The First Wolves

9. IN THE EVENTUALITY OF LONELINESS

In the silence of the morning, before the town woke or the cockerels called, Conri moved his pack out of the sewers and on to the path towards Vestini. Memorising the details from the map, the Alpha recalled seeing a dense forest that had a grey square planted into its centre. Inexplicably, Conri felt the need to lead his pack to that area. When he explained the unusual pull to Fidella, she admitted that she also felt an instinctive need to explore what was there. Exercising caution, the two leaders sent their best scouts ahead, while they set a moderate pace to meet the varied abilities of their pack members. Seeing that Holda was alone, Jenny rushed over and chatted away with her until her shoulders dropped, and the tension left her. It wasn’t long before Fidella and Iselda joined them, and they were soon laughing more than they were speaking, their mates looking on with pride at their ability to include anyone.

Halfway through their journey, the pounding of paws alerted them to the arrival of Ewan and his team.

“That was so much fun!” Ewan laughed through the mind-link to Conri. “The entire legion marched to the mountains, following every trail we lay in their path, celebrating every patch of piss they found from our wolves. The general was leading the way with complete confidence, even though the sun was shining off his armour too brightly for his eyes, so he was forced to keep squinting into the distance. We lingered out of sight, only to watch the general berating an old tracker when he reported that they could see no camp or wolves. We’ve all been laughing about it ever since,” Ewan chuckled, causing Conri to break out into laughter.

“He won’t like what I left for him to find in Sabini,” Conri deviously smirked, once his bout of laughter had calmed down.

“What did you do? Fidella asked.

“I told anyone who wanted to join in with taunting the general to s**t on the floor where I had carved a wolf's head into the wall. When we left, it had started to resemble a mountain!” he roared with laughter.

Conri’s self-assured smirk was so infectious that everyone who heard the story was breathless with hilarity. It was the silly positivity they all needed.

Sounds of the night played like nature’s score. The baritone base of the bull frog to the woodwind sounds of the owls, and the back drop of calming crunches under the feet of the plodding pack was like a rhythmic percussion section. They were tired and nature’s lullaby lulled them all into a sleepy state of mind. Even Bruno, who had been insistent on staying awake, was now being carried in Iselda’s arms. Therefore, it was a shock when Otto and Rufus came bounding towards them, bouncing on their paws with such excitement that they yapped in their wolf forms, forgetting they should mind-link.

“Alpha, Luna, you have to see what we have found, it is so beautiful. It’s not of this world. It looks like the temple that the moon Goddess would live in. Come and see,” they yelled jubilantly to the ranked members of the pack.

Amos ran to Holda, having not greeted her properly in his wolf form yet. He nuzzled her neck and licked her cheek, and she ran both her thumbs along his nose and then arched them over his eyebrows. They had both forgotten that gesture, but it was an inbuilt response to seeing him on her part.

Intrigued, Conri and Fidella raced ahead, allowing the pack to rest until they returned, guarded by Ewan and Iselda. Although they approached the sight with hesitation, concerned it may be a trap, the vision ahead of them was majestic. Tall columns stood like sentries, guarding the long forgotten temple. Branches were reaching out to shelter it from the harsher realities of nature, their arms were touching them, creating an arch that framed the picturesque setting. Ruins were dressed by the vines that blanketed the floor and twisted up the columns, nature had reclaimed the man-made structure, and elevated its appearance. A temple for nature, captured by nature.

“It feels safe.” Fidella mind linked to Conri, while Isla was brushing her fur up against the soft leaves.

Peace imbued from the temple. Conri nodded in reply, Einar had already laid down on the soft green. Both Alpha and Luna were unwilling to rupture the reverence that poured from the holy ruin.

“It’s changed,” Einar noted, causing Conri to be confused.

“It feels the same,” Isla replied, perplexing Fidella.

“Have you two been here before?” Fidella asked them, but as was their way sometimes, both wolves didn’t reply.

They often had moments of mystery that they wouldn’t elaborate on.

After completing a tour to ensure it was safe, Conri instructed Ewan to bring the pack to this miraculous camp.

Serenity was soon broken with the arrival of the pups, who were excited by the strange tall building that was covered in green moss, and untouched statues. Many of the wolves were too young to remember how the moon Goddess, Selene, was once worshipped with offerings left at her temple in return for favours that were prayed for to be answers. The elders remembered and gravitated towards the inner temple. They were solemn in their progression, as they admired the statues and depictions of the Goddess who had abandoned them. Their hands brushed over the pedestals reverently, but Winnifred was fixated on the largest statue at the far end of the temple. To other members of the pack, she appeared devout, but it wasn’t her ardent faith that had her eyes locked on the sculpture of the marble-crafted Goddess. In fact, it was the recognisable features that had hooked Winnifred’s attention.

Long ago, Winnifred had known of a priestess who devoted herself to the Goddess Selene. When the wolves were trapped by the Slavery Bill, the lone priestess in the temple closest to the House of Heaton smuggled many wolves who longed for freedom through her temple and out of the city. Five years after the Bill was passed, the tolerance for any association with the old mysticism was criminalised and the temples who had managed to survive the first wave of secular superior ideas did not survive the second. No wolf had a Goddess to protect them, and this additional sense of unworthiness made eradicating the last of the temples an easy process. Winnifred had heard the rumours of the defiant priestess, who refused to leave the temple. When the soldiers came for her, she was burning the scrolls that contained all the information about the werewolf kind, eviscerating the knowledge that would have revealed the weaknesses of the species she swore to serve. Enraged, the human soldiers pulled her from the temple, and made her watch as they set it alight until it burned to ashes. Many called her the martyred matron, some criticised her betrayal of humans, and some people mourned her passing, missing her gentle nature. Winnifred knew her as Neoma, the woman who helped her save Ewan. The pain of her sacrifice was so great that the matriarch had locked the feeling in the pantry inside her mind, vowing to keep them at bay. However, the likeness on the statue’s face was so similar to Neoma’s that she couldn’t help but spend some time thinking about the priestess who had saved Ewan, and the example she had set.

Pups were prolonging their bedtime by asking their Luna for the story they had missed out on. Mum’s looked exhausted as they pulled out the essentials they would need from their small gathering of supplies. Many wolves were volunteering for extra patrols and guard duties, all sharing a connected feeling of needing to protect the sacred area, and their pack. Meanwhile, Ewan sought out Iselda. He was concerned about her after being told of her excessive violence at the pleasure house. She was sitting on the perimeter of the defence she had put in place, looking at the tender glances between Conri and Fidella. Jerrick’s inability to keep his hands off his mate’s bump was adorable, even though it seemed to frustrate Jenny, who couldn’t get any of her jobs done.

“You OK, Gamma?” Ewan interrupted her observations, and she was glad for the distraction.

“Sure, I’m OK. How was the mountain run?” She enquired.

“Hard in places, but worth it to see the general’s expression at the end,” he chuckled.

He took a moment to read her body language, her slumped shoulders and her sloped lines around her mouth all screamed of a sadness she was trying to hide.

“Conri told me you hit some of those humans pretty hard in Sabini,” Ewan confronted her directly.

“Are you here as my friend, or as my Beta”, She snapped, but he refrained from answering.

Iselda began chewing the inside of her cheek, a habit she always did when she was nervous, and her gamma status hadn’t quelled this idiosyncrasy.

“Do you think I’ll ever have a mate?” She asked Ewan.

“I hope so. It’s becoming more likely as we free more wolves. Andre found his after all this time.” He answered, honestly.

Iselda nodded, contemplating what he had said for a moment.

“When we were walking through each room, I could hear the other pack members trying to figure out what was happening, and what all the paraphernalia was for. I pretended I didn’t know, and said nothing at first. I lied. I knew what it was all for and how to use it, and I even know how some of them feel,” Iselda tried to explain, but the murky path between who she was and how she wanted to be perceived made her expression unclear.

“Is that what made you angry? Did you want to punish those humans, because you couldn’t when you were there as a slave?” Ewan asked, sympathetically.

Thinking about his question a moment longer, she considered his assumption to see if it rang true. Eventually, she nodded her head.

“There’s a partial truth to that, but I am not angry at all humans because of the actions of those who have wronged me. I’m not really angry about my past, because I recognise it can’t be changed. Being angry at something unalterable would ruin the life I have now. I’m angry about the future, and how places like the Open Purse and House of Heaton will affect my future. When I was a pleasure slave, I had no future, so I didn’t consider how it would affect a mate I wasn’t going to meet. Now, I do have a future and I am worried that when I tell him what I was, he will be repulsed.” Iselda expanded on her worries.

“You know mates are made to love us. Why would you think yours would turn away from you?” Ewan tried to clarify.

“I saw our warriors and friends when I was there, and their expressions were filled with horror, and disgust…and pity. They were repulsed by what had been my reality for most of my twenties. One day, I’ll meet my mate and I will see the same look on his face that I saw on my Alpha’s and Luna’s. I was angry because I realised for the first time that no-body would want a mate like me. I’m used, broken and ruined. I hit them humans, and then I couldn’t stop.” Iselda admitted before she quickly wiped the lone tear from her cheek.

Ewan held her by her shoulders, and twisted her to face him. He was angry too, but for a different reason.

“If your mate cannot see the magnificent she-wolf that he has been gifted by the moon Goddess, then you don’t want him as a mate, and the moon Goddess needs to rethink her pairings. You are the kind of leader, Gamma, woman that men kill for, and die for.” He insisted.

“I’m worried that I’ll be rejected and no-one will ever want me. I’m not afraid of dying for our freedom, but if I do die I hope it’s in somebody’s arms, somebody who cares for me,” She sighed. “I just don’t want to be alone,” She confessed, miserably.

“In the eventuality of loneliness, if neither of us finds our mates by our mid-thirties, I’d love to be your chosen mate, if you would have me. Even if you decline, I promise that if you are ever injured on the battlefield, I will be there with you. Whether it be as your friend or mate, you’ll find peace in my arms.” Ewan promised her.

He knew he could be happy with Iselda, and his offer was genuine.

“You will always find peace in my arms too, Ewan. I’d love to accept you as my chosen mate, if the loneliness becomes a pain too heavy to hide.” Iselda agreed, and hugged Ewan in gratitude.

It remained unclear who leaned in first, but Ewan placed a gentle kiss upon her lips, which she returned tentatively. It was a chaise kiss, almost platonic, but one that promised that they would be there for each other, until the end.

Andre was preparing the blankets for Melissa, who always seemed to feel the cold. She was staring at the temple, admiring the details.

“We can go and have a look inside if you want?” Andre offered, but she shook her head.

“I don’t believe in the Goddess. A mother couldn’t let her children suffer like we have.” Melissa replied.

She moved her hair over her shoulder, exposing her fresh mark, and lay down on the soft, make-shift bed looking at her handsome mate. Andre had met her in the sewers, but she had been rescued from a counting house in the town. The work hadn’t been arduous, but her master was cruel and only used slaves so that he could beat them when the mood took him. Everyone was talking about the possibility of being reunited with their families. The hope in the pack was sickening to her. She could remember her parents very well, but the memory that was the most vivid was when they were sold to another family far away and didn’t even fight to stay with her.

“You’ll never leave me, will you?” She asked her mate, even though she hardly knew him.

“No. I will be by your side for all my days.” Andre reassured her, kissing her forehead tenderly.

“And I will stay by yours,” She replied honestly, and gently kissed his lips.

Andre was shocked, but overjoyed by her reaction. An entire adulthood of hunting and now he was finally caught by the person who would have his heart for eternity. If there was one bit of hope that Melissa was willing to cling to, Andre being her future was the faith she was willing to believe in, so she kissed him more deeply and let and let the bond take hold.