained, "A few hundred years ago, Deltas could evolve into Amaroks; huge, blue-furred creatures which looked a lot like my Prime form. They had no humanity left, nothing worth saving. They were mindless killers. But one Amarok, thought to have once been a Crescent King, had moments where he'd snap out of the Amarok's insanity. He was at war with himself, fighting for control of his own body. The stories say that he fought so hard that the Amarok's body grew another head; the Crescent King couldn't win back his mind, so he created himself a new one."

Jackson's frown thickened. "So...the Crescent King's consciousness was alive in this new head, and the Amarok's was in the other?"

Damon nodded. "Correct. But they both wanted control of the body. Once again, they fought for ownership, but they grew tired, and the Amarok proposed a deal. If the Crescent King would allow the beast its rampage at night, the King could control the body during daylight. It was said that an Amarok's venom was so potent that it killed anyone bitten in moments. But the King didn't want to let it kill thousands of innocent people, and whenever the Amarok's head bit someone, the King would bite at the same time. His venom would dilute the Amarok's, and it was a painful process for the victims, but the combination would turn them into wolf walkers in moments."

"So they just created a bunch of new wolf walkers together?"

"That's why they named him Filtiarn; it means Lord of the Wolves. Over time, the Amarok and the King became one consciousness, although both heads still remained. The stories say Filtiarn now prowls the lands at night in search of humans to turn into wolf walkers."

Jackson pondered as he looked out at the glade again. "Is it a true story?"

Damon laughed quietly. "If it were, I don't think wolf walkers would be as few in numbers as we are. But perhaps he was real hundreds of years ago when our kind flourished."

"Do you think the Howler is real?" Jackson asked curiously.

The Alpha glanced at him. "Maybe. Like Brando said, after everything we've seen, anything could be out there. My point in sharing this story, though, is the fact that Julian said Kane might be descended from a Crescent King. All Crescent wolves are prone to extreme violence and horrific warpaths, and a lot of wolves believe that Filtiarn is the cause. Everything we've heard about Kane is starting to add up, and if he is of Crescent blood, he has just as much ancestral knowledge as I do."

Jackson was starting to feel a whole lot more unnerved. "What...does that mean for us?"

"He won't stop his hunt until we're all dead, but that will be his downfall. He'll keep sending wolves, and we'll keep killing them until his numbers have fallen so drastically that he'll have no defences left to hide behind. He'll have to face us himself, and I'll tear him apart."

Something shuffled behind them.

They both sharply turned their heads, and Jackson's heart started racing as angst struck him.

But it was only Sebastien. The hound had just landed, and as he folded his wings against his sides, he exhaled quietly. "Fifteen wolves just over a mile out. Their security was tight as fuck this time. I hope whatever you're planning can account for that."

"Elaborate," Damon grunted.

As he crouched into the snow, Sebastien said, "They've got that Gamma with them—the one Julian told us about. Ellis, the Beta from before, and several tough-looking fights. I didn't get their ranks, but if the Gamma's there, I'm sure there are Epsilons."