Rage burned in Noah, the flickering flames consuming his body and soul. His fury clouded his thoughts, blinded his eyes to logic, and deafened his ears to truth. Distracted by his anger, he stomped to the lodge, trampling innocent flowers who dared to cross his path and whacking the enchanted trees with his cane.
How dare she mark him as a possession? The tattoos on his neck hissed and throbbed at the injustice, livid that they could not hide his childhood trauma any longer. Who was this strange woman to rob them of their purpose in life?
He inspected the bright red mark on his hand, a beacon to all that he was no longer a free man. The hideous mark contorted as he clenched his fists until the bite was unrecognizable, morphing into a misshapen mass of scars.
He remembered Keziah’s mating mark, but she hadn’t mentioned it was magical in nature. She didn’t think to warn him that the bite would heal in a matter of seconds? After everything he had sacrificed to earn his freedom, Sylvie had marred his skin, wrapping a chain around his hands once more.
Upon reaching the meadow, the purple flowers scrambled out of his way, terrified of his wrath. He slammed the swinging door open, adrenaline fueling his strength and granting him a power that had eluded his previous attempts.
Again, silence greeted him as all the pack mates stared at his entrance. He was in no mood for their games and prepared to return their hateful glares in kind, refusing to keep the status quo any longer. Instead, for the first time, he found no hostility in their eyes, only begrudging respect. A few even gave him a slight nod with excitement gleaming in their eyes. Baffled by the unfamiliar greeting, he returned their nods, pretending that he was privy to whatever force had improved their impression of him.
After loading his tray with succulent meats, sweet fruits, and fresh vegetables, he scanned the long tables, eagerly searching for Luna and Silas. It had only been a week, but their continued absence ate at him. He hadn’t realized how much their shenanigans brightened his day until it was taken away from him, leaving him to stumble about in the darkness. Disappointment filled him as he failed to locate them. Who else would extend a friendly hand for him to latch onto?
“Vampire slayer, join our table and share a meal with us.”
Startled out of his moping, he was shocked to see Rowan beckoning him toward the warriors’ table. The First Beta even had a beaming smile on his face, but instead of comforting Noah, it caused him to shiver in unease. The foreign smile on Rowan’s face seemed more out of place than a tap-dancing Sluagh.
Invisible walls sprang up around Noah, attempting to isolate him from non-existent danger. At risk of falling into old habits, he hesitated at the invitation. How many hands had he refused to grasp, leaving them dangling in the air until the offer was revoked? If he wanted to shake a friendly or loving hand, perhaps he needed to accept it also had the potential to strangle and bind him. Could he take such a risk?
The muscles in his legs bulged as he strained with all of his might to take that first step, but his past immobilized him, refusing to let him move forward. A firm hand pushed him toward Rowan’s table, breaking the spell that had ensnared him for over a decade. Stumbling forward, he glanced back to see Calla’s outstretched arm slowly lowering to her side.
“You have been blocking the buffet table for long enough. Move along now,” she said, a wisdom that only came with age radiated out of her one functioning eye.
He nodded at her, and after taking a deep breath, proceeded toward the unfamiliar. Once he reached the table, he plopped his tray down, unsure if he possessed the social skills to achieve his newfound goals.
As the tray hit the table with a bang, the bubble surrounding him popped, allowing cheerful conversations to reach his ears. Shocked at the sounds he was just beginning to hear, he glanced at the long tables full of pack mates. None were looking at him. They minded their own affairs, causing Noah to wonder if the constant glares and stares he had experienced were creations of his own mind.
He turned his attention to the warrior wolves at his table, and although he found little friendliness, he couldn’t find outright hostility either. “Thank you for the invitation, Rowan. I must say, I’m surprised the warriors at this table would allow me to join them.”
Rowan barked out a deep booming laugh that rattled the cutlery on the table. “Allow you to join the table? I did not realize that we had barred you from sitting with us; that seems to have been your own doing.”
Rowan’s eyes lit up and his voice rose in excitement. “But now that you have killed a master vampire in one-on-one combat, we must celebrate your achievement.”
The wolves sitting around the table leaned their heads back and howled, announcing the glory of his kill to the lodge. All except for Alder, whose narrowed eyes stared intently at the bite mark on Noah’s hand. Eyes widening in realization, Alder pointed a shaking finger at Noah, his face flushing in anger. “How dare you accept her mark, human?”
His bellowing shouts captured the table’s attention, directing their gazes to the bite mark on Noah’s hand. In a blur that he couldn’t dodge, Rowan grabbed his hand, examining the bright red scars with a trace of his finger.
“That’s quite the mating mark you have, lad. We all assumed that you were hiding it underneath that trench coat of yours.” He allowed Noah’s hand to drop to the table and chuckled with a sly look in his eyes. “I’ve never known a female wolf to wait this long to mark their mate. What courage you must have to play hard-to-get with the Alpha?”
“The ultimate prize requires the ultimate struggle,” Noah said, raising his arms in helplessness.
Thundering laughs rang out along the table with some wolves even wiping tears from their eyes. The hysterical laughs were on the verge of becoming insulting when Alder slammed his fist onto the table, dousing the festive atmosphere.
“He’s not her true mate!” His eyes promised death should Noah ever present him with the opportunity.
Rowan’s arm blurred toward his son, slapping him on the cheek with such power that the shockwave blew Noah’s bangs from his forehead. Alder’s head snapped to the side, a loud crack ringing throughout the lodge.
“How dare you question a mating mark in my presence? Has my son truly fallen to such depravity?” Rowan asked, gingerly rubbing a spot on his thigh. Devastating pain appeared on his face, his clouded eyes seeing sorrowful memories.
The heartbreak on Rowan’s face prompted Noah to examine the mark on his hand. With his fingertip, he traced Sylvie’s imprint, a part of her that would remain with him for eternity. Keziah had told him ‘the mating mark is revered above all’ and judging by the shared disgust at Alder’s words, she was not the only one who felt so.
Alder growled at his father, rubbing at the redness already forming on his cheek. “Fine! I admit, it was impressive how you killed that master vampire. However…” Wildness grew in Alder’s eyes as he gazed straight through Noah. “I will never recognize your status as First Mate. Your coupling is the byproduct of an unholy curse. Nothing more.”
Rowan sighed, placing a massive hand on Alder’s shoulder. “Son, I think it’s time you sought happiness elsewhere.”
Alder threw his father’s hand off his shoulder, causing the giant man to flinch at his son’s deranged fury. Flinging his chair across the floor, Alder bolted up from the table, his form flickering as his emotions ran beyond his control. “I will seek happiness from where nature intended.”
Concern etched upon his face, Rowan watched as his son slammed open the swinging door and departed from the lodge.
A somber silence seized the table. After a few moments, some of the younger wolves nodded to one another before following Alder’s example, storming out of the lodge. Uncomfortable with the solemn atmosphere, Noah took it upon himself to steer the conversation toward more pleasant topics.
“So, which of you were rooting for the vampire? With the reception I’ve received so far from the pack, I can’t imagine it was only a few of you.”
Rowan spat to the side of the table, freezing when a throat cleared from the kitchen. Noah glanced over his shoulder to see Calla staring down the First Beta and causing the massive wolf to avert his eyes in submission. Bulging muscles and all, the second-in-command wolf bent down to wipe the floor.
He cleared his throat in embarrassment at Noah’s questioning look. “You have to understand, lad. First Mate is an extremely important position in a wolf pack. It directly contributes to the Alpha’s power, which directly contributes to the power of the pack.”
Noah nodded his head at the logic. No one wanted a weak link at the top of their power structure.
“The Alpha mating with a human directly weakened the pack…or so we thought. You have proved yourself to be a boon instead of a hindrance.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed and his body shimmered with an impending shift before he could regain control of his emotions. “Don’t for one second think that we would ever cheer for a vampire. They are our oldest enemies, and countless wolves have lost their lives in the eternal war.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The rest of the wolves growled, building themselves into a frenzy just at the mention of the vampires. Caught up in their bloodlust, the madness of revenge clawed its way into Noah’s voice.
“Before my time has ended, the vampires will feel the wrath of humanity. I will make their kind experience the fear and hopelessness they so lovingly bask in.”
The wolves pounded their cups on the table and let out piercing howls, creating a thundering roar that shook the lodge.
“Rowan, don’t make me come over there! You might be all big and strong now, but you are nowhere near ready to test me, young pup,” Calla threatened while waving a ladle in their direction.
Silence washed over the table as the top warriors of the Baleful Fiend Pack cut off their howls in choking coughs.
“I didn’t think I’d see the day that you would be chastised like this, Rowan. You don’t even cower before Sylvie,” Noah said, chuckling at the wolves who refused to raise their downcast eyes from their plates.
Rowan put a finger over his lips, shushing Noah while glancing nervously in Calla’s direction. He beckoned Noah closer, their noses almost touching before he felt comfortable enough to speak.
“Calla isn’t some normal elder. She is the former First Mate and the current Guardian!”
Noah’s eyes bulged. “Don’t tell me that’s Sylvie’s mother?”
Oh shit. He had called his mate’s mother ugly. To her face! If Sylvie found out, he was a dead man. Rowan shook his head frantically and shushed him once more.
“No, no. She wasn’t Ajax’s mate. She was the mate of the previous Alpha,” he whispered so softly that Noah could barely hear him.
“Ajax challenged Calla’s mate for the right to rule and ended up killing him. There was a lot of discussion about whether Calla should be exiled, but in the end, the pack pressured Ajax into letting her stay. In those early days of his rule, he had not yet solidified his power and couldn’t ignore the combined pressure of the entire pack.”
“But why would Calla want to stay in the same pack as the wolf who killed her mate?” Noah asked.
“Tough old bird that one. The rumor is that she was fiercer than even her mate, but she preferred to be a guardian of last resort. She loves the pack and will do anything to protect it; even look her mate’s murderer in the eyes day after day.”
Noah glanced at Calla, tipping his hat to her in respect. She scowled at him, her arm whipping in his direction. Trailing through the air in a blur, the bread roll hit him square in the face, snapping his head back. Nose bleeding and eyes tearing, he glared at Calla full of grievance.
“And what are you looking at, human? Do you wish to challenge me, too?”
He hastily averted his eyes and noticed Rowan staring down at his plate, whistling in mock naivety. If Rowan feared the Guardian Calla, then he would avoid her at all costs.
After breakfast, he returned to the cabin, unsure if he hoped or dreaded that Sylvie would be there. Not knowing what he was going to say, he threw open the door, only to be met by an empty cabin.
With a deep sigh of relief, he walked to the wardrobe and gathered supplies for his upcoming groveling. Prepared for the battle ahead, he headed toward the door, his trench coat bulging from the additional weight of his apology gifts. Just before he flung open the door, he froze, a metallic gleam catching his attention. He stared deeply at the object before grabbing it and placing it beneath his arm.
***
Only a few customers browsed the open-air market, inspecting the wares painstakingly displayed on the woolen blankets. With tunnel vision, he ignored the oddities and marvels for sale and headed straight for Isla and Keziah’s stall.
As he approached their blankets, he noticed they were once again holding hands, and once again, they seemed to be in the middle of an argument. Not sure how wise it was to intrude on the argument between mates, he hesitated until Isla’s head snapped toward him, as if she had caught his scent.
“Noah, you have arrived at an opportune moment,” Isla said, her eyes lighting up as if her savior had finally arrived. “We need an impartial bystander to settle a debate.”
He ignored her arm, beckoning him forward, and wondered if there was a less dangerous task he could be accomplishing. Fighting a vampire, perhaps?
Keziah scowled at him from beside her mate, and with a shaky grin and stiff limbs, he closed the distance to what well might be his doom. With hesitant steps, he approached the mates, freezing in his tracks when he spied a freshly inked tattoo on Keziah’s neck.
Keziah’s scowl deepened into a snarl when she noticed him staring at her neck. An island with palm trees dotting the land made up the bulk of the tattoo and little lines representing the waves of the sea crashed into its shore.
An Island? Isla? His wide eyes turned to Isla, who gazed at her handiwork with a smug smile on her face. He whistled in amazement. Keziah had been soundly defeated by a challenger half her size.
“I bid good morning to my two favorite traders, whose wares have shaken the world with their innovative and impeccable craftsmanship,” he said, tipping his hat to the mates. A shimmer caught his eye, and he sidestepped toward Isla, not knowing how much more Keziah could bear before she shifted.
“I’d like to thank you, Noah. Your words allowed us to rectify an oversight that we have since corrected,” Isla said with a smile, brushing her fingertips across the tattoo on Keziah’s neck.
Please stop, Isla. This crazy woman was going to get him killed. He dared a glance at Keziah, whose incorporeal image flickered between wolf and human.
“Did I say something the last time we met? I fear you have mistaken me for someone else,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow that should not have existed in the brisk autumn morning.
“Yes, it is difficult to remember which unfortunate soul pointed out our mistake. I would hate to eviscerate the wrong human, but you can never have complete confidence in things of this nature,” Keziah said, the look in her eyes promising such pain and torture that he almost bolted from the marketplace.
“I guess we may never know who inspired such beautiful art,” he said with a nod, regaining his composure and relying on his number one rule when caught in the act. Deny. Deny anything and everything.
“Regardless, I am not here for pleasantries,” he said, solemnness filling his voice. As he stared at the mates’ clasped hands, he wondered if he was making a monumental mistake that he would come to regret.
Keziah’s anger disappeared and Isla wiped the smug smirk from her face, the tone of his voice forcing them to disregard flippant matters. He studied the pair for a few moments, and with a nod, allowed them to decide their own futures. He met Isla’s eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation of his news.
“My business today is with Keziah,” he said in a firm voice, dropping an obvious hint for Isla.
Isla’s eyes narrowed, and he could see the anger rising in her, just waiting to explode. Keziah squeezed her hand, her eyes never leaving Noah’s. “Isla, please give Noah and me a few moments alone.”
Isla whirled around to face her mate, whipping her long, black hair through the air. “Don’t you dare, Keziah.” She returned her glare to Noah, making him squirm beneath her fury. “Keziah is my business. Whatever you need to tell her, you can say in front of us both.”
Noah remained silent, holding Keziah’s gaze, imploring her to understand. Discerning something from his gaze, Keziah nodded.
“Isla, there are some things that we must face on our own,” she said, flashing a loving smile toward Isla and placing a gentle palm on her cheek. “Please trust me, my love.”
Tears formed in Isla’s eyes, but she nodded to Keziah with a shaky smile. “I trust you with everything,” Isla said, unclasping their hands in a grimace, as if the separation caused her physical pain.
Her gaze snapped toward Noah, all signs of a smile erased from her face. “It’s him I don’t trust. His honeyed words could convince a Fachan to wear a dress.”
Noah’s hand flew to his chest. “That is insulting, madam. How would the Fachan see if we covered its eye with a dress? Not even I would purposefully blind someone.”
Isla scoffed, his words not reassuring her one bit; in fact, they seemed to have confirmed her fears.
“Fine, I will give you two privacy,” she stormed off, cursing under her breath. She paused just as she passed Noah. “Have you discovered the value you promised to search for?” she asked with a knowing smile.
“I am about to,” he replied.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. Reaching into a bag strapped to her belt, she pulled out a jar—a jar glowing fluorescent blue.
“You already have, but you remain too blind to see it. Always taking things for granted, it’s amazing how much we overlook. After all, why should we question the things that benefits us?”
His hand flew to the scar on his chest, rubbing the healed wound which had begun to ache at the appearance of the poultice that had defeated it.
Dissecting his reaction, Isla nodded. “The infamous human would have met his end if the glowing medicine of the Fae had not enraptured me. The simple and fleeting desire to create glowing tattoos saved your life, Noah.”
How many coincidences had needed to occur for him to survive that night? It seemed every part of his past affected his future, whether or not he could see the threads entwining them.
“Thank you for saving my life, Isla,” he said, removing his hat and performing a deep bow.
“Thank the marvelous furniture I stole from Keziah. She wouldn’t talk to me for a week after I traded her creations to the Fae for a few jars of useless medicine,” Isla said, backing away with a smug smile. A short salute later, and she was gone.
He rubbed his chest with a smile until a cough snapped him back to the present. Dropping the smile from his face, he inspected the purpose of his visit. Keziah stood with her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. A few inches taller than Noah, she stared down at him, impressive muscles flexing in her arms.
“Tell me, Keziah, what would you risk in order to achieve your dream?” He studied her, searching for any indecision on her face. If he found any, he would leave the market without a word, never divulging the purpose of his visit.
The yearning in her eyes reflected a lifetime of failure; always chasing, but never obtaining. “Everything!”
Smiling, he nodded his head at her determination. “The only dreams worth having are those we would risk everything for.”
He reached inside his trench coat, pulling out a few loose papers bound together with twine.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the skill to build these, but I believe you do, Keziah,” he said, handing the drawings over to Keziah, whose eyes poured over the paper. Once she realized what she was reading, she gasped, eyes snapping up to Noah.
When he saw the excitement in her gaze, he pulled out the iron pot from beneath his arm. A pot he had once filled with poison, betraying those who trusted him most. He rapped his knuckles against it, causing a metallic gong to ring out.
“This will get you started,” he said, presenting the pot to Keziah, who received it with great care, eyes darting from the drawings to the pot in rapid motions.
Without another word, he turned around, strolling away from the mates’ stall.
“I will not fail, Noah!” Keziah yelled from behind him. He didn’t turn but waved his cane in acknowledgment.
“Oh, and Keziah…,” he called out over his shoulder, pausing his steps. She pulled her nose out of the papers, giving him her full attention.
“I love your tattoo!”
He took off in a sprint as a roar rang across the marketplace, and the ground shook from a massive weight hitting the ground.