Monstrous Disease
Zyra Momay... Even the sound of her name stirred me. She’d had that effect on me for a long while now. She tormented my waking hours and haunted my dreams. She was all I thought about and now, now I hated her.
It all began when we were both just pups. The same year that the plague was sweeping through humanity, a hybrid disease had developed to decimate our numbers as well. As if some cruel stroke of fate had decided not even us would be exempt from the suffering of sickness and loss.
Wolves in packs had gotten in the worst. They’d quickly contaminated each other and died in numbers. Passing the sickness amongst themselves within days. Leaving large spans of the woods that had once been rich with wolves, now silent and empty. The only sign that life had once been there were the decaying corpses of our kind.
The smartest wolves had figured out early on that the only way to save themselves and their young was to scatter and stay apart until the spread of it had stopped.
Still, many women and children refused to separate or could not survive on their own. Meaning that most of our females had inevitably passed away. Leaving precious few.
In our territory, one fierce Alpha called Edrick had waited until he saw that wolves were no longer dying, and he’d gone in search of the strongest, fiercest of the roaming wolves in order to form a solid pack.
Though he required them to be healthy and have something to offer his pack. Thus, only prime hunters, the fastest, fiercest, or those with special skills were permitted to join in the safety beyond his walled territory.
That was how I came to be part of the pack. There were few wolves capable of magic. I was rare.
That was why they called me Magus.
Which was simply another name for a mage. Mages were something that wolves like us had come to fear but I liked being identified for what I was. Both wolf and mage. Instead of having to hide half of myself as I had before I’d come to the Asara. I’d had to hide what I was in my former pack. Though I barely remembered them, I remembered their hatred for me.
Hatred was much of what I felt, even after I’d first come here. Until her…
Truthfully, I couldn’t remember if it were she, or I, who arrived with the Asara Pack first. Realistically I couldn’t even recall how I’d gotten here. I only remembered warmth, and safety, and a cloud of red hair in sunshine.
Then I was here.
I would’ve happily thanked the one that brought me here a million times over had I had the opportunity. Because here, with the Asara, I’d met her.
My mate. My Zyra... I knew that’s what she was.
However, her thoughts on the matter were quite to the contrary.
Zyra was stubborn and endlessly difficult. Where I was typically cool and collected, she was all heat, passion, and cruelty. I was fairly certain that not a moment of the day passed without something going on in her mind. I watched her enough to see how she often sat, lost in thought.
She always did what I least expected.
She had fascinated me even when we were pups chasing each other and playfully nipping at each other’s tails. But now, things were different.
Zyra had matured several pink moons ago, but from what I could tell, she still refused to let anyone touch her.
Except me. I intended to find out tonight if I was still the exception to her rules.
As pups Zyra and I had frolicked around each other. Drawn to the other no matter what we were doing. We had often sought each other out, sniffing and learning. Preferring to be together everywhere we went.
Even then I knew she sparked me.
In more ways than one.
One time, as we played together at sunset, I galloped over and intended to give her a playful nibble while she wasn’t looking. Or perhaps I’d intended to wrestle with her. But as my teeth sank lightly into her flank, I was jolted by something that rattled me from my teeth down to my claws. Shaking every muscle in my body.
It felt as if even my brain tumbled around in my skull from the contractions beneath my skin. My legs went stiff and I tipped over sideways. Still spasming weakly.
It was, by far, the most unpleasant experience of my life.
It was the first time Zyra taught me not to touch her unless she wanted to be touched. But it would not be the last.
But as we got older, things had begun to change. Over the moons, we grew bigger, are interactions tenser.
My desire to touch her increased. Unfortunately, so did her ability to deliver a lightning strike.
I wasn’t the only one either. It wasn’t long before no one tried to touch Zyra, even though she was gorgeous.
More time passed and Zyra attained full height. Then came the first time she’d lured me into the woods. She’d take my hand and pull me deeper into the trees. Generally leading me near the river. It was hard to tell what her plan was.
Sometimes she’d sit on a hillside and expect me to sit with her. Without a word we’d watch the sun set.
Other times she would head straight into the water, to bathe. Waiting for me to join her there. By then, I was certain that she knew what she did to me.
And she glories in it.
Today, she stripped her simple hide tunic and batted her thick, dark lashes at me as she peered over the curve of her shoulder. Beckoning me to join her with the promise of the unknown.
She stepped into the water. Letting the ripples dance around her sun-kissed body.
And just like I had every other time, I followed her in.
As if I were tethered to her by some unseen force. A line was tied to her that pulled me wherever she went. I could no more resist it than I could cease looking at her.
