A few days passed in the blink of an eye for Noah, with no significant changes to his routine. Every morning, he would wake from a sinister nightmare, then head to the lodge for breakfast, where the wolves continued to make it abundantly clear that he was not welcome. The siblings were the only welcoming wave in the sea of hate, and really, Silas only humored his presence because of Luna. Luna was his little light in a cave of darkness. After breakfast, the siblings would either take him on tours of the territory or he would explore on his own. And when he said on his own, he meant with two giant wolves following his every move.
After breakfast one day, he returned to his cabin to inspect the herbs which had taught him the meaning of patience. They had been drying in the sun over the past few days, and luckily, the weather had held. Now, the herbs had lost all their moisture and were ready to grind and brew.
With wide eyes, he rushed inside the cabin, throwing open the cupboard doors with unnecessary force. He tossed the wooden cups and plates aside haphazardly, not pausing his search when a few cups fell onto the ground with a loud thump. A deep sigh escaped his lips when he could not find an iron pot to brew his tea.
Forced into returning to the lodge, he braced himself for the constant hate that he was forced to carry on his burdened shoulders. After his daily struggle of pushing the wooden door open, and upon entering the lodge, he encountered a suspicious scene. He had become accustomed to eating breakfast with the large gathering of wolves, and the near emptiness of the lodge felt disconcerting.
Looking toward the roots of the lodge, the blankets normally piled up there had been folded and placed to the side. A woman stood in front of a few dozen pups, some in animal form and some in human form, trying to maintain order. From so far away, he couldn’t hear the lecture, but it seemed to be some type of schooling taking place. Half of the pups paid no mind to the teacher, constantly nipping and growling at one another.
Human children were challenging enough, but throw in a few wolves play fighting, and the entire class became chaotic. The poor teacher looked like she was one howl away from having a nervous breakdown. One pup took the play fighting too far, biting another student who let out a high-pitched yelp. The unhinged teacher slammed her leather book shut and threw it against the wall with such force that it exploded. A gentle snowfall of paper scraps floated down to the floor, creating a fun game for the pups, who attempted to catch the scraps in their mouths before they could touch the ground.
Their fun ended as the teacher shifted into a giant gray wolf, pouncing on each of them until she pinned them beneath her weight. She snarled and snapped at them until they whimpered and attempted to lick her face in remorse. His chuckle at the mischievous pups died in his throat as the grey wolf’s head snapped around to stare at him with glowing yellow eyes.
He averted his gaze and hurried to attend his own business. Horrible memories of his own teachers at the orphanage flashed through his mind. One time, he had been so sure that one of his teachers was an unseelie hag that he had whacked her hand with an iron ruler, but the sizzling of her skin upon the iron’s touch never came. Shuddering at the punishments he had received, he hurried toward the kitchen, abandoning the young pups to their fate. One day, they would understand that he was powerless to come to their aid.
He tapped his cane on the ground as he approached the teenagers who served the lodge as kitchen aids. They scampered around in controlled chaos, never once looking up at his arrival. He could tell they took pride in their work as no adult wolf was there to supervise, and yet none were slacking off. They chopped, they butchered, they cleaned, and they stoked the roaring fires, all with meticulous precision. A thundering of pots and pans drowned out his approach and, for once, the wolves’ superior hearing did not prematurely announce his presence.
He cleared his throat as loud as he could, hoping to break their all-consuming focus. In a synchronicity that had Noah questioning if a puppeteer controlled these marionette workers, the chaos of the kitchen ground to a halt. A dozen teenaged wolves gawked at him, their kitchen duties abandoned at the arrival of the infamous human.
“I bid good day to the finest culinary artists the pack has ever seen,” he said, tipping his hat to them with a wink. A few of the wolves giggled and others puffed their chests out in pride at his compliments. He pondered the reaction of these younger wolves to his presence, which was so much more welcoming compared to their parents. It seemed that any hope of change between the races belonged to the younger generation.
One of the older teenage wolves stepped forward to address Noah while wiping his hands with a dish towel. “What can we do for you, human?”
Noah gave him a bright smile before looking behind the lad at the assortment of unused pots. “May I request a favor from the kitchen? I have been drying herbs recently that will be brewed into a tea of such quality that it may change the world as we know it.”
The tear he was trying to force wouldn’t come, so he settled on quivering his voice in heartbreak. “I seem to be at a loss though, as I can’t find a pot to boil water. Per…perhaps the kitchen has a spare that they wouldn’t miss?”
As the kitchen workers huddled around in hushed whispers, arguing over his request, the lack of an alpha among them became evident. What an inefficient way of making decisions.
“The Alpha has been eager to taste the tea of her mate’s homeland. Please, I can’t disappoint my mate again,” he added, covering his eyes with his hands to conceal his lack of tears. He didn’t know if it was his reference to the Alpha or a mate, but his pleas worked.
“We can spare a pot for the Alpha,” one worker said, raising no disagreement from his peers. Noah smiled as the young pup sorted through the mountain of pots, banging the metal together and avoiding the newer-looking pots with great care.
A thunderous crash sounded out as one of the panels to the lodge slammed open, gouging into the wall of the lodge and briefly sticking into the trunk. The kitchen hand jumped in shock at the noise, wide eyes darting to his coworkers who were already at their stations as if they had never left. Noah hadn’t noticed the deep gouge in the wall before now, but the scar was impossible to miss now that he had seen it. What wolf had the strength to throw open the swinging door with such force?
“What is all of that racket? You brats should be butchering the meat, not cooking,” the grey-haired wolf said, walking through the doorway with her cane tapping against the floor.
In some kind of bizarre kitchen salute, the teenagers jumped to attention with one arm over their chest. “Yes, Elder! The human asked for a spare pot to brew his tea in. We were just fulfilling the Alpha’s request!”
The wizened woman snapped her head toward Noah, narrowing her eyes at his surprise appearance in her kitchen. She leaned heavily on her cane, and it appeared to be the only thing that kept her standing.
“Oh, was he now? How curious? I’ve never known the Alpha to be a connoisseur of tea.”
Noah beamed at the old woman, but he could already feel sweat collecting on his lower back. How could an old woman who needed her cane to assist her movements throw open the monstrous weight of the door with such ease?
“That she isn’t, Elder. I was just telling the kitchen pups that Sylvie was eager to taste a bit of her mate’s homeland.”
The grey-haired wolf stared him down for a few uncomfortable moments, her one functioning grey eye searching his green ones. Under her scrutinizing gaze, he felt vulnerable as if she could decipher his thoughts and intentions with a single glance.
“Retrieve your herbs and bring them back to the lodge. We will brew your homeland’s tea and see if it is worthy to serve to the Alpha.”
With a nod, he rushed out of the lodge and returned to his cabin in a sprint, retrieving the dried stalks of herbs in record time. Upon his return to the lodge, he struggled to open the wooden door once again and cursed the ancient wolf who could throw it open with such force. The woman hadn’t moved since he left, and he rushed up to her with the utmost speed, presenting the herbs for her inspection. He waited a few moments for her to examine the herbs, but she never even glanced down at them.
“Don’t just stand there, you nitwit. Grind them up and brew a pot,” she barked at him like he was daft. Opposite his normal defiant attitude, his body rushed to obey her commands, and looking at the tense kitchen aids who kept their heads down, he wasn’t the only one who experienced the phenomenon.
Once he reached the kitchen, he used the bottom of two pots to grind the herbs into a coarse powder. Next, he filled one pot with water and set it on the metal grates over the fire. As he waited for the water to boil, he dared a glance at the ancient wolf. She scrutinized his every move, nothing escaping her eye.
After a few minutes, he took the boiling water off of the grate and added a serving of the herbs to the hot water, letting them stew. A short while later, he strained the herbs with a fine mesh cloth and poured two cups of the liquid into wooden mugs. He approached the ancient wolf, who had never taken her one eye off of Noah the entire time and placed a cup in front of her. Steam rose from the hot tea in a rolling fog, bringing with it an intoxicating fragrance.
“Please tell me what you think, honored Elder,” he said, gesturing toward the cup.
The old wolf sniffed at the tea for a few moments before tilting her head back and opening her mouth wide.
Eyes widening, Noah rushed to stop her with an outstretched hand. “Wait Elder, it’s hot…”
The Elder paid no heed to his warning, gulping the tea down in one go. He was dumbfounded as she smacked her lips with steam escaping her mouth in between each smack.
“Hmm. Not bad human. Not bad at all.”
“I’m glad it passed your inspection, Elder. Forgive me, but I don’t think I ever caught your name?”
Her eye snapped up from her cup to meet his, narrowing in suspicion. “That’s because I didn’t give it, young human.”
“But we have bonded over a cup of tea, and that’s the oldest symbol of friendship in the world.”
Steam blew out of her nostrils as she snorted. “Ensuring that the Alpha’s tea remains free of poison is a symbol of friendship among humans?”
Noah’s hand flew to his chest in scandalous affront. “Poison? You think me capable of harming my own mate?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The wise wolf searched his eyes, inspecting his mind and soul for hidden intentions. “I do not know, human. As I said, the safety of the pack comes before tolerance and acceptance. However, I will afford you what little benefit of the doubt I can spare.”
She leaned in closer to him, sniffing in his direction for a few moments, before cocking her head in confusion. “Something is off with you, human…,” she said, trailing off as if searching her memories for anything that could confirm the warning her nose impressed upon her.
“I’d wash, but the musk drives Sylvie crazy. You can’t expect me to relinquish the one weapon I have that can control my mate?” he said, raising his hands in helplessness.
A giggle from the kitchen snapped the Elder out of her introspection. Leaning heavily on her cane, she stood up and threw her mug at the perpetrator. The cup flew toward the kitchen aids faster than a cross bolt, whooshing through the air in a blur of speed. One worker reached their hand up to catch the mug, snagging it from midair without looking up from their tasks.
“What are you lot eavesdropping on? We have dinner to prepare for an entire pack of hungry wolves. Get back to work!” The Elder stood up from the table, shooing her hands at Noah in dismal. She limped behind him toward the kitchen but paused after a few steps and whacked her cane against the floor, adding to the numerous scars already carved into the trunk.
“My name is Calla, young human,” she said like she was granting him a great boon by bestowing her name.
Noah held his hands tightly over his mouth, trying his best to control himself, but a snort squeaked its way through. In a flash, Calla whirled to glare at him, her chest emitting a deep growl.
“What is so humorous, human?” she demanded, her cane digging into the wood of the floor.
Perhaps the wood splintering beneath her cane aided him, but he regained control over his emotions with tremendous effort. “It is nothing, Elder. The name Calla must have a different meaning in human culture.”
“Oh, I see. It might be a derogatory name in the human lands, but in pack culture, it means beautiful,” Calla said, baffling pride filled her voice and undeserved vanity puffed her chest.
He had been nodding along to her explanation until she came to the word beautiful. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he gazed up and down her form. He knew he wasn’t being fair. She very well could have been beautiful when she was younger, but Calla was just one of those names you expected a world-shaking beauty to possess.
“It’s the same,” he whispered without thinking.
Calla’s body shimmered, and he swore he could see her nails elongate. “Does my name not suit me, boy? Do you think my beauty taints the name?”
A shiver ran through him that left him scrambling for an escape route. He nonchalantly rose to his feet, walking past Calla to retrieve the iron pot from the kitchen. A loud crack rang out as she gripped her cane with so much force that it shattered, sending shards of wood flying through the air.
With his back to the angry wolf, he met the eyes of the kitchen aids. Their gazes pleaded with him, begging him to save them from their employer’s wrath. An unspoken bond that would persist through the ages formed in an instant. His heroism moistened the teenagers’ eyes with tears as he took a deep breath before turning around to meet his reckoning. A shimmering Calla filled his gaze, flickering between wolf and human.
“Honored Elder, I think your name is a personification of everything you are. I was not laughing, but gasping in shock because your kitchen aids told me that your name didn’t suit you.”
Calla’s form solidified and she snapped toward the shocked kitchen aids in fury. He hardened his heart to the looks of betrayal they shot his way, dashing out of the lodge and securing his escape. As screams of reprimand shook the lodge, a solitary tear fell from his eye in recognition of the young pups’ sacrifice. Sprinting full speed away from the lodge, he promised himself that he would never forget their selflessness.
Over the next two weeks, Noah kept to his routine with obsessive fervor. Breakfast at the lodge, followed by bringing steaming mugs of tea to the traders in the open-air market. He would then head to the territory entrance to give the two guards a warm cup of tea as well.
Although the wolves weren’t susceptible to the autumn chill like he was, they still enjoyed a hot beverage that contained a more exotic taste than their usual tea. However, his beverage delivery system didn’t have the intended effect of buying the wolves’ affection. Most of the pack still distrusted him at best and hated him at worst. The only exceptions seemed to be the siblings who followed him around religiously and Wren. Although, Wren was more of a “friendly when they happened to meet” kind of person, never seeking his company out on her own.
On one monotonous day, he and the siblings approached the border entrance to deliver the guard’s daily cup of tea. Luna kept glancing at the steaming mugs out of the corner of her eyes, forcing him to turn his body to hide them from her sight. He had been forced to limit Luna to one cup per day, as she seemed to enjoy the tea even more than he did. A caffeine-fueled Luna was a force that not even the gods could control, and her intervention had caused a tantrum that would scar his psyche for the rest of his life.
As they neared the border, voices drifted through the trees, just loud enough for him to hear. Raising his fist, he stopped the siblings and strained his ears to spy on the unsuspecting speakers.
“Alpha, we have been routinely sending out scouting patrols to search for the Unseelie, but we have found no sign of them.” A surprising pang of jealousy rushed through him at the sound of Alder’s voice.
“How is that possible, Alder? Unless we find their portal, the pack will never be safe from this threat. We must find them!” Sylvie’s harsh command rang out, startling a few sleeping birds into flight.
“Alpha…,” Alder responded, his unease with her commands hard to mistake. “The scouts are running on fumes. How much longer will we overextend ourselves like this? If an attack occurs, we will not have the strength to defend against an invasion.”
Images of Sylvie punching and biting subordinate wolves who had disobeyed her commands flittered through his mind. “Come on, Sylvie,” he whispered, twirling his cane with nervous energy as a long pause halted the conversation.
“Alder, I recognize the strain this is putting on the scouting wolves. I do not order them into enemy territory lightly, but we need intelligence on what we are up against. Our survival depends on it.” Sylvie’s calm and measured voice allowed Noah to release a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding.
“Rowan, you were in charge of intelligence gathering for decades under my father. What suggestions do you have for our struggles?”
Surprise laced Rowan’s answer. “Alpha, I suggest we alternate our scouts with warriors or even guards to ease the burden. We can place them on a strict see-and-report basis. No special training is required if they don’t need to investigate enemy territories.”
“Thank you, Rowan. Hmm. Alder, use the off-duty warrior wolves to supplement our scouts. I don’t want our guard’s numbers and efficiency to be affected.”
“Right away, Alpha.” Noah could hear the excitement in Alder’s voice.
“That’s my mate,” he whispered with a smile.
The next couple of days were the same as before, and he was getting more antsy as time went on. Not only was his claustrophobia steadily rising to unbearable levels, but he hadn’t been in danger since he arrived at the Baleful Fiend Pack. If he wasn’t excited at the thrill of risking his life, then he felt nothing. The emptiness inside of him grew so loud that nothing he did could drown out its mocking cackles. It was unsustainable.
He lay on the wooden floor, using his cowboy hat as a pillow. Sleep eluded him more often lately, and it was beginning to take a toll on him. A few more months stuck in the pack’s territory was nothing, but his dreams had become increasingly more disturbing. Could he even make it two months without the dam bursting? Pondering that question and not liking the answer he found, he tossed and turned until sleep finally claimed its unwilling participant.
Noah tried to peer through the thick fog rolling between the trees. It was dead silent as if the supernatural fog forcefully dissipated the noises of the forest. A small, child-sized silhouette glided amongst the trees, never quite coming into focus.
“Hey!” he called out to it in desperation. “Please talk to me!” The silhouette disappeared from view, once again lost to the fog.
“He can’t hear you, Negative 2.” Noah whipped around as the voice had come from disturbingly close behind him. A few feet away stood 125. His hands were in the waistband of his burlap trousers as if to keep the chill off of them. His dark brown skin was ashen, but from the caves or death, Noah didn’t know.
Noah closed his eyes and clasped his hands over his ears. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Please, let me find my own peace now!”
“I can’t do that, Negative 2,” 125 whispered. Noah dropped his hands as they provided no protection from the sound. He creaked his eyelids open to see 125 staring at him sadly. Tears of blood rolled down his face and his eyes glowed a subtle red.
“Why?” Noah whispered so softly that he wasn’t sure 125 would hear his question, but his friend answered right away.
“Because Negative 2, I wasn’t fated to die that day. You stole my destiny from me. And what have you done with it? I was meant to lead humanity in the eradication of the supernatural races.” 125’s tears of blood disappeared as if his crying had been an illusion all along. His red eyes glowed brighter in the smothering darkness of the forest, causing Noah to take a step backward.
“But you, Negative 2! You lead no one because you have no one! You can’t become a conqueror for humanity because you’ve taken to bed with the enemy! You have betrayed everything that we once stood for!” 125’s yells shook the trees and even blew the fog out of the forest. Spittle flew from his mouth, hitting Noah in the face. Fangs replaced his crooked teeth, his canines glinting sharply in the red glow of his eyes.
“Please, I—” Noah attempted to respond, tears rolling freely down his face.
125 cut him off with a yell that burst his ear drums. “What did I die for, Negative 2! What did I die for? What did I die for? Who did I die for?”
125’s body began to rot at a visible rate, experiencing decades of decomposition at an unnatural pace. He continued to ask his damming questions until his body was gone and only his haunting voice remained, reverberating in Noah’s head.
“I don’t know…”
After being ejected from the world of dreams, Noah awoke amid a bloodcurdling scream. Sylvie had joined him on the floor and was in the process of frantically shaking his shoulders. She had a crazed look in her eyes and was as pale as he had ever seen her.
“Noah, please wake up. Please. Please,” Sylvie repeated again and again.
He cut off his yelling, leaving a raw throat behind and tears staining his cheeks. With sweat dampening his body, he brushed aside the bangs sticking to his forehead and obstructing his vision. He reached out to Sylvie with a shaking hand and pushed her raven hair behind her ear, revealing a clear view of her glowing silver eyes.
“It’s okay, Sylvie. I’m awake now, and I’m fine,” he said, allowing the silver of her eyes to guide him back to sanity.
Sylvie’s head snapped up, and once she saw clarity in his eyes instead of madness, she threw herself into his arms. He patted her back in a soothing cadence as he let her enjoy the relief she found in his arms. Eventually, she pulled away from him and jumped to her feet more graciously than any human ever could.
“You’re fine? You’re fine?” she yelled.
Noah winced at her tone and stood up to join her. Shame filled him. How could he allow his mate to see his deficiencies like this?
“You were screaming as if your soul was being eaten one bite at a time. I thought an unknown unseelie had attacked you in the dream world.” She slammed her fist onto the wooden table and another large crack splintered across its surface.
“It was just a nightmare, Sylvie. I was in no danger, and there’s nothing to worry about,” he said, trying to calm her down.
“A nightmare about what?” she questioned as her bottom lip trembled.
“I sometimes have intense nightmares, but I can never remember them,” he said, lying to his mate without hesitation.
She wasn’t buying it. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot in a sporadic rhythm. “You don’t remember nightmares that torture you to the brink of insanity?”
“Sylvie, there are no ill effects from them other than disrupted sleep. This isn’t something you have to worry about.”
The rhythmic taps of her foot slowed and she narrowed her eyes. “Nightmares are conjured by the mind, Noah, and the mind is always awake. You have a poison in your head that is slowly decaying your sanity, one nightmare at a time. Do not take the unseen wounds of the mind lightly; they are the hardest to treat.”
Closing the distance between them at a slow pace, he grabbed her shoulders and stared straight into her silver eyes. “I do not take it lightly, Sylvie. I promise I will do what is necessary to cure them.”
“Promise?” She searched his eyes for the truth.
“I promise. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, I will fix this.” He pulled her into a light hug with his chin resting on her shoulder. Unseen by Sylvie, his eyes narrowed with determination.