Chapter 31: Blood for Blood
Thorne
The scent of rot and sweat hit me the moment we stepped past the jagged rocks marking the rogue borderlands. The sky above was overcast—gray, heavy, oppressive—as if it could sense the violence simmering in my veins.
Williams had led us here, to this rotting shithole of broken wolves and discarded loyalties, and for once, I was glad to have a reason to tear something apart.
Kiel stepped forward immediately, nodding toward a group of rogues crouched around a makeshift fire. They stiffened at the sight of us—three Alphas flanked by Betas, their eyes flickering between fear and aggression. I could already see the tension forming, already taste the violence in the air.
Then Kiel spoke. Not in English. Not in any language I knew.
It was deep. Guttural. Rolling off his tongue like a series of growls and snarls—something ancient. Rogue-speak. A secret tongue they hadn’t lost even when they’d lost everything else.
Thick silence followed his words.
One of the rogues, a tall brute with a jagged scar down his chest, stood. He spat to the side and growled something back. Kiel nodded. Said something else. This went on for a while, until finally, he turned to us, his expression grim.
"They say Alpha Jake’s cousin was the one who sent men to intercept us."
Varen’s brows pulled tight. "How sure are they?"
"They’ve seen the insignia. And there’s been whispers for weeks—rumors. Movement in the shadows. Apparently, this cousin’s been gathering men under the table, playing dirty."