Silence reigned over the cabin, except for the humming of the jet engines and the water droplets pummeling against the windows. It had been like this for several hours. Nobody wanted to talk about what happened at the Collective's headquarters, especially Jason, who sat on a leather couch with Mallory's head propped up against his leg. Jason has been battling with his emotions, keeping his tears under lockdown. He nearly lost her—no, scratch that! He did. If it wasn't for Cyron, his oldest and dearest friend would be dead right now.

"Thanks, Cyron," Jason sniffed as he talked to his inner demon. "I can't thank you enough for saving her."

"Don't mention it. We're in this together, and those closest to your heart are just as important to me as they are to you," Cyron replied. "We share a soul, remember."

"Well, maybe it's not that terrible to have you in my corner. Even though the idea of being a hellhound still freaks me out."

Cyron chuckled as he slipped into the dark recesses of Jason's mind to sleep. "To you too. It's not bad to have a human meat sack as a partner..."

Then he became quiet, leaving Jason alone once again. Jason continued stroking his best friend's hair. She hadn't woken yet, and he didn't expect that she would. Dragging one's ass back from the grave took a large bite out of their health. It would take days for Mallory to recover, not only from coming back from the dead, but from the witch's attack.

Jason turned his attention to his fellow travelers. Astrid sat at the back of the cabin playing chess with Darren while sipping on a glass of blood. She winked at me and then turned her attention back to the game. She was so kicking Darren's ass. How wasn't she fazed by the events that transpired back at the Collective's headquarters? Jason attributed her behavior to her age. Hundreds of years living through battles and wars must have tempered her emotions to a sharp blade, allowing her to sheath them away when they threatened to overwhelm her. Or maybe vampires were just emotionally stunted creatures by nature.

Ishmael sat opposite them, tapping away on his laptop. Since the attack, Ishmael has been avoiding eye contact with Jason. His odd behavior worried Jason. Did he do something wrong to upset Ishmael?

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jason asked. He needed to know why the warlock was ignoring him.

Ishmael sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm not..." However, the warlock continued avoiding his gaze.

"Bullshit."

That made Ishmael stare up at him. Dark rings hung from his gray eyes while his once tanned skin faded to a ghostly white. Ishmael didn't look right. Jason would have thought that he was sick at first glance.

"I'm just busy, that's all," said Ishmael, firing off another lame excuse.

His lie bled across Jason's tongue, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. As a hellhound, Jason could detect a lie from a mile away. No matter how crafty a liar was, demons could smell deception.

"You can't lie to a demon, Ishmael. So try again," Jason said, holding back a shiver. Calling himself a demon didn't sit well with him, but Jason could no longer deny the truth. He was a hellhound and nothing was going to change that.

"Finally... So stop bitching about it. Being part demon is not the end of the world," said Cyron grumpily as he fell back to sleep.

Jason scoffed internally and replied, "Says the hellspawn..."

Cyron didn't reply, but the hellhound's annoyance rippled through his soul.

Ishmael's words broke Jason's funk. "I'm sorry about what happened back at the Collective's headquarters..." He rubbed his forehead while closing the laptop's screen. "I honestly thought that the council would jump at the opportunity to snuff out Alaric's rebellion, but never did I consider that they'd react the way they did."

"It's not your fault, Ish." Jason quickly tried to squash Ishmael's train of thoughts. "The council's actions are their own and you had the best intentions at heart. The old geezers are to blame, not you."

A small smile cracked Ismael's dour mask. "But still... Mallory would have never come to harm if I didn't drag you to the council on a fool's warrant."

"It doesn't matter. You had no way of knowing that Ludwick and his cabal would attack the Collective. Hell, even I thought we were in the safest place on earth, but it seemed we were both mistaken." Jason pushed a couple of stands out of his friend's face. "What happened to Mallory could have happened anywhere, with or without you being present. So there's nothing for you to apologize for. What I want to know from you is... what's our next move since the Collective's a no go?"

Ishmael picked the laptop off his lap and placed it back into his carry bag. "We're heading to Laios, the city of wolves."

"And you hope you'll find the help we need?" Jason wasn't sure about poking his head into another beehive. What if they ran into another arrogant asshole with a Napoleon complex?

"Bite off their dick?" added Cyron, causing Jason to choke on his spit.

Jason coughed, trying to regain his composure while the hellhound laughed his tail off. Fucking mutt.

"I don't have to hope on this occasion." Ishmael continued with the conversation while eyeing Jason with an amused expression. "The Alpha King isn't a coward, and he has personal experience in dealing with Alaric."

***

By daybreak, the private jet had finally landed, and all of them disembarked.

Jason carried Mallory in his arms as they headed for the SUVs that waited for them. Jason picked up his pace. A powerful gust of cold air pummeled against them and he didn't want Mallory to stay out in the freezing weather in her current condition. Werewolves rarely got sick, but Mallory's recent touch with death has taken its toll on her body and her wolf weakened to where the she-wolf could slip into a coma. Once that happened to a werewolf, their fate was sealed—most wolves didn't recover. There were only two outcomes. The first, the inner beast died and the human part followed soon after. Or, the second outcome, the inner beast stayed in a comatose state for the rest of their lives while the human was unable to shift again. Both fates sucked, and Jason would have hunted Alaric and torn his heart out if it happened to his best friend.

Jason yanked open the back passenger's side door and lowered his sleeping friend into the backseat. To avoid waking her, he quietly closed the door. Jason then climbed into the car via the front passenger door and turned on the heater. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Mallory was comfortable.

"Ready to go?" Ishmael asked as he entered the car.

Ishmael started the SUV while Jason nodded. They drove onward toward Mt. Adams, where the city resides. The first Alpha King chose the site for various reasons, but mostly because of the seclusion and beauty of the region. For an hour, they drove past vast forests cloaked in a blanket of thick snow. Winter wasn't Jason's favorite season. He would have picked summer over winter every time.

Ishmael suddenly turned off the road, and onto a gravel road which led toward the mountain. Then, out of the blue, a shimmering blanket of energy appeared across the road. Jason nearly screamed his lungs out of his chest, but Ishmael's explanation saved him from embarrassing himself.

"Don't be frightened. It's just a magical barrier that hides the city from prying eyes," Ismael said, driving into the magical barrier without stopping.

Jason's ears popped while his body broke out in goosebumps when they passed the barrier. Dozens of howls echoed out through the snow-covered forest. The residents of the city knew they were there. As they broke out of the forest, a city out of a fantasy novel appeared in all of its splendor. A three-tiered medieval city sat in the valley below, and behind it, Mt. Adams rose into the sky. Jason couldn't keep his jaw from hanging loose. Never in his brief life had he seen such an impressive sight. Jason chuckled and shook his head.

"What's funny?" Ishmael asked.

"I always thought that our pack was impressive... but this—" Jason pointed at the castle that poked out from behind the tallest brick walls that could put the great walls of China to shame. "This is on another fuckin' level."

Ishmael laughed while nodding. "I agree. I had the same bitch-slapped expression on my face when I saw Laios for the first time. It's like stepping back in time... but don't let the medieval architecture fool you. The city has all the modern comforts that normal humans enjoy."

Jason craned his neck as they approached the city's gates. Two gigantic metal gates taller than a three-storied building cut the city off from them. Runes ran along the surface of the doors, ebbing with power.

"Defensive runes... This place is locked down better than Fort Knox," Cyron said, waking up from his slumber.

"How does Alaric hope to destroy the Alpha King when he's faced with this?"

Cyron yawned and said, "Don't count out that snake. He'll find a way. Never underestimate your enemy, so you'll never be surprised when they succeed in the impossible."

Jason hummed in agreement. Look what happened back at the Collective's headquarters. Not only did they succeed in invading and attacking the witches, but they also cut down half of their council. Even the old hag who chained him down like a dog got her throat torn out. So Cyron was right. He couldn't dismiss the threat Alaric posed, not only to him, but also to every other being of the supernatural world.

A guard standing beside Jason's door snapped him out of his thoughts. What a sour bunch... The guard scrunched his nose as if he had stepped in dog shit. The second guard talked to Ishmael.

"What's your business in Laios, warlock?" asked the bold-headed werewolf who chewed on a toothpick.

Dogs and their chew toys. Must have been a stick at one point.

Ishmael didn't lose his award-winning smile while he said, "We're here to see the king."

The guard snorted while he paged through his clipboard. "Mr. Eriksen, I take it?"

No, duh. Who would it be otherwise? Jason kept his eyes on the guard beside his door, who continued to glare at him. What did he do to the guy? Step on his tail, perhaps?

"Very well... You may proceed," said the guard. He howled, signaling security to open the doors.

The SUV shook as the gigantic gates opened. Ishmael twisted the keys and started the car before driving into the city.