“Room service, ladies and gentlemen.”

A baritone voice spoke over the hissing of fire as water splashed onto it. The pack jumped into a wedge formation with Blenda taking the front, Igor and Josh the flanks, and the others the back. Guards filled the mouth of the cave while the leader stood two steps ahead of them. His presence matched his voice, calm and imposing. White smoke twirled behind him. Its acrid smell mixed with the heavy after rain scent made the atmosphere more claustrophobic. The man’s brown eyes shone in admiration. He smiled, protruding a long scar a shade darker than his tanned skin. It started from the middle of his left cheek and disappeared under the collar of his midnight blue cloak.

“Relax, soldiers. We’re here to ensure your safety. Please, follow us to the fort.”

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, the ten young fighters widened their stances and squared their shoulders.

“Where are the judges we demanded to meet?” Blenda asked, “Where are our friends?”

The man clasped his hands behind his back, only acknowledging Blenda with a subtle nod. He addressed the group, “That was an unfortunate situation, but I can’t divulge any information. You can ask all your questions in the fort.”

Provoked by his answer and the way he held himself. Blenda joined in his game of dominance. “We won’t follow you anywhere, and you can’t take us. Go back to your commanders and tell them that we demand an explanation.”

The man’s mouth quirked up in one corner, showing a white fang.

“We’re The Blue Cloaked Knights. We don’t answer to anyone except the king.”

Blenda’s gaze went to the royal emblem on the left chest of his cloak.

The Blue Cloaked Knights? The king’s secret army is real?

Will sprinted from his position in the back to the man’s side.

“What are you doing?” Adana hissed as she filled the gap he left.

“I’m going with them. The king is going to help us.”

“Will, come back. You can’t trust them,” Zuri said in her usual soft voice, but Will glared at her with shining green eyes, his wolf’s eyes. Her mate pulled her to the back and stood between them.

“They’re going to help us,” Will rumbled in an animalic voice while red fur stood at the back of his neck. The leader of the guards patted Will on the shoulder.

“Hold your wolf down, Will.”

He turned to the confused warriors.

“We’re in this together. There is no reason for distrust. We need to bring you to the fort. Yesterday’s task wasn’t part of the competition. Nobody should have left the fort. I can’t say more, please let’s get going.”

Murmurs ran through the group. Blenda locked eyes with Josh, who for the first time seemed lost.

“Blenda, I have strict orders to bring you back to the fort, or Alpha Arthur will have my head.”

The man had the nerve to chuckle.

We both know that’s not true. Arthur can’t hurt him. He wears bracelets! He may cry, though, Blenda thought, taking in the man's sculptured features and his scar. Well, that may kill him.

“How can we be sure you’re telling the truth?” Josh asked.

The leader jerked his head, and two lines of warriors with neck gaiters crept at the sides. The faltered formation withdrew to the back of the cave, but found itself surrounded by a dozen of blue cloaked knights.

“Killing is easier than capturing. And we had plenty of time to do either while you were sleeping.”

The man turned his back to the warriors, disregarding them as a threat for the second time. The nine participants growled, but he kept walking. He swung his arm over Will’s shoulder, bringing him along as he left.

Silence reigned inside the cave. Outnumbered and unarmed, the fighters had to decide between a certain death and a possible one. They chose life.

Like chided students, they walked out. Darkness engulfed them in an illusion of isolation. The sea had lost its rage, heaving lazy tides across the shore. Nothing was left of last night’s storm except for the heavy air and Blenda’s squelching steps. She stopped and turned to her friends. Yoshi piggybacked his mate and stepped out, careful of the slippery ground.

“What are you waiting for, standing there like fools?” Adana asked, rubbing her palms together. Blenda trailed her gaze to Adana's muddy bare feet. She seemed oblivious like a true warrior should be to trivial matters. Blenda took her boots off and threw them to Amara, who put them on immediately. It wouldn’t be the first time she walked barefoot on the mud. Cold seeped from the bottom of her feet to her bones, but it didn't bother her, for cold was her childhood; her father’s fingertip against her cheek, a snowball to her face, a stubbed toe twice painful, a shivering laughter. Cold was warm.

They walked towards the faint voices of Will and the leader. The forest was painted with a diluted ink. It concealed the cloaked knights. Their scents lingered around the moving crowd, but their movements were like rustling of leaves in the trees.

At the break of day, they reached the foot of the mountain. The mountain stood like a wall in front of them, not the smartest place to climb.

The leader pushed a bush to the side, and a metal door came into view. He produced an old key and inserted it into the keyhole. It clicked and opened with a loud groan. Will went first, then the leader and his entourage, followed by the captured warriors and their captors. The tunnel was a primitive narrow hole in the mountain. Its walls brushed against Igor’s massive shoulders as he passed through. He was the giant of the group. The others walked easily inside the abyss. The door slammed shut behind them, rendering their sharp eyesight useless. They stumbled on the uneven ground, raising clouds of dust. A faint smell of blood tainted the dry air from the several scratches they endured. The occasional shafts every thirty meters or so on the right wall provided a feeble sunbeam and some fresh air.

After a long silent walk, the tunnel widened. Stone stairs replaced the soil. It extended to about two dozens of meters, lightened by a line of droopy ceiling lamps. Somewhere in the middle of it, the party stopped. The walls were like the ones in Blenda's room, and the hole at her side was more like a small window. She peeked outside. The forest basked in the sunlight, and the ocean glistered at the horizon like a crystal chain. Her eyebrows shot up at the height they reached so quickly, but they weren't near the top of the mountain, yet. A click of a metal door caused the group to move again. Blenda entered the large rectangular room. The cloaked knights lined the windowless walls, leaving the middle for Blenda and her friends to fill.

“What took you so long?” Someone growled from the other side of the room. Blenda's eyes snapped to the familiar face, that held a strange expression. Arthur glowered at the leader of the knights, who kept his same unbothered stance with his hands clasped behind his back, exposing all his vital organs to the angry alpha. Blenda frowned at that.

Is the man cocky, or is Arthur too weak to be considered a threat even when he's angry?

Arthur went for the man’s throat, but a hand shot up and held him back. Blenda’s gaze followed the blue line on the white sleeve to the set jaw and thinned lips. She blinked as if coming out of a trance. The man was build like a mountain, towering over everyone in the room. His long black hair was tied in a man bun on top of his head. All eyes were on him, but Blenda only now took notice of him. The royal emblem stitched in silver on the chest of his high collar shirt told her everything about his identity.

“You can’t hold the delay against the general, Arthur. There was a storm last night,” he said in a composed tone.

“You should be happy Will came to us when he did,” the leader said, patting Will’s back.

“What?”

“Will?”

Many voices echoed around. The participants drew close together.
Everything was a lie. Everyone was a threat. Could they even trust each other?

They looked at one another, asking helpless questions and giving answers no one believed.

Betrayal…again.

Hot white rage inside Blenda Ignited her wolf on fire. She glared at Arthur, willing him to look at her, but he didn’t. She could always tell a guilty man when she saw one.
His gaze met hers when she was about to look away. Like a soft caress, it brushed her cheeks, her rough appearance, and lingered longer than it should on her caked feet. She stood tall waiting for him to meet her gaze again. He didn’t. Guilt often made ones lids heavy.

The king talked about trust and staying put. She didn't hear any of his lies, for the truth was louder.

“My king, we need to go now,” Arthur said, still avoiding her gaze.

The king nodded his farewell and dashed out with Arthur in tail. The general motioned to the knights at his left. “With the king.” He motioned to the remaining soldiers. “You, with me. Will, let’s go.”

“Why? You still need him to stab someone in the back?” Adana said, clacking her tongue. Will’s neck and ears tanged red. He didn’t answer, but rushed out with the general and the knights from the door they came from.

A thunk echoed in the almost empty room. The locks clicked, and footsteps faded into the unknown. Blenda’s lungs contracted from the cold air. Shivers ran through her body. Even the silence was cold. Like the bite of betrayal, like a question left unanswered, like the fear in the bit of her stomach she refused to acknowledge, this cold was cold.