Chapter 5

Beta Troy

The forest is the most serene, harmonious place I have ever seen. Trudging through thickets and bramble, I hear leaves and twigs crunch under my boots. The forest has a sense of magic about her, she truly is enchanting.

Halfway through the forest, I hear the sound of trickling water. Feeling quite thirsty after such a long trek, I follow the sound, and eventually find a stunning waterfall. I hold my flask underneath the stream, for a while to fill it, before having a drink.

In the distance someone with a very melodic voice sings a very beautiful song.

I make my way toward West Wallow in human form, and arrive a few hours later. Had I been in my wolf form, I would have arrived much sooner, but going undetected by the humans, when war approaches, is extremely crucial.

I wander around the market in Wellmore, and buy some of the juiciest fruit I have ever had. The King’s soldiers stop at stalls with carts, and place half the contents on the wooden tables, into wooden crates. A soldier addresses the whole village with an announcement.

‘By order of King Fenris! King Fenris orders everyone to again donate half their food to their sovereign. These donations will feed his soldiers, when we prepare go to war against Alpha King Damon.’ Shit! The rumours are true. This is going to lead to war, humans outnumber werewolves thrice. We’re not our strongest without a Luna.

I look at the goods belonging to a stall beside me, and my stomach lurches when I realise what I’m seeing. Furs belonging to my kind, displayed on metal iron hooks, with little fox furs.

Werewolf fur! They’re the ones killing the rogues. Pack wolves or rogues - this should not be happening to our kind!

A young girl accidently bumps into the wooden table underneath the hooks, and the pelts on the hooks sway from side to side. ‘I'm so sorry...’ the young girl apologises, and the stall-holder assures her not to worry.

She clasps a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, shocked by what this stall is selling. Reserving my disgust, I purchase all of the werewolf hides from the stall, and sling them over my shoulder, in the hessian sack they’re put into. The girl watches me, and then runs off.

Poor thing. She was just as horrified as I was at the sight of them. Odd, a human is so upset over them though. No one else bats an eyelid.

Walking back toward the edge of the forest with the pelts, I try not imagining their last moments. Humans should not be purchasing our fur to turn it into clothing! Our fur should not be hung up in their homes as trophies or ornaments.

After burying the hides, I return to Wellmore Village. I approach a group of middle-aged women, sitting on wooden crates, crocheting, and ask them if they can tell me anything about the wolf pelts. They give each other funny looks before one of them speaks.

‘Men scour the forest, to hunt and kill lone wolves, and bring back their pelts to sell at market. It has helped everyone pay the tax rise. They fetch more at market than a normal wolf because they’re thrice the size. Most of the villages in West Wallow sell these pelts. Regular men hunt them, and make a pretty penny doing it. If taxes are unpaid, it’s five lashes by King’s orders,’ she explains. I thank the women and head to the next village.

Arriving in Treehold at sunset, a group of locals complain about the tax-hike, and the food shortage they

now face. An elderly lady chats quietly with her husband, outside a tavern.

‘We can barely afford the regular tax! I know war costs money, and protection from the werewolves is paramount, but where does he expect us to get the money from?’ She says, her hands clasped in her lap.

‘My dear, it puts us, and all of Treehold in dire straits. I might just have to accept lashes instead.’ Her husband says, patting her knee.

‘Don’t talk nonsense, Harold, you old fool! If anyone is going to get lashes, it’ll be the soldiers, by me!’

‘Now, who’s talking nonsense Margaret? My dear, they’d execute you on the spot if you tried to fight them. We’d be very lucky if they didn't burn our house down for it,’ Harold says.

‘You’re right. We’ll just have to think of a way to come up with the money,’ Margaret sighs, and I approach the couple.

‘Good evening, I am wondering if you can direct me to your local Tavern, please?’

Margaret cocks a brow, and looks me up and down with a smirk of approval.

‘What business does a handsome, man like you have in a small town like this?’ Margaret asks flirtatiously.

‘Margaret!’ Harold shouts.

‘Oh, calm down dear, I'm just having a little fun.’

Even though I'm young enough to be her grandson I reach for her hand and place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

‘I'm very flattered you think me handsome, it’s a shame you are married Margaret for I'd scoop you up now and run far, far away with you.’

‘Oh, my!’ Margaret blushes.

‘Now listen here young man!’ Harold scolds.

‘Oh, be quiet Harold you're ruining the moment, and for you sir the Tavern is straight ahead and to the left.’

‘Thank you.’ I smile and nod, parting ways.

Inside the tavern, I order a pint and pay for a room for the night. I take my pint and find an empty seat in the corner near the fireplace. I’m going to have mind-link Alpha Damon later. I've been gone longer than expected. I’ll let him know what I know, so he can start prepping the warriors for war.

Maia

A few days have passed since my first visit to Wellmore, I have no food, which was to be expected. I’ll have to go to back to Wellmore today to get some food and hopefully see Vivian and her girls again. I reflect on the humans I saw in the forest, and that large gust of wind, I summoned, which almost blew them over. Focusing, I try to summon the force of energy again, but nothing happens. I complain to Ember.

‘I don't get it. I know I created that gust of wind. I felt the

energy around me, and in me. I felt it in my veins, flowing through me. I need to know what I'm capable of,’ I sulk. Ember inspects me on the ground, and nudges my hand. He stares intently at the palm of my hand like there’s something there. I look at my palms, and find myself focusing, my palms are growing warm. I remain still, and focusing on the warmth, a large flame suddenly appears in my hand.

I jump up, and in a panic, wave my hands up and down, through the air.

‘My hand! It's on fire! What do I do, Ember?’ I’m literally squawking and flapping about like a dazed baby bird.

Ember rolls onto his back and feigns sweetness, he isn’t worried at all. I soon realise the flame isn't burning me.

‘You knew I could do this, didn't you?’ I ask him.

Ember stands and nuzzles his face against my calve, like a cat. I close my hand and the flame disappears.

‘Ember, what am I? What else can I do?’ I ask him. He eyes me before running off through some trees.

‘Ember! Don't you run away from me, Mister! Get back here!’ I shout, as the energy fills my palms again, and a big gust of wind encircles me in a wave. I’m impressed, and stunned.

‘It’s working,’ I say happily to no one. I take a breath and gently blow towards a pebble.

A small gust blows the pebble across the ground.

I jump up and down in excitement.

A gentle breeze comes and goes, I smile, it’s time to go to Wellmore.