Tahana

“When is he marking you?” Luke asked me on our way to the great hall.

“He wants it to be special - rest, I don’t know, ” I tell him.

He looks at me disapprovingly “you are the Luna. Leaving you unmarked is foolish.”

I rub my neck which had gone sore from bending too much. I see him open his mouth to say something.

“Don’t ask. I have been trying to see through the haze for months, months and it still shows me nothing.”

“Why are you so eager anyway?”

We stop outside the hall doors.

“I don’t know Luke ...It’s like this gut feeling that keeps telling me that something is wrong. That this” I said gesturing towards the happy clutter of the werepeople inside the hall “is the calm before the storm”

“You should tell this to your mate. A luna’s intuition is never wrong ” he said opening the doors for me.

I give him a small smile before making my way to my mate.

The silent reverence of my people was something that I got used to. The hall gradually quietened down as I walked towards him. His eyes were hooked on me with a burning intensity that made me weak in my resolve to act professionally.

Mate. One word to describe my entire existence and everything it stands for. I loved being a leader but fiercer was my love for the man who sat at the head of the table with blond hair falling across his blue eyes.

Before I could reach the table there was a scream and the gate of the hall crashed open. A werewolf stood there. Left-arm missing and every inch of his body covered in blood.

“Under attack,” he said before he fell and died on the floor.

I looked at my mate in alarm but he was already issuing orders. Who would do this to us? I asked myself. we’re at peace with all the packs around. No pack would attack us unless...

Unless they are not werewolves at all. My mate came to that conclusion at the same time I did. Our eyes met and I was out of the hall in seconds.

The packed house was six stories high and the top gave us a good enough view of the horizons. Reaching there without breaking a sweat I pushed past the archers who were staring ahead fearfully. I understood their fear completely when I saw what we were up against.

Something more terrible than the warriors of 11 pack put together. We were not up against werewolves. No, Our fight was with creatures far more deadlier.

Witches.

Their armies had thousands of them. And our side? We only had me.

Artemis help us all.

War. When you hear the word you imagine two armies neatly aligned run a great expanse to meet each other head-on, merging in the middle like waves crashing over the shore. You imagine the sound of swords meeting shields, a side winning and warcries in the air. You picture heroes servicing justice to those who deserve it.

You couldn’t be farther from the truth. There were no neat army lines, there was chaos. There was no steel clang but there was the sound of flesh being ripped apart. Blood was everywhere and its smell was all consuming. There were no heroes only selfish needs and pawns. The air was humming with the coppery feel I had come to associate with magic. Except it was not the citrus feel of magic in my veins flowing in swirls, it was the kind of magic that made me want to claw at my skin until there was nothing left. Magic so strong it made your very presence cower, magic that was currently ravaging my people. Magic that comes from the numerous witches standing against us with only their thirst for power guiding them.

I turned around and entered the tent set up on a cliff above the battlefield. He was standing with his bare back to me. His muscles rippling even with his slightest of moves. The scars that covered his skin reminded me of the numerous battles we had fought together and won.

“They are being slaughtered. We have to do something and do it fast before -” that is when my eyes fell on the thing he was staring at. “What is that doing here?” I asked him almost scared of his answer.

He turned slowly and looked me in the eye and what I saw there only confirmed my worst fears. I took a step back from him.

“I can’t do it. You know I can’t. I am not worthy enough nor am I strong enough to wield that. Please -”

“It’s our only chance ” he replied. “We don’t stand a chance against those witches not even if you managed to wipe out a third of them with the little magic you have in you.”

I knew what he said was true. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t realize I was crying until he reached out to wipe the tears away. I closed my eyes and melted into him. I heard their distant shouts of suffering and whimpered.

“Do it.”

The love and trust in his eyes were all that kept me going at this point. I knew it might not work but it was the only choice we had. So, I walked past him and picked up the two swords on the raised dais.

The twin swords of Esmeralda first Queen of all werewolves. It could give you power and victory in a lost battle. Give you enough to rule the world and everyone in it without so much as a thought. But it could also give you the worst suffering in the world, the worst pain, and failure if you were not worthy of it. Were not worthy of its legacy. Were not a true Luna.

It was a death sentence and I took it anyway.

I turned to him “We are gonna lose this battle.” I told him still thinking of what laid ahead.

He crossed the space between us and held me close. His breath fanned my ear as I heard him speak.

The battle was intense when we entered it. Blood was everywhere and eerily enough reminded of the place I thought I was born to be in -- a battlefield.

I unsheathed my own sword and unleashed myself on them. It was a rhythm I knew all too well. Kill, kill, kill. I held the wolf I was current fighting by his neck lifting his body above the ground and plunged my sword into his heart and threw him aside. I saw Davina struggling to fight off the wolf above her and charged when suddenly a burst of energy hit me and had me flying through the air.

I stood up in a flash and looked at the witch who attacked me. I threw away my sword and attacked her with my own magic. Tangy and sweet but deadly all the same. She crumbled in front of me. Seeing their sister die soon many of them were surrounding me. A moment did not pass and we were fighting. A dozen of them against one of me.

I knew I couldn’t hold out longer and with great apprehension unsheathed the twin swords. It was glittering in all its glory and it made them stop for a moment. Not for long though. We were fighting again but this time I could feel the swords’ magic respond to mine. My pack members were dying faster. We were losing I knew.

I was still outnumbered by a lot. Swing, slash, thrust. Again and again. It all looked on the brighter side until the sword gave a dark shudder. Spreading a chill that I felt in my bones. My worst fears were finally recognized. I kept fighting.

Swing.

There might be a thousand possibilities of us losing. I heard him whisper tucking my hair.

Slash.

A thousand possibilities of us being separated.

Thrust.

A thousand possibilities of every dark thing happening to us.

The sword was a dead weight in my hand. Unresponsive and foreboding. They were gaining in on me. I kept fighting.

But until there is even one possibility of us winning

They were almost close enough to touch.

Until even one possibility of us not being separated stands. One possibility of us winning...

One of them blasted the sword out of my hand.

We would fight.

I threw the other and kept fighting. My magic reserves were dwindling rapidly.

We are walking into this knowing we might not return. But we will fight. With everything, we’ve got.

I resort to my bare hands now knowing my wolf would be of no use against them. One of them dug their claws into my thighs.

And even if we lose ...they would see us. They and all the generations after them will know that it took all of them to put us out.

They had me surrounded. At their mercy. A dagger through the arm and I clench my teeth. Refusing to give in.

Yet we will burn. In every dark day and in every dark ending we will burn like hope.

I look up towards the sky. Hoping, praying.

We will not give up.

They picked up Esmeralda’s sword and readied myself.

I love you

“I love you”

And she plunged the sword into my abdomen. A scream left my throat. But there was a rumbling in the ground. A rumbling so deep...

And then there was a flash. Obliterating everything. It threw me against the ground. Blinded me.

When I woke from the momentary blackness, I wished I was dead.

There were lifeless bodies everywhere. Not a single creature was standing, not even witches and in the midst of it all she stood with a content smile.

She was wearing clothes made out of wolf skin. Blood dripping from everywhere, none of it her own. She was the one who had killed everyone, even her own, without a thought. She was still smiling when she faced the sky.

And then I screamed. It was involuntary as I felt the most painful burn wash through me. It was not physical. No. It went far deeper. My soul tore out in two and my wolf was suddenly pulled out. Like it never existed.

That is when I saw him. Walking out from the forest. Blood covering every inch of him. The monster behind all this. He was smiling, his sharp teeth on display for me to see. I saw him and with him, I saw every reason I was in pain.

Another bloodcurdling scream left me as I saw what he was holding in his hand. I clawed my skin and looked for a weapon tool anything to end this suffering. Nothing made sense.

He held ahead by its hair. The body missing, veins and flesh still hanging out.

My mate.

All at once I went numb. It was over. It will be over for me soon too. I saw him walk towards me. My mate’s blood still clung to him and I could do nothing except wait for him to end me. I wanted to go where my mate was. Where we could be together.

He came close and kneeled. Blond hair dripping in crimson.

Luna. He whispered and chuckled.

I closed my eyes waiting for it to come. Waiting for death to come. But he didn’t give me that mercy.

He gave me punishment for my existence. Punishment for everything that I represented. He gave the most humiliating and painful punishment one could give to a female can.

He marked me.