Chapter 1: Astris
I bolt upright in bed, heart pounding. My breaths come out fast and shallow, ragged from my sore throat, as if my oxygen had been cut for days.
It was that damn nightmare again.
I’ve been having the same one for years, so much so that I can recall the thing like I have it by-hearted. Each time there’s a little more or less detail, but this time was one of the most vivid, though the details are always murky. But the same feeling still lingers.
Fear.
Cursing myself for being such a wimp, I reach across my nightstand for a glass of water. Glancing out my second floor bedroom window, I could see that it was still dark out. The full moon was shining high in the sky, illuminating everything with a silver glow. The tree line was a dark silhouette, shrouding whatever lied in those depths with an aura of mystery.
The Moon wolves were definitely having a field day with that.
My mind was still shaky, my breaths still stuttering. I need to think, to get these confining, stupid images out of my head. A walk. A walk would help, wouldn’t it? I throw the covers back and swing my legs over the side of my bed, placing them softly on the wooden boards. Face my window, I grasp my glass, and just as I was about to take a sip after finally calming down, my door bursts open.
“Astris!” shouts a voice from behind me. I spin around, water sloshing out of the cup and splashing on the floor. I find my brother standing there, hand on the door which has been slammed into the wall. “Hurry up! Get dressed!”
His sudden intrusion sends my heart rate climbing all over again. “James? Why are- What the fuck are you wearing?”
He was fully clad in soldier uniform, why, at who knows what time, I have no idea, and I’m sure even the Moon doesn’t. His dark hair falls into his brows, trying to obscure his vision.
But it was his expression that threw me off.
“Soldier Thorne,” he says, his tone shifting to sharp and cold, speaking like when he’s the Alpha’s son, not my brother. “We are soon to be under attack, so if you don’t mind getting your ass outside, get dressed and get armed. Now.”
Attack? “Is it Argentum?” I ask, already setting the glass down and crossing to my cupboard, ignoring my wet footprints. “Did they even send a missive?”
“Yes to your first question and no to your second. The Earth wolves sensed it and the Moon wolves foresaw it tonight, saying that they’ll arrive at our borders in two hours, maybe less. They’re rousing the pack as we speak.”
Goddess. We knew that they would attack within the month, but right now? In the dead of the night?
Such fucking cowards.
“No missive?” I ask from inside my closet, bewildered, now. Almost a century ago, it was made official that no wars could be waged without sending a missive at least twelve hours in advance with every pack in the Crystal Valley by signing a treaty. “Why? They’ll be exiled now; they know that, don’t they?”
“I guess they wanted to take us by surprise,” he says, hesitant.
No shit.
The rules in the Crystal Conduct were strict. The Alpha male and female of Argentum have committed a crime.
And werewolves do not take lightly a broken rule.
Fifty minutes later, James made his way into the strategy room. I wait outside the looming wooden cottage, impatient. It feels like he’s been in there forever, even though I know exactly how long he’s taking. It’s settled in a small clearing, farther away from the rest of the houses. A basement underground holds swords, arrows and bombs with shrapenel, all made of silver, lethal to werewolves.
The main house where James, Alpha Myers, Alpha Hazel and I live is around the central region of the territory. We’re in the North-east right now. The pack lands stretch for nearly five hundred hectares, housing almost three thousand wolves, in the Western and Southern part. In the South-east lies our timber production, our main source of income and export. The sheer slopes of the Ardus mountain range barely touched our extreme Western border.
This ties Kalendis and Argentum as the third largest packs in the Crystal, with Ferox being the first. The sheer slopes of the Ardus mountain range barely touched our extreme Western border.
Tired of recounting my studies, I was two seconds away from barging in there myself, but everyone files out, including him.
About time.
He looks around for me, and when he spots me leaning against a tree, I instantly know I’m in for a lecture.
Correction, argument.
There’s no way I’m backing down if it’s what I think it is.
His face is no longer commanding. It’s soft, almost pleading. I know what he’s going to say.
“Astris,” he says, like I’m a scared pup that’ll run away. “I know you want to be part of this fight. I know you want to be an idiot and put your life in danger, but–”
“James,” I say. He was twenty-two when he went to his first war. That was five years ago. I’m twenty-three, now. “You’re not going to budge me. I’ve been training for this for weeks and you know that. It isn’t fair to throw me out now.”
“Astris, please, just think about it. You’re my little sister. I don’t want you to be in danger. You’ll be a distraction for me on the battlefield. I can’t take care of you.”
Frustration takes a hold of me. “I will not be a ‘distraction’. I’m capable of handling myself and you know that.”
But underneath that anger lies warmth. The same warmth that simmers up every time he calls me his little sister. Because we aren’t biological siblings. His parents took me in when I was eight. But we’ve long since established that blood meant nothing.
That makes it easier to hate his parents.
But not easy enough.
“Please. Just think about it,” he says again, brown eyes soft. I have to give it to him. He’s trying his hardest.
“You went when you were a year younger than I am now. How’s that fair?”
“I’m an Elemental, and a Wind wolf on top of that. You’re a female Variance,” he half snaps.
“Oh, shut the fuck up. Being a female has no effect on my capabilities. That’s awfully sexist of you. And sure, being an Elemental has its advantages, but look at the number of Variances we have! They aren’t getting a talk from you.” Anger had taken a firmer hold.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But–”
“No. I’m coming. I’m helping. I’m not sitting around in anxiety waiting for you.”
Rejected, he sighs. “Fine. Don’t you dare fuck up,” He winces with his choice of words and sighs again. “I’m just looking out for you, okay?”
I give him a soft smile. “I know.”
Before he can say anything else, a voice rings out, “Jamie! Astris!” A female with dark brown hair flying behind her is running towards us. With those sweet curves and that gorgeous face, every male in the pack is jealous of James. She’s about twenty feet away, and a second later, she’s right in front of us. Olivia is a Water wolf, and damn if they aren’t fast.
She wraps her arms around James, and he clutches her tight, like it physically hurts him to let go.
And since they’re mates, it probably does.
People have asked me if I was jealous that my best friend was James’s mate, because they thought I liked him, and I tried not to puke at the words.
Olive and I instantly clicked the moment we met at eight. James met Olivia through me, and the first time I saw them interact with each other, I realized they were definitely something else. As I got older, I understood. But they never did. They hoped, I guess. Not until you’re eighteen, when you and your wolf are finally synced and you’re mature, your wolf seeks the other part of its soul. I remember their looks of absolute happiness and shock the moment they knew.
I myself was beyond elated.
I pull my thoughts to the present and find them in an intense makeout session. I turn around and walk away, giving them privacy. No one was looking anyways; they were too busy preparing. And no one stopped them either.
Because war was deadly.
Going towards the strategy room, I try to peek through the door. We’ll have a briefing from our respective commanders in a few minutes, and until then, I was free.
But I'm not supposed to be in this room.
I was this close to sticking my head in and actually seeing something, and then someone says behind me, “Soldier Thorne.”
I freeze, and I feel my wolf instinctively bending to the unspoken will of the voice at my back. Don’t move.
Alpha, I whisper in my mind.
“No,” growls my wolf. “They’ll never be our Alphas, and you know that, As. They could’ve helped us, all those years ago. They could’ve saved everyone, but they didn’t. They aren’t worthy of our loyalty.”
“Stop, Zeeva,” I chide. “They had their own fucking ‘arrangements’. We have no choice, anyway. We already pledged ourselves.”
“I bet you’re wishing you didn’t. I know I am.”
“Soldier Thorne,” says the voice, a hell of a lot harsher. For someone who tries to claim to be my father figure, he’s rough.
I whirl around, finding myself face to face with Alpha Myers. I try to calm my nerves. I’ve been getting way too many tonight.
“I don’t suppose you know that you aren’t allowed in the strategy room until your commander escorts you?” he asks, grey eyes condescending, with black hair flopping in them. His sharp features–nose, jawline, cheekbones–further enhance his similar personality. Moon wolves always have a slight air of authority, and are common as alphas. Myers is no different. “Well?” he continues, tilting his head. “Are you intent on ignoring me?”
His unspoken sentence is loud in the air.
Are you willing to question and disobey your Alpha?
I mentally ground my teeth, sure that he’ll catch that and condemn me, with his eyes if not verbally. Physically, I try my best not to spit the words out, “No, Alpha Myers. I was just curious is all. I apologize. I’ll be on my way–”
“Now, wait a moment,” he says, easily issuing power in his words, even though it isn’t required. My body freezes, and I can’t even literally ground my teeth even if I wanted to.
I hate this feeling, the helplessness. Personally, I like being able to move. And I know he does this on purpose, waving his strength above my head.
“I take it James spoke with you?” This time, his eyes soften, along with his tone. But just barely. I know only because I’m so used to his roughness. “Are you sure you’re going through with this?”
He doesn’t put any command into those words. If there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he respects people’s personal decisions. He tries to, at least. But I know that he could easily stop me from going, if he really wanted me to not risk my life.
Or he just wants me dead.
Moon knows.
“Yes, Alpha. I am not going to be useless this time.”
“ 'Useless this time’? What the hell is that? Are you intent on looking like an idiot?”
“Shut up, Zeeva,” I mentally retort.
“Alright then,” Myers says. “I’m not too happy about this, you know.” He looks like he’s forcing out the words, like his ego is paining him. That’s how I know that this is genuine. “I really hope you’ll come back safe.” He gives a small little smile, and that, too, seems true.
Scratch wanting me dead. I guess he actually does care.
“Don’t be too fooled,” Zeeva says. But even she says it with less bite.
I smile back his same strained smile. “Thank you, Alpha Myers.”
He gives a nod, and he looks a little awkward. “Stay out of the strategy room,” he says, but there is only half of his power. Enough to hurt if I tried to go, but not enough to stop me if I tried my best. He turns to leave, and then hesitates. He looks back and says, “Alpha Hazel is looking for you, Astris. She’s in the Pack House.”
The Pack House consisted of five stories and one basement, made with an odd yet pleasing mixture of marble, wood and stone, the latter two with elaborate engravings telling tales of the werewolves’ thousands of years of history. Inside the basement was a panic room another two stories below, with rations that could last twenty people for a year or more.
If you ask me, I think it’s a bit over the top for a family of three. Four, if you include me. But I don’t consider myself family, anyway.
I hate the Alphas a little too much for “family”, even if one of them says he “hopes I’ll come back safe” when he could’ve made sure I was safe with my real parents.
There were four kitchens, fifteen plus bedrooms, and one hot tub. The backyard was filled with all kinds of herbs and plants, courtesy of Hazel. It stretched for about forty yards before the gate in the fence opened up into the forest.
Climbing the marble staircase to the wooden porch, I admire the etchings– swirling designs depict Fire wolves with flaming scruffs, Water wolves weaving the fluid between their huge paws, Wind wolves teleporting to near and far places, Earth wolves bending the ground to their will, and Moon wolves looking up at the full, glowing white orb floating in the sky and predicting the immediate future with their foresight.
These inscriptions are in every Alpha house, made not by compulsion, but by passion. They are made to honor our stories and our history.
There’s thousands upon thousands of years’ of stories of werewolves, passed down through the generations, either through oral stories or written ones, albeit the written texts are scarce and sacred. Most of the stories pups have heard are told by their parents and grandparents, and hardly are one or two of them are read aloud from books.
Inside the House, I make my way to the second floor study. Chances are, Alpha Hazel is up there, plotting plans for the attack. She prefers the comfort of her home rather than in the strategy room, but I guess she’ll be heading down soon enough.
I remember how she took me around a tour of the place the first few weeks I was here. She showed me every single unoccupied room, letting me have the pick of the litter. I chose the second largest one, largest because of my new-found phobia, second because I didn’t want to be rude.
Crossing the second floor landing, I reach the last door on the left. I knock twice, waiting for her to let me in. She does, and I walk in.
“If it’s anything urgent, feel free to wait,” she says, without looking up from her desk. She was standing, leaning over multiple maps and sketches of Kalendis grounds, ruler and pencil in hand. Half of her shoulder-length light brown hair covered her face, and she was dressed in a maroon coat covering a black shirt and jeans. For a woman of around sixty, she’s fit. “If it’s extremely urgent, then only do you have my permission to talk,” she continues.
“Um, Alpha Myers told me you wanted to talk to me?” I say hesitantly. “But if you’ve changed your mind and you’re busy, I’ll just see myself ou–”
She spun around and locked me with her brown gaze. “Oh, Astris, sorry, I thought you were one of the maids asking for the millionth time if I wanted coffee.” She strides toward me, and her gaze turns a little sharper. “Myers mind-linked me and told me that you decided on going,” she frowns slightly. “Are you sure? I would much rather you stay.”
In the past fifteen years since I came, Hazel has always been motherly to me. But she is the Alpha, along with Myers, and she has a hand in the military decisions.
They could have helped.
Pushing that thought away, I give a strained smile. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I’ve made my choice. I’m not sitting around doing nothing.”
“Better,” says Zeeva.
“Well, then,” she looks like I’ve disappointed her, and like it was expected. “I guess you have, huh?” Her face seems tired as she smiles back.
Despite my best efforts, I can’t stop the pinprick of hate burning through my veins as she steps forward and wraps her arms around me.
I try, but I can’t hug her back. Not fully, anyway. Just an awkward raise of my arms. Even though I pledged loyalty to her and Myers long ago, the hate still runs deep.
“And rightfully so,” counters Zeeva. “We have the right to hate them, you know.”
I stay silent.
Hazel stops hugging me. On some level, I think they know that I’m not that close to them. They’ve tried, again and again, to be warm and to pull me in, and all I’ve done is stand stiffly while they hug me.
Hazel’s tried, anyway.
Guilt trickles in, right one top of the hate, and I hate that I feel it.
“Well, you best be on your way.” she says with a sigh. “Your commander will call you to the strategy room any second now.”
I give a quick nod of my head, and leave the room.
On the way down the stairs, I run into Olivia. We met eyes for just a second before we’ve thrown ourselves at each other. She holds me tight, and I do the same. She, I have no problem with hugging. She’s my sister, the one I’ve spilt almost all my secrets to, and I’m the one she’s spilt all of hers to, apart from James, of course.
But there are also some things that are shared only between sisters.
“As,” she speaks against my hair. “Are you-”
“If you ask me whether or not ‘I’m sure’ then you can be sure I’ll-”
“Oh, shut up, for fuck’s sake,” she says softly, with a little half hearted laugh. Then her voice cracks at the end of her next sentence. “Do both the people I love most in the world have to go to war on the same day?”
Olivia is like me: an orphan. But unlike me, she was fourteen when both her parents died in a car crash.
I was eight years old when mine died.
“I’m sorry,” I say, whispering for some reason. This conversation seems to be just between the two of us. Silent and secret, quite like a lot of our exchanges. “But you know I have to do this.”
“I tried convincing James to ask you one more time, but he said he did. The only reason I’m not coming is because James told Alpha Myers to command me not to come, or even train.” Her voice contained anger, and I would’ve been surprised if it didn’t. I’ve been training in swordsmanship since forever, and that’s the only reason Myers and Hazel didn’t give in to James’s pleading requests. They said I’ll be able to hold my own.
And I’ll be damned if I don’t.
Literally.
She takes a deep breath, like she’s trying to inhale my scent, and then steps back a bit. She pins me with her blue-black eyes. “You’re coming back, okay? You and James both are. Don’t either of you even fucking try to do anything else.”
I grin at her. “You’re really mellow sometimes, you know, but I love it when you’re fierce.”
She smiles back. “I do too.”
“Everyone got that?” asks my commander, Hera. She’s well into her forties, and is still extremely scary. I’m definitely not the only one who thinks that, because from the rest of the room came the very prompt, very quiet reply, “Yes, Commander.”
“Good, then get the hell out of here for the next squad,” she says, barely finishing her sentence before she’s out the back door, most probably to inform the next people to occupy the room.
Or to go intimidate more pups. Goddess knows.
We all file out of the room, and lucky me, I get pushed and prodded until I’m at the end of the line.
The line progresses as slow as fuck for soliders about to go to war, and maybe that’s the reason it’s so slow. Just as I’m about to exit, I hear the back door open and two voices float in, both from commanders, I’m sure.
“Can you believe they attacked without a missive?” one of them says.
“Yeah, and apparently, this isn’t their first time,” the other replies.
I go utterly still.
And then I slip out of the door and slide to the side of the wall, leaning slightly, trying to grab the rest of their discussion.
“I heard the first time they did it was fifteen years ago, on some pack called…uh, Lune or something,” he continued.
If I was still before, I’m ice-frozen now.
Lunae, I think. Not Lune, you jackass. Lunae. But I can’t be a hundred percent sure. A lot of wars happened fifteen years ago. Word had just spread about the–
“No way,” the first one says. “That Lunae? How did you mess up the name, dude. Did they really start a war without a missive? How the fuck did they evade the Crystal?”
“No clue. But if they did it once before and were still standing to do it again, I bet you they’ll get away this time, too.”
“Has Argentum leadership changed in the past few years?” I hear the sound of pages flipping. Guess that commander didn’t study other packs well enough.
No, I think, a little smug. The leadership of the top fifteen packs with the highest population hasn’t changed in the past twenty years.
“Get out of your mental textbooks and listen, Astris,” scolds my wolf, and I dutifully obey, too bad there’s not much else to listen to.
“Well, damn,” he says, slight awe mixed with disgust in his voice. “I can’t believe it.”
The reminder of the topic of what I was eavesdropping on washes away all traces of cockiness from my veins, replacing it with a chilling flush instead.
I slip away, knowing that I’ve heard the important parts of their conversation. I walk towards the basement entrance with my eyes trained on the subtle gaps in the wooden floorboards, mind twisting, trying to comprehend this new bucket of ice water –freshly dumped on me– called “information.”
Fifteen years.
Fifteen years ago a pack was attacked ruthlessly by another one, and the attack was so inhumane that the name of the attackers was wiped away, to be forgotten. Everyone knows about how cruelly they were slaughtered, all in the name sake of that one, special wolf. How the commander managed to get a hold of the name, I don’t know, and maybe that’s the first sign that it was just a rumor.
But if it wasn’t…
I banish the thought, refusing to let it linger in my mind. Zeeva doesn’t say anything, either.
I get to the basement doors and climb down the shallow stairs, ducking my head even though I’m five foot five. My breathing always either halts completely or starts erratically while descending these stairs, whether it’s because of the familiar underground, wooden scent, or because of the space, I have no idea, but I hate them regardless. There’s hardly any room as you climb down.
Finally, I reach the basement. It’s spacious and large, a huge contrast to the cramped staircase to get here. There’s rows of weapons of every kind, bombs, swords, knives, arrows and bows. Werewolves generally despise guns, a universal, unspoken rule between all packs, but it isn’t against it to carry one, so we have just two racks for that.
I walk to where my squad is already holstering their weapons, hurrying up so I don’t fall behind. I run through the standard safety precautions and secure everything into place, my hands working in their calming routine while I try to arrange my scattered thoughts.
“Calm down,” whispers Zeeva in my mind, her voice the softest I’ve heard all night. “It’s just a rumor. Nothing is going to happen to us. We’ll be fine. In this war and in our lives. We’ve always been fine. We have James and Olivia, and you have me and I have you. I’ll always be there for you, okay, Astris? Always.”
My heart warms inexplicably, and my chest feels fuzzy. My eyes suddenly sting as I try to reply, “I know, Zeeva. I’ll always be there for you, too. Thank you.”
She purrs, it’s soft, once more, and retreats into the back of my mind, allowing me to focus.
We fall into line as we ascend the stairs again, and I keep my eyes shut and mouth closed as we climb, trying to sink into the warmth of the words from my wolf.
Still in a single file, we break off into groups of five and pile into vans. We sit in silence while the vehicle rumbles on the road, draped in darkness. We were shaken out of our beds barely an hour ago, and it was still dark out, although it seemed brighter than before. I glance down at my watch. Four a.m.
I close my eyes for a few minutes, head falling back against the cushion behind it. I take deep breaths in and out, and before I know it, I’m asleep.
"Hey. Hey, Thorne!” Someone is grabbing my shoulder, shaking the soul out of me. “Wake up. We’ve reached our base.”
I reluctantly open my eyes, the van seat seeming all too comfortable now. I wish I could stay here forever.
But I can’t.
So I push my laziness to the back of my mind, and look out the back door. The border station is located at the North-eastern side of our pack lands, where Argentum is attacking.
The camp we’re at right now is basically a few tents and shit, not really much to see. The main base for this side of our territory is located a lot further in the lands, close to protect the border if needed, far enough away to be safe from attacks.
We walk towards a tent, one designated for our squad. We have three minutes here before we have to leave. I have nothing to do, so I just sit on a cot, thinking and rethinking, arranging and then scrambling my thoughts, like a kid with a jigsaw puzzle she has no idea how to solve.
Finally, we move out. We walk quick and fast, towards the border. There’s an invisible line marking our territory, and even though we can’t see it, it’s crystal clear to our senses.
The moment we cross it, everyone draws a harsh breath. The feeling of crossing a pack’s territory is like trying to walk through a brick wall, which also sucks the air out of our lungs. Even if you’re part of that pack, it’s next to unbearable. I can hardly imagine what it would be like to cross a foreign one.
The tree line is slightly thick, providing cover and yet still giving enough space to not get cornered. In front of us, there’s a row of huge bushes, strategically placed, yet seemingly scattered. We crouch low in some of them, now playing the waiting game.
But we’re not the only ones here, I realize after a few minutes. There are other people also hiding in the foliage, invisible until you look closely, trying to find them. They are the squads that came before us, and more are going to come.
After ten minutes, a smug smile crosses my face, because two squads have arrived. I was right. They hide, too, and soon we’re all just sitting there. I catch someone yawning, and when someone else nods off, the soldier closest to them gives a hard yet quiet shove to wake them up.
A quick glance at my watch tells me that half an hour passed. Thank the Moon I got those glowing dial and hands installed. By now, I lost track of how many squads filed in, but everyone’s separated, so it doesn’t look obvious.
A few streaks of the sun’s early morning light colours the sky a deep grayish-blue, but still considerably dark. The clouds cast shadows among themselves, like secrets not to be shared.
I was considering the possibility that the Earth and Moon wolves got it wrong, that the attack was another day, when something catches my eye.
Movement, on the far edge of my vision.
I turn quietly, sure that someone else must have seen. I creep forward, and gently touch the shoulder of the person closest to me, mind-linking her.
“Four o’clock,” I say, and she nods. Within a few seconds, the entire troupe is informed.
After a moment, I see someone nudging forward, inch by inch. He’s nearest to the man, although ‘nearest’ is ten feet. He gets closer still. We watch him slowly raise his sword, preparing to strike.
Closer…closer…
He’s only five feet away. Why can’t that man see him?
A chill runs down my spine.
Something’s wrong.
That’s the only warning my body gives me.
The world around me erupts into chaos, a pitch-black wolf pounces on someone, and that someone lets out a surprised shriek, and all our heads whip around. We were so invested in that one man, that no one noticed the wolf sneaking up on us.
Commander Hera would be disappointed in us.
I jump to my feet, and a few others have done the same before me. I pull my sword out of my sheath, angling it perfectly. I get ready to charge, but find that someone has already started to spar with the wolf. The man it pounced on was on the ground, blood spilling on the grass. He was dragged aside and then tended to.
A few seconds ago it was utterly silent, completely still. Now it felt like the entire planet was a stress ball, being tossed and turned and squeezed. People were bleeding and knives unsheathed. I was shoved around for longer than I’d like to admit, frozen to the spot in shock.
Finally, I recovered. And thank the Moon for the timing, because just a second later someone jabbed their sword hilt into my side. I thank the Moon again that my armor took most of the brunt of the hit.
I whirl, slamming my elbow into the side of her head.
Bad idea.
Especially since she was a Wind wolf.
I get thrown on my back by a quick, harsh gust of wind from behind me, my head hitting the ground. My ears ring; this has disoriented me completely. She grabs my arms and pins them with her knees, climbing on top of me. My head is still spinning, but my body knows routine. I try to push her off, almost succeeding, but she sneers in my face and secures hold again.
This is it, I think. “Zeeva,” I whisper in my mind feebly.
“No!” she growls in my mind, loud yet stern. “You are not dying, you hear me? Astris, get your shit together and throw this bitch off! You. Will. NOT. Die!” Before I can think of a response to her determined voice, she’s taken control of me.
I feel my bones breaking, reshaping, but feel only a mild tingling sensation. I’m used to this, used to her. The woman on me gets thrown off by the shift, and soon I’m standing almost six feet tall in a coat of thick, gray fur—light in my front and underbelly but gradient and dark towards the back—on all fours. I still don’t have full focus, and Zeeva is handling that for me.
“Just try to recover,” she tells me. “But make it quick, A, there’s only so long I can fight without you helping.”
I mentally nod, and try to calm. Zeeva is lightning on her paws, snapping her jaws at the woman, and eventually she gets a solid bite on her arm. The woman screams, and her skin starts smoking with her wolf trying to heal her.
She backs away, glowering at us before she shifts, too. All around us people are changing into their canine counterparts, or they already have and my slow brain is just noticing. Probably the latter.
The woman in front of me is no longer one, but a light brown wolf. Her eyes are a light gray, the colour of the eyes of Wind wolves. I take half of the control over my body, and we both snap at each other. She lunges for my mid-portion, and Zeeva skillfully evades, in such a way that we’re in a perfect position to grab her neck. We do, and I hold her in a lock until she cries out, loud and pained.
She tries to struggle free, and we both tumble down a slope into a wider clearing, although it’s still dense. I don’t let go of her neck, though. She’s still firmly in my grasp. She whines again, even more pained than before because the fall made my teeth sink further into her neck. I can’t make the kill– our minds won’t let us. I bite down for just a second longer before pinning her to the ground and letting go. We pant, chest heaving. The wolf whimpers and crawls away, heading back to Goddess knows where.
The entire array has drawn us a lot further away from our starting point. I take almost full control of our body now. I scent the air, but there’s no need to wonder about where the rest of the battle is.
The sun has risen now, the early morning day casting warm, orange light all around us, along with shadows of the twisting trees. It’s beautiful, and I would’ve loved to sit back and enjoy it if I wasn’t so busy trying to keep alive. I turn around, heading back up the slope.
Then Zeeva fully stops our body.
And a second later, I don’t need to ask why.
I feel it.
It’s an irresistible pull. It’s like something is lodged in my heart, tugging and tugging, and I can’t tell if it hurts or if it feels good.
But I know I must follow it.
So I do. I shift back into my human form, courtesy of Zeeva. My clothes are still intact— I enchanted them before we left. “Zeeva?” I ask. “What is this? Why does it…I can’t even…Zeeva?” I ask again, because she has gone silent. “Zee—”
“Shut up, would you? I have no idea what this is. I’m trying to figure it out. What do you think I am, some sort of Wikipedia?”
Whoa. No clue what’s up her ass.
“I heard that. And if you want to know what this is, put some of your senses to use, so you’re ‘not useless this time.’ ”
Zeeva and her parroting words.
I close my eyes and ignore the sounds of battle. I calm my mind and forget everything around me apart from that pull.
The one I’m sure I can’t ignore even if I was dead.
I feel it again, stronger this time, and more narrowed. It leads me closer to the woods, slightly towards the other end of the battle. I follow without hesitation, either because I’m an idiot or because the pull is too strong.
“Both,” comes the helpful answer.
I keep walking, and the feeling gets more pinpointed.
Then it slips.
It fades away for a few seconds, and, out of nowhere, I’m scared it’ll be gone forever. I walk faster, afraid to let it leave completely, but I can’t feel it anymore.
Or so I think.
It burns to life, stronger now, too, and then I’m running, racing, to find out what it is that has my heart flying out of my ribcage.
I can’t let it leave again.
I take a left, then a right, then suddenly I don’t care anymore, I just want— no, need to get there, to feel whatever I’m feeling in its full power.
I burst into a clearing, and then my racing heart stops so quickly I’d be worried I’d have a seizure if I wasn’t so focused on that tug in my heart.
On him.
He’s beautiful from where I stand, tall with lean but hard muscles. His dark hair looks glossy in the morning sun, messed up and ruffled, falling on his face.
His eyes, I can’t tell the colour from here, but I know I’ll love staring at them anyways.
His mouth, parted open and pink, soft yet seemingly harsh, but I know, after just a taste, I’ll forever crave the feel of against mine.
His chest, rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, but I know will feel soothing if my head were laying on it.
A sudden, jarring thought erupts in my mind, dizzying me so much I almost stagger to the ground.
He’s my mate.
He’s mine.
Then my vision spins with fire as the mountain explodes
