21st of Second Seed, 4E 203

Snarling, chest heaving, I swung my heavy blade into the training dummy. Straw spilled from the large rip in the canvas, littering the training yard with the golden stalks. I stepped over them and took another swing at the dummy.

"No, Ylva. I can't believe anything you say anymore. I'm done with being deceived."

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe her. How could she have lied to me again? She lied right to my face, went behind Kodlak's back, decided that revenge was more important than honor.

How could she lie to me?

I had no idea where she was, and I didn't care. She had probably locked herself in her room, to hide from Kodlak and the shame she brought to herself. She was a disgrace to the Companions, like I knew she would be.

Then why was I so angry? I should have felt triumphant; I had been right. Instead, I just felt an anger, a fire of betrayal, burning in my heart. I was angry at her, and angry at myself for falling for her. I should have listened to my head and not my heart. Should have kept my distance. I should not have allowed myself to become infatuated with her.

I had been a fool. But I wasn't going to fall for it again. Snarl deepening, I cut both arms off the training dummy, straw, canvas, and all.

"Vilkas!" called my twin. I ignored him and lopped the head off the dummy.

"Brother, stop! Just stop it!" His footsteps grew closer, then his hand wrapped around my right bicep.

"Get off me," I growled, my teeth elongating into fangs. In the back of my mind, I knew I had to stay in control. Turning to the blood in broad daylight was bound to have serious repercussions, but I was too angry to listen to reason.

He kept his hand on my arm, despite my warning. "What are you doing?"

I screamed, pulling my arm from his grasp, and brought my blade down on the dummy. Wood splintered and hay shot everywhere. The only thing left of the dummy was a stub of the middle support pole, and it had been split right down the middle.

Farkas latched onto my wrists and wrenched my blade from my hands. He kicked it aside, fear in his eyes, and tightened his hold on my wrists.

"What's wrong with you?" His voice has dropped, low and afraid. "Your eyes... and your teeth, they're changing."

I blinked and turned my head away. "Leave me, brother. It's none of your concern."

"It's about her, isn't it? Ylva, I mean."

My head jerked back to face him. How could he have known that? "What?"

"You're mad that she lied to us. You always get mad when people lie."

"No, I don't."

"I don't have to be smart to know that, Vilkas. You're mad, admit it."

I heaved a low sigh. "Ylva lied to our faces for weeks, Farkas. She said she was no one, kept her Dragonborn identity a secret."

"What makes us different? We kept our secret from her, too. We didn't tell her about our wolf spirits until after we found out she was Dragonborn. So how are we any better than her?"

"She followed the wrong path. There are going to be consequences."

"Is that what the old man said? Or are you afraid?"

I stiffened. "I am not afraid, Farkas. I'm not afraid of anything."

"Liar." He smirked and let go of my wrists. "You're afraid of something. Everyone is." He then walked over to my abandoned blade, picked it up, and brought it back to me. "Here. You may want to get it—"

"Vilkas! Farkas!"

We both looked to see Aela sprinting for us. Her war-painted face was red, sweat glistening on her brow. She had a tight grip on her bow.

"Silver Hand have been spotted at the gates! They're coming straight here!"

Farkas drew his blade, and my hands tightened around mine. "This is your fault, Aela," I growled, pushing the doors to Jorrvaskr open. "Your quest for vengeance has brought this upon us all!"

"Now just a minute! This isn't my fault! How was I to know that this would happen?!"

"You should've known better, Aela."

"Now is not the time for blame, Vilkas," said a voice I did not expect to hear. Kodlak was there, standing proud among the rest of the Companions, warpaint freshly applied and Skyforge warhammer tight in his hands. "Save your fury for the battle." He raised his own weapon, looking around the room. "Torvar, Aela, head outside. Stop them before they can get inside. The rest of you, stay in here. We will defend this hall. Our foes will not defile it."

Aela and Torvar headed outside, just as the old man had instructed, and the rest of us spaced ourselves around the room. Njada and Athis stood by the back door, in case our foes decided to try to get in that way.

As I scanned the room, I realized that Ylva was not present. She should have been; even if she was a liar, she would have enough sense to help us defend our home. She was no coward. As much as I disliked her, I had to admit she had courage.

I had just started to debate on going to her room to fetch her when the doors burst open. Like a dam rupturing, dozens of men and women wielding silver swords poured through the open doors. They screamed and yelled, fighting any of the Companions that had rushed to stop them.

"Kodlak, get behind me!" I cried, standing in front of the old man. I threw my blade out in front of me, stopping two Silver Hand attacks at once.

"No, boy!" His voice halted, like he couldn't get a full breath. "I will fight like the rest of you."

For the first time in many years, the great Kodlak Whitemane raised his hammer in battle. It had been so long since he had fought, I had forgotten what it was like to see him use his weapon. His age never stopped him; it was like he had become a younger man again, swinging his warhammer with ease and pushing our enemies back.

I snarled and drove my sword deep into one man's chest. His last words were, "Go to Oblivion, you dog." I kicked his body off my blade and left him on the floor.

"Split up!" cried one of the Silver Hand. I presumed he was the commander of this veritable army. "Check downstairs! Find that black-haired she-wolf that killed the Skinner!"

She-wolf? They had to be talking about Ylva. My stomach knotted. If they found her... a quick death would be a mercy.

Pushing past Farkas, I ran for the stairs, standing in front of the six Silver Hand that had split from the main force.

"Get. Back." I held my blade higher.

"Protecting something, are we?" one jeered. His gaze flicked to the pieces of Wuuthrad mounted on the wall. "Take those. Kill him, then find the girl."

"I won't let you pass!"

Three of them attacked at once, trying to push me down the stairs. I swung my blade and stood my ground. Our blades connected in a clash that made my ears ring, and three bodies leaned into mine. They had an advantage. They would only have to push me down the stairs to get me out of the way.

But I had an advantage, too. I had a wolf spirit spurring me on, and I had a Daedric Lord at my back. For once, I could be thankful for this curse.

The flames of rage burning like a furnace in my belly, I screamed and pushed the three Silver Hand away. They all fell to the floor, dropping their blades in the process. I snarled at them, killing each of them with a swipe to their necks.

When I turned to find the other three who had been with them, a sharp pain burst along my jaw. I stumbled backwards, falling down the stairs. More pain spiked through my body as I tumbled downward, coming to a slow stop at the bottom.

Groaning, I pushed myself onto my knees, before I was met with a sword at my throat. The silver blade burned, as if it had just been removed from a forge. I grimaced as the point was pushed further into my skin.

The woman on the other end laughed. "So much for the legendary Companions. I guess this is what happens when you sell yourselves to a Daedric Lord."

Upstairs, a woman shrieked. I did not recognize who had screamed, but I knew she was one of us.

My heart hammered in my chest as I assumed the worst. Ylva.

"We got what we came for!" yelled the Silver Hand leader as the screaming continued. "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

The woman holding the blade to my throat pulled it back. "It's your lucky day, mutt." She slammed the hilt of her sword into my temple, and I crumpled to the floor. Footsteps retreated, the scream fell silent, and my vision went dark.