The Last Pack

2. THE SALE, THE SAVIOUR AND THE SECRETS

Firstly, she noticed the items of silver coiled around each wolf’s neck, to prevent them shifting, the skin beneath was raw and blistered like a severe burn. Thankfully, before today, she had never had this used on her because the former Dominus believed she was sixteen and yet to shift into a wolf. The slaver parked his wagon near a wooden platform and began to attach a wolf's lead to the woman in the cage next to her. Lifting the wolf on to his shoulders, it was clear how he had managed to procure such muscles, hoisting his unwilling cargo. Fidella could smell the terror radiating off her in waves as she walked up the steps that led to the auctioneer. The bidding began, but contrary to Fidella’s expectations, the crowd was silent, reflecting the privileged indifference of the potential buyers. Everyone here was too human to care for the sorrow of a she-wolf. Only the voice of the auctioneer and the cheer of the gavel post-sale could be heard. Only the small nod of the bidder’s head indicated any communication, it had the same emotional climate as shopping for food ingredients. A necessary chore. When a price was agreed upon for the sale of the she-wolf, the buyer simply grabbed the lead and pulled her behind him like a dog. Fidella saw the woman bow her head in total submission, accepting her fate.

               Leighton was pleased with the profit he had gained as his final offering was dragged, crying from the stage. His mood was substantially elevated by his remaining prize as he planned his evening on how to wear her defiance down. He was so absorbed in his vision he didn’t notice the approach of Ewan until he bumped into his arm. Recognising his own inferiority, Leighton began to apologise profusely to Ewan, but it was futile.

               Ewan despised being sent to the slaver’s market, the hatred he felt emitted from him like a skilful flail creating a ring of distance around him, people were scared of him. He liked being thought of this way. There was nothing on offer that the Dominus and Domina of his house would want. They were very selective. Deciding to leave and venture further out of the city to a superior market, he turned and collided with the slaver Leighton. Anger ignited in him as he lifted Leighton off his feet and pinned him against his own wagon. He raised his fist with the full intention of pummelling his face until it resembled raw meat. He paused as the only slave in the cage caught his eye. Reprieve wasn’t something he was famed for, but he knew he had to bring this she-wolf back to the master of the house. More importantly, he had to bring her to his friend.

“How much for the slave in your cage?” Ewan asked as he lowered Leighton back onto the ground.

“She’s not for sale yet,” Retorted Leighton, “She’s too rebellious and needs training first,” His hedonist snigger conveyed his intentions all too clearly.

Ewan couldn’t decide which emotion was more intense: his disgust for the abhorrent man or the rage that said man thought he would be unable to control the beautiful yet simple she-wolf.

“You seem to think you have a choice, slaver Leighton, I am taking that girl and you can leave with money or a permanent physical impairment. Make your choice!”

               Ewan watched Leighton fumble with the cluster of keys, before retrieving the one to open the she-wolf’s cage. As she emerged from the silver crate, he was able to take a closer look at his purchase. She was very pale, although Ewan expected that this was a result of spending hours surrounded by silver, her brunette hair was voluminous and framed her face with soft waves that fell to her waist. There were two features in particular that made her worthy of his Master and Mistress. Her sky blue eyes were truly unique, emphasised by her thick long lashes and the deep cupid’s bow on her upper lip. Ewan allowed his eyes to evaluate her further, he pulled her shoulder, encouraging her to turn. She had an open back toga on and the skin on her back was completely unblemished. Sighing in relief, he was pleased with this, as a scarred slave was worth less and his employers only accepted perfection. She raised her pointed chin at him and Ewan almost smiled at her bravery. Not many people could hold his gaze. He inhaled deeply, mainly to see if he needed to take her to a bathhouse before presenting her. Noticing a metallic iron smell on her, he once again surveyed her before seeing a silver bangle cuffed around her wrist. Undoubtedly, she must have been in pain and her stubborn courage that verged on pride was impressive.

“Remove it now,” Ewan demanded dispassionately, while once again becoming frustrated by Leighton’s dithering.

Finally, the cuffs hit the floor with a thud and Ewan made eye contact with the blue-eyed beauty. However, this time something shifted, and it was as if this petite slave suddenly held all the power. Ewan felt the need to do something he had only done once before. Bare his neck in respect. Hearing her sharp intake of breath, he realised she knew his secret and he knew hers.

               Relief had surged through Fidella’s entire midsection, as she realised she had been spared from the repulsive slaver’s attentions. She could be rescued by Hades himself and it would have been a better option than Leighton. Fidella was so pleased by this turn of events that she uttered no protest as the new man assessed her as he would a horse. She observed that he was unusually tall for a human, his jaw line was squared, but softened by a neatly trimmed beard, and his nose was fairly straight except for a small but deep scar near the bridge. He had blue eyes that screamed with constant suspicion and distrust and his eyebrows appeared to be fixed in a permanent frown. The slaver seemed comically stunted next to the mysterious man in front of her, even though there was no doubt that he was the least dangerous to her out of the two of them.

Initially, alleviation was her first emotion as the silver handcuff conked onto the ground, followed by shock at her first intake of breath as she inhaled the unmistakeable scent of wolf. Somehow, he was a free wolf, and as soon as she was able to, she would be questioning this miraculous ruse. Wonder soon morphed into fear at the last stop of her emotional rainbow as she could see his need to submit before her, the shock on his face as he realised her ultimate secret.

Fidella had to stop him from showing her any reverence. She stumbled into his body and, as she had hoped, he reached out to catch her.

“You keep my secret and I will keep yours,” She whispered and acknowledged the exiguous nod before she resumed her upright position.

               Making a safe distance from the market and that irksome slaver, Ewan continued to steal side glances at the she-wolf, his frown growing ever deeper. She shivered and he removed his cloak and placed it on her shoulders. Perplexing. Ewan had never felt the need to show kindness to a stranger before.

“We need to talk,” Fidella tentatively approached Ewan, “Otherwise we will both get caught.”

Ewan simply nodded his head and studied her, waiting for her to begin.

“How are you a free wolf?” Fidella asked forthwith.

“I wear a scent suppressant around humans. This allows me to act and be free like them and not be noticed by other wolves. My name is Ewan, by the way,” He laughed.

Fidella blushed at not asking his name before interrogating him.

“I don’t think your suppressant is working today, maybe you need to spray more,” She offered her unrequested advice before adding “My name is Fidella.”

To both their surprise, Ewan let out a hearty laugh.

“You can smell me Fidella, because of who you are. You have a superior sense of smell.”

“Who else knows about you?” She enquired.

“All the wolves where we are going know. I only keep it a secret from the humans. I’m looking for some information about some slaves they used to own and for that I need them to trust me. When I am there I behave like the Dominus, but it’s all an act and you must remember that.”

“Where are we going?” Fidella asked for the first time, worried about their destination.

“Heaton House,” Ewan replied, looking down at the ground.

Fidella’s heart sank. She wondered if she would have been better staying with Leighton, the violence at the House of Heaton was infamous. It was the home of the most highly skilled gladiators and the most obedient slaves. Ewan could feel her distress, through her body that had suddenly become taut with tension. He did feel bad about bringing her to the Heatons, but he promised himself he would watch over her.

“How about if we stay a night in the nearest taberna, it will ensure that your wrist is fully healed and you can have a night to prepare for your new life?” Ewan hated being at Heaton House, so the offer was as beneficial to him as it was to her. He was relieved when she nodded her head in agreement. 

“When we get to Heaton's house you will find another wolf like you, an Alpha wolf,” Ewan divulged.

Fidella’s eyes widened at this information; an Alpha wolf! Maybe it would be her brother. The longing for this to be true was so great that she could visualise their reunion. How she would wrap her arms around him and breathe in his scent. She abruptly stopped and turned to Ewan.

“What is his name?” Inadvertently, she had shown her desperation and released her Alpha command in her question.

 “He is the champion of the House of Heaton, his name is Conri. You will meet him soon,” Ewan was compelled to answer.

An awkward silence fell upon them that was only intensified by the acidic tang of disappointment. Ewan didn’t know what she was looking for, but it was clear that his answer had not been the one she had hoped for.

“You have to be careful with your aura. I’ve never met a female Alpha and I have lived free for a long time before I went to work for the Heatons. That means you are in incredible danger. If the Heatons find out, at best they will make you into a gladiator and you’ll be forced to kill needlessly. They might sell you off at the highest price, maybe to the capital. In the worse case scenario, they will kill you for fear that you will threaten them. They only keep Conri because he was born there, he doesn’t know what freedom means, and his only goal in life is to be a champion gladiator. You know you might be the last one, don’t you?” Ewan asked gently.

“I know Ewan, I have kept it a secret since the moment they captured me. I know how much danger I am in,” Fidella said with dispassionate finality.