The Wolf King's Second Chance Mate

Sleep and Sleeplessness

Lyria had no idea what this kind of contest would even entail. But she knew she had no choice but to accept, because she couldn’t endanger the futures of her siblings by refusing. Though she saw them more rarely since she had become a Warrior, Lyria loved her family deeply. They had grown up poor and subservient Omegas, but they had grown up in a family of warmth and love. Her parents, even when they hadn’t believed she could become a Warrior, had always let her try. They scraped together the money to hire her a trainer the year before she took the test, they sacrificed their own dinners some nights so she would have the energy she needed to practice, they did everything they could to support her dreams.

 As Lyria trudged home by the dull light of the sliver of moon in the sky, she thought about what Alpha Windmere had said when she begrudgingly agreed to join the challenge. That her job was to show up, to compete as hard as possible, and bring honor to the pack. 

“If you’re even capable of such a thing,” he had sneered. Then he had told her not to come back before the final ten contestants or she would be banished from the pack. The way he had said it made it clear he fully expected her to lose early. He fully expected to finally get rid of at least one Moonglow. In the back of her mind somewhere, she thought he might use her failure to rid himself of the entire family in one fell swoop. If she lost and dishonored Winding Road, perhaps he would banish her family with her. And if she refused, she knew he definitely would. No traitors and no traitor blood, as Alpha Windmere was so fond of saying.

She walked along the dimly lit paths to her dreary, one story home, still pondering Alpha Windmere’s inexplicable hatred for the Moonglows. She had asked her mother, once, long ago. But she was told not to ask questions. ‘It happened a long time ago,’ her mother had told her, ‘it doesn’t matter now.’ Lyria had never worked up the courage to ask again, intimidated by the way her mother’s usually kind and bright face had darkened, the way she had become sad and withdrawn for hours after Lyria had asked, as though it had stirred up some information that was too painful to even think about, let alone share.

These thoughts brought her to her front door, and she unlocked the door in a haze, her thoughts still drifting. The door creaked open with a noise that would be ominous if Lyria was not long since used to it. Her home was one which, until it was assigned to her a few years ago, had been unused for almost a decade. It was no more than a cottage, with one floor and only one bedroom. Warriors were exalted packmembers and usually received at least two bedroom homes closer to the town center, but as Lyria suffered from the double black mark of coming from a family of Omegas and the Moonglow family, she knew she was in no position to complain. 

In any case, she rather liked her quiet cabin. She planted flowers in the front garden and kept a birdbath out front, something that would cause her to be mocked mercilessly closer to town. Though the town square and the homes of highly ranked wolves were themselves beautifully maintained, no one but Omegas planted or tended to flowers, nor were Warriors expected to care for living and growing things. Most Warriors didn’t even keep pets, unless to placate their young pups.

But living so close to the edge of the town, Lyria could indulge in her love of gardening. Only a very few people had ever visited her home. And while the outside of her home was made of old, weathered wood and rusted metal, the flowers made it feel merely whimsical rather than sad. 

Lyria rushed from the front door into her kitchen to pour herself some water from the jug sitting on her table, stopping only to light a candle in a large candle holder near the front door. Once it was lit, she made her way past it and into the kitchen. Then she leaned against her counter and stared out into her living room as she drank from her rough hewn wooden cup, which she had carved herself. She had very little furniture beyond the necessities. A wood stove, table, a basin for washing up, countertops, and a few plates, bowls, and cups all made of wood were all that she had in the kitchen. There was a door into a small underground cellar filled with ice for storing meat, though the ice seemed to always melt on her toward the end of summer. On shelves above the cabinets she had jars and jars of smoked and preserved meats and vegetables. She always kept a large jug of water on one counter, which she refilled from the well outside her house every morning, and she tried to keep milk in the ice room whenever possible. However, it was a rare treat to have milk, as she was usually the last of the Warriors to have a chance to claim rations.

In her living room she had a rug with red detailing stitched with the stars and the moon, which had been given to her by her mother. It was one of the few nice things she owned. She had a small fireplace and two chairs in the living room and next to it, a few shelves she had built herself with books and loose paper and ink she used for writing her thoughts down sometimes.

Though she was trying not to, Lyria couldn’t help but linger her thoughts on the last thing that Alpha Windmere had told her, specifically that King Wolfsblood would be sending delegates to make their selections. It was not, officially, Alpha Windmere’s choice. 

Winding Road was throwing a ball for the delegates, he told her, one which she would attend. The purpose was for the delegates to meet and evaluate all the eligible wolves in the pack to decide which wolves were the most promising potential wives for the King.

“I will take care of introducing you to the delegates, and you will be charming, witty, and look beautiful. Aertis will be instructed to come to your house tomorrow to help you shop for a dress,” he had instructed her. 

Of course, Lyria had no money for a dress, but she hadn’t objected. Alpha Windmere wouldn’t have cared.

Lyria repressed a small chuckle as she sipped the rest of her water, thinking of the conflict Aertis must be feeling. She loved to shop, but she’d be horrified at the thought of Lyria leaving before her wedding. After a few moments of imagining the kinds of large, lacy dresses Aertis would force her into the next day, she finished her water.

Exhausted, she dropped her wooden cup into the basin on the counter, promising herself she would do the washing up in the morning. She always rose with the sun, though most wolves naturally slept late. After all, they were inherently nocturnal creatures, shaped and given power by the light of the moon, the Goddess incarnate. She had never known why she preferred to rise in the morning at the first light, even when she had a late night of guard duty. It was unusual for her to be so tired, when it was not even midnight and she hadn’t even been on duty, only morning training. 

She realized as she climbed into bed that it was an emotional exhaustion. Her body didn’t feel tired, but her mind was screaming for sleep. In her sparse bedroom, which was small and cozy and taken up mostly by her large bed, she always had the curtains left open. At night, the light of the Goddess sparkled through her window pane. She had replaced the plain windows glass with one she had painted ink onto, a scene of blue sky and yellow and red stars. 

It was in that light that Lyria felt calm enough to relax, to fall asleep. She almost never slept well anywhere else. Most wolves didn’t dream, but Lyria often did. Another mystery of her existence that she had never found an answer to.

Laying in bed, her brain still begging for sleep, Lyria pondered her fate. She found comfort in one thing, which was that she had never hoped or expected to find a mate anyway. Some didn’t. The Goddess worked in mysterious ways, and not every wolf had a mate. Some wolves had mates they never met, or met a day before their death, even. Lyria had always imagined she might be one such wolf. The shame of her birth status, the stigma of her last name, and the Alpha’s persistent refusal to allow her to take any missions that might take her off of pack lands meant that she had a slim hope of finding a mate. And if by some miracle, the Goddess had a mate for her within Winding Road Pack, she knew he would most likely reject her for being disfavored by the Alpha. So she expected to live, and die, alone.

If anyone was going to spend their life in a loveless marriage, perhaps she was the best choice. She certainly had no other options.