Chapter Text
Clarke hadn’t been allowed to leave the truck since her failed escape attempt. It hadn’t been that long since they’d left the truck stop, maybe an hour or two by her estimation. Blood still speckled her face from where it had sprayed from the trucker’s throat. She’d attempted to scrub it off, but quickly gave up, finding it too exhausting to bother. It wasn’t the first time she'd been tainted by innocent blood and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Though who knows? Maybe she’d be murdered by the Queen Ice Bitch before another person could waste their life for her sake. Numbness weighed down her limbs, though from the cold or from hopelessness she could no longer tell, nor did she particularly care. She was sinking back into the pervasive dread that had been her constant companion through the countless centuries trapped in Underhill. Fight as she might, she could feel hopelessness sapping her strength. Bitterness ate at her, welling up from freshly reopened scars. Safety had been an illusion after all, she had let her guard down and this was the natural consequence. No one was going to save her. She would have to do it herself then, just as she always had. Survival, that was all that mattered right now. Living could wait, for now she just had to survive. Clarke huddled in a corner attempting to conserve her body heat and get some rest.
The squealing of rusty truck brakes roused the blonde from her uneasy slumber. Tires bumped over rumble strips and the truck tilted as it pulled over to the side of the road. What in Hel’s name is he doing now? Clarke wondered as she readied herself, uneasy at the unexpected stop. It hadn’t been nearly long enough for the gas tank to be empty and she doubted Roan would stop for anything as mundane as a snack or piss break. She waited silently as the cab door opened and slammed shut. Roan’s heavy tread crunched across snow and frozen dirt as he rounded to the back and threw open the doors. Clarke didn’t have the energy for another rush for freedom, staying crouched defensively in her corner as he climbed in and approached her.
“What’s going on?” She spat, “Why did we stop? Are we at the Ice Court already?” Her questions were ignored as he grabbed the chain of her manacles and yanked her outside, not bothering to steady her when she stumbled and almost fell off the high tailgate. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden influx of daylight, she scanned her surroundings, surprised to see they were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snow-covered trees, the sun hanging low on the horizon. Roan had a coil of rope over his shoulder and Clarke could see the outline of a Sig Sauer holstered under his jacket. Her captor hurried into the forest, towing her along behind. They didn’t seem to be following any kind of path, but the man moved with purpose and ease through the snow. After a short while, he shoved her towards a tree and unspooled the rope, securing her to the trunk with rough hands and little expression on his face. He didn’t bother to cover her mouth and she was half expecting the cold touch of a gun barrel to her head. She glared at him defiantly until he moved out of her sightline. Her ears strained for any sound or hint of what he was doing. Twigs snapped and snow crunched as he moved away from her. Was he just going to leave her tied to the tree until she froze to death? What was he doing? Why bring her all this way just to let her freeze? None of this made any sense.
She pulled against her bindings, feeling for any hint of weakness in the rope or loosening of the knots, but it was no use, the fae man knew exactly what he was doing and there was no way she’d be able to break out without her flames. Shivers wracked her body and her teeth began to chatter in the winter air as the icy trunk leeched the warmth from her bones. Thor’s hairy balls it’s cold! Clarke yet again wished desperately for her fire. She hadn’t been this cold in Hel knows how long and every inch of exposed skin stung in the frigid air. A loud snap echoed through the wintry quiet. She stilled, searching the darkening forest for the source of the noise. Should she call out? Was whatever out there here to help free her or was it going to kill her? She stayed silent and tried to suppress the chattering of her teeth. Out from the dim trees came a hulking silver wolf, black accents on his nose and ears making him stand out from the snow. He approached warily, nose casting about for a scent and ears flicking back and forth to capture any sound.
“Lincoln!” Elation flooded through Clarke at the sight of the familiar wolf. Lincoln bounded towards her in a loping run, Octavia’s red and white form emerging behind him. They’d found her! Movement in the trees high above caught her attention and the elation curdled into bone-chilling comprehension. “Stop! It’s a trap! Watch o--”
BANG! The gunshot shattered the peace of the winter forest, sound ricocheting off bare trees. Lincoln crumpled mid stride, momentum carrying him forward a few feet and leaving a streak of vivid red in his wake, marring the pristine snow. His yellow eyes widened in shock and agony as the silver bullet tore into him, leaving a weeping crimson hole in the beautiful silver fur of his shoulder.
“NOOO!” A scream of horror tore from Clarke’s throat and she threw herself against her bindings, oblivious to the rope chafing her skin raw. Octavia skidded to a stop and threw herself to the side just in time to dodge the next bullet, though the move brought her right beneath her attacker. Roan dropped from the branches onto the red wolf’s back, blade gleaming in the twilight. He drove it into her spine and she collapsed like a sack of potatoes with a yelp of pain. Lincoln stirred at his mate's cry and hauled himself to his feet with a titanic effort. He faced the Ice Fae with a snarl as the fae leapt off Octavia’s back, bloody knife in hand. Blood dripped from the argent blade as they circled each other. Lincoln’s shoulder buckled with the next step and Roan darted in with inhuman speed, bringing the knife swinging up into the joint between Lincoln’s neck and shoulder. The silver wolf snapped his jaws at the fae but missed, his usual grace stolen by the pain of the silver poisoning his wound. The man kicked the wolf in the ribs and Lincoln fell to the snow in a heap. The man whipped out his gun again and leveled it at the wolf’s head. Octavia snarled viciously and fought to drag herself closer, hind legs useless from the severed spine. The toxic metal of the knife prevented her from healing quickly and she could only watch helplessly as the man threatened her mate.
“STOP!” Clarke begged, desperately straining towards the fallen wolves, her new family. “Please! Please, don’t. I’ll do anything, I’ll stop fighting. Just, please, don’t kill them.” Her voice petered out with the realization that nothing she could say would keep this man from murdering her friends. His gaze never wavered from the pitiful form of Lincoln as she pleaded with him. Slowly, so godsdamn agonizingly slowly, he lowered the gun to his side.
“You would give your word?” He asked, doubt evident in his tone.
“Fine, yes, I give my word that I will go with you willingly until we reach the Ice Court.” Clarke sagged against the ropes in relief as the man nodded and tucked the gun back into its holster. He kept a close watch on the wounded werewolves as he untied Clarke and coiled the rope again. Tears of frustration threatened to spill from the firebrand’s eyes as she followed the man obediently. As they passed Lincoln, the man’s knife flashed once more and Lincoln cried as his hamstrings were severed. Clarke gasped and started a step towards him, but made no other move to help. Among the Fae, one’s word was an unshakable bond and to break it is to invite destruction on oneself. It was the only thing of value she had left to give in exchange for the lives of Lexa’s wolves. And now she didn’t even have that. She meekly followed Roan out of the woods, knowing that her vow to stop fighting was the only thing keeping the Ice fae from slicing open her friends’ throats. He had trapped her completely now, she no longer had even the slightest chance of escape.
“Don’t follow us.” Roan said, wiping his knife clean with a handful of snow and continuing back to the semi. Clarke could only glance back at Lincoln and Octavia with anguish on her face as they left. The last thing she saw of them was Octavia crawling to her mate’s side and whining as she licked his wounds. There’s nothing else I can do. I have to hope they can heal fast enough, before they bleed out.
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Lexa cursed violently under her breath, glass and plastic creaking as her hand clenched around her phone. Bellamy still wasn’t answering his damn phone. Which was a problem because the most likely spy was Echo. So if Bellamy is unreachable, the logical conclusion is that it was Echo’s fault. Lexa tried again to call him. It went straight to voicemail:
“Yo, you’ve reached Bellamy Blake. You know the drill.”
The phone shattered against the far wall, Lexa’s frayed patience finally snapping. Now we will do this MY way, Sister Wolf’s voice rumbled in her head. Lexa clenched her jaw, but her Wolf was right. There was nothing left but to search for the absent wolf on her own.
“Anya!” Lexa called, exiting her office and stripping off her clothes as she went. She liked this jacket; it wouldn’t help her mood to ruin it by shifting in it.
“Sha, Heda.” Her Second appeared beside her, having been waiting outside the office.
“I’m done waiting. I’m going to find Bellamy myself.” Without waiting for a response, Lexa shifted, fur rippling across bronze skin, eyes glowing green and teeth lengthening. She raced out of the house on four feet and into the woods towards the Blakes’. Sister Wolf howled at the release of being able to just run. No more useless human waiting, they were going to finally do something. Five minutes later she was outside the Blakes’ small house. The door stood ajar, the scents of the house's occupants stale. Blake had been gone for at least as long as Clarke. Sister Wolf’s lip curled in a vicious snarl, but her tread was cautious as she approached the open entryway. Faint scents of Bellamy and Echo clung to the walls, but nothing indicated where they had gone. Lexa bounded up the stairs to the bedrooms, pushing Bellamy’s door open with a paw. The bedsheets were a tangled mess and the dresser drawers had been thrown open, clothes hanging out haphazardly. They’d obviously left in a hurry, but Lexa couldn’t detect any hint of fear or pain in the lingering scents. So Bellamy didn’t seem to have been forced to leave. He must have been coerced or tricked into abandoning the town with Echo. There was absolutely no way Bellamy would ever willingly abandon his sister, especially when the Alpha was out of town. Bellamy was much too overprotective of Octavia to ever be far from her.
Lexa padded back down to the main floor, following the most recent scent trail. It led to the back door and out down the back path to the woods. Two sets of footprints were visible in the deep snow. Sister Wolf suppressed a howl of triumph, not wanting to tip off her quarry. The red wolf loped into the woods, following the tracks with ease. She could feel her prey drawing ever nearer as her loping gait ate up the distance between them. Sister Wolf was silent as she maneuvered effortlessly through the winter wood. They both knew these lands as well as they knew their own body. The spirits of the wood and wild drummed through her blood as her paws beat out their rhythm. They are close, Sister Wolf shivered in anticipation as her ears picked up the sounds of their quarry. Soon she could see them hurrying through the thigh-high snow, Bellamy following Echo’s every step like a lovesick puppy.
The sharp bite of fae magic pricked Lexa’s nose as she stalked them. Obviously Echo had more power than she had let on. Lexa couldn’t tell what the magic’s purpose was, but she suspected it had to do with how Echo had convinced Bellamy to follow her, from the dopey look on his face. We take out the fae bitch first, Lexa thought and Sister Wolf huffed in agreement. They slunk across the snow, circling to the side to get a clear shot at Echo’s back. Suddenly, the wind shifted and Bellamy swung around, catching Lexa’s scent. He crouched protectively in front of Echo, shielding her from harm as he searched for the threat.
Element of surprise lost, Lexa sprung out from hiding and tackled Bellamy to the snow. She snapped at his face, but he jammed his arm between her jaws and thrust his booted feet into her belly, launching her over the top of him. Lexa was forced to let go of the arm in order to land on her feet. Echo scrambled away from her, crying out for Bellamy to attack.
“Bellamy, she will kill me if you don’t get her first. Defend me!” Hypnotic magic laced her voice, demanding that Bellamy obey and protect his love.
Fuck, she must be able to compel others somehow. Lexa darted to the left then juked right, trying to get around the other wolf. She didn’t want to hurt him if she could help it. But she would do what was necessary to catch the traitor. Bellamy intercepted her lunge, arms circling her neck and dragging her down in a chokehold. His hands scrambled for purchase in her thick ruff and Lexa had to twist awkwardly to pull herself out of his grasp. She swiped razor-sharp claws across his exposed back, shredding his winter jacket and the skin beneath. He grunted in pain, but recovered quickly; he always had been quick on his feet. Lexa dodged his charge and lashed out, claws extended. Blood spattered the snow as she carved open his thigh. Behind Bellamy, Lexa could see Echo making a dash for a snowmobile she must have stashed here in the woods for exactly this.
She snarled and returned her attention to Bellamy as he drew a knife from his belt. It wasn’t silver, but it could do enough damage to keep Lexa from the chase for long enough. A killing calm settled over the red wolf. Her mate was in danger. She didn’t have time for this joking child to distract her. Her muscles bunched and she launched herself high over the man’s head, rebounding off a tree and bringing her within reach of the treacherous fae woman. One more lunge and her teeth clamped around the back of Echo’s neck, hot blood spilling over her tongue. She was extremely tempted to clench her jaws shut, shearing through muscle and spine to kill her prey, but Lexa remained enough in control of herself to keep Echo alive...for now.