by Bianca Mckay
Aribelle almost smiled, but instead, she narrowed her eyes at the two men. Both of them were incredibly handsome, though one named Dru was far less rugged looking. Thame had long brown hair that hung past his shoulders, thick brows, hazel eyes, square jaw covered in stubble , and full lips; his body was muscular and toned, and he stood nearly a foot taller than her frame. Dru had shorter dark blonde hair that hung over his green eyes, a pointed nose, and high cheekbones; he stood the same height as she did, with a lean build that suggested he would rather sit in comfort than work a hard, laborious day.
"And what might you two be doing here, in the woods in the middle of the night?" Aribelle asked harshly.
The brothers stared at her with raised brows, sensing the fury that simmered beneath her tone. Aribelle took several deep breaths, easing her tensed muscles. She had not noticed how close she was to pouncing on the two men and tearing them apart, but it would do no good to kill them before she discovered why they were here.
"Our shipwrecked off the coast. We had to scale the cliffs to reach dry land, and we found ourselves here, surrounded by wolves," Thame said.
Something about his voice caressed her skin like the finest silk. Shockingly, as he spoke, she found it much easier to calm herself. Though the urge to rip out his throat was still there, she no longer found it overwhelming and pushed it down with ease.
"Hmm," She hummed, removing the hood of her cloak as she began to circle the brothers.
She did not believe Thame's excuse for why they were here, truthful it may be, but her instincts told her it was not the entire truth. They were hiding something. Normally, she would just beat the liars until their words turned to complete honesty, and they showed their submission. However, there was something about this situation that she found rather amusing, instead of infuriating. It was almost as though Thame thought himself capable of protecting himself and his brother, judging by the subtle way he leaned to the side like he was prepared for her to attack, and he was ready to push Dru out of harm's way. It was as sweet as it was ridiculous.
"I'd like to know the truth of why you are really here in Jurot," Aribelle said, keeping the bite from her tone.
She circled around them once more, then stopped in front of them with a raised brow, waiting for their explanation. It was too much of a coincidence for them to be there. Jurot hadn't had any intruders in years, yet here these two were just a fortnight after Agatha's departure from the forest.
Thame's mouth dropped open with an audible popping sound, his eyes searing through her, looking dazed. Aribelle looked down at herself, wondering if she was covered in dirt or if one of her breasts spilled over the top of her corset. Confused, she looked back at the tall, rugged man with a curious expression, only to see him leering at her with a smoldering gaze.
"You are exquisite, darling," Thame said huskily. "I've prayed to the gods, asking them to send me the perfect woman. At last, they have answered."
"Funny," Aribelle replied, matching his tone. "I asked for fresh meat, and they sent me you."
Aribelle stalked to Thame, inhaling his intoxicating scent as she rubbed her nose against his neck. He smelled of the forest during a storm with a hint of mint, and with each inhale, Aribelle came dangerously close to losing herself in his scent. Until his hands squeezed her rear and ground her front against his own. Snapping out of her haze, Aribelle licked along Thame's neck, letting her fangs descend, then bit down until the metallic taste of blood gushed over her tongue. Swallowing down the liquid that tasted much like her favorite holiday spices, Aribelle stepped back and glared at a dumbstruck Thame.
"What did you do that for?" Dru asked shrilly.
"Because his hands needed to apply pressure to something other than my ass. Now he needs to see the healer, and if he wants to stay alive until then, he better keep his hands on his neck," Aribelle said with a careless shrug.
"You touched him first!" Dru shouted incredulously, looking rather pale.
"Learn quickly, intruder. I am the one who decides everything here. This is my kingdom. Your brother is lucky to still be alive, as are you. I don't care if I reach out and grab his ass, he doesn't grab mine without me saying he can. Understand?" Aribelle snapped.
"Okay, alright. Can you turn back into a wolf and give us a ride to the healer?" Dru asked, his breaths coming quickly.
Aribelle froze, indignation rising.
"Excuse me?" She asked in a deadly whisper.
"Please. I'm sorry. May you please give us a ride?" Dru said, stumbling forward, looking contrite.
"Do I look like a damn horse and carriage?" Aribelle snarled, advancing on Dru. "Perhaps I should just toss you back over whichever cliff you climbed."
"No, no, no. I apologize. That was obviously rude of me. Could you please direct us towards the healer?" Dru said in a trembling voice that reminded Aribelle of the piercing scream she heard come from him earlier.
"Yes," Aribelle snapped. "But one more insult, and I eat you both for dinner."
Aribelle snapped her fangs in Dru's face as a warning and turned her back on the brothers. Walking further into the woods, she called to them over her shoulder.
"Hurry along before he bleeds out. Or you can continue to snivel like a little girl and let him die. Either way is fine with me; I am rather hungry."
Aribelle chuckled cruelly as she heard the frantic shuffling of feet, the brothers stomping through the woods to keep up with her. With swift, sure steps, Aribelle navigated the woods, her nighttime vision impeccably clear. Though she did make sure to barely skirt by trees and not warn the brothers of any fallen logs or puddles of mud, which made for an amusing journey to the healer's hut. After fifteen minutes of the brothers cussing and shouting as they fell, walked into trees, and got scraped by low hanging branches, the healer's hut was now visible.
The healer's hut was a large structure built like a log cabin. Thick logs of cedar stacked twelve-feet high, wooden shutters that allowed for a constant flow of fresh air no matter the season, and a roof made from the fronds of Nasekian palms. The hut was dimly lit, candlelight flickering from behind the closed shutters. Aribelle knew the healer would be in because Aeson hardly ever left, whether there were people needing tending to or not. It was Aeson's firm belief that the instant he relaxed or left the hut unattended, that was when, as one, everyone would fall ill or become gravely injured. Aribelle didn't mind the healer's dedication to his work; in all honesty, she actually envied him a bit. Not a day went by when she didn't wish that she could put her plans into action and actually do something, rather than sit in Jurot day in and day out listening to family squabbles and trying to convince her people to fight for themselves.
After Wren's big dramatic scene where she cried about not wanting to be a bad person, not wanting to kill even if it was a life or death situation, Aribelle had received a lot of the same spiel from a few others. Those with children want to back out and live in Jurot without being needed to fight another's battle. Then there are those who wish to go back to their homelands and beg their families to come live here. Meanwhile, Aribelle has been struggling to get everyone to understand they are all pack, all family, including the witches and warlocks. She made a promise to the coven that she would help them reclaim their homeland, and that meant she would need the entire pack to come with her, because if Agatha was correct, then whatever zealot group chased them from their home has claimed it for their own. War seemed inevitable, and she wasn't one to try for peace with pretty words and cleverly worded lies, so a fight to the death it would be.
"Alpha, is everything alright?" Aeson said carefully.
"What?" Aribelle snapped, then realized that she was standing outside the door to the hut, and Aeson had opened it upon hearing her approach.
Taking a deep breath, Aribelle calmed herself, tampering down that explosive rage that threatened to erupt every time she thought back to Wren's act of defiance.
"Yes, everything is fine," Aribelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"You will need to patch up this man, mind your rear, though; he's quite grabby."
"Did this cretin touch you, Alpha?" Aeson said with a disgusted look at Thame.
"He did, but as you can see, I took care of that," Aribelle said, baring her teeth.
Aeson grabbed Thame and escorted him none too gently to the nearest bed, where he pushed him down and began examining his neck. Aribelle watched with mild interest, not caring about the injured man, but rather curious to see what Aeson would do to treat her soon-to-be prisoner. Aeson bent low over the bed, his seven-foot frame lean and toned; his skin was hazelnut, as were his eyes, with a long black beard that hung to mid-chest. Aeson's face still had a youthful roundness to it, not yet wrinkled and weathered by time.
Aeson poured a vial of liquid over the puncture wounds, causing Thame to scream and cuss, which then made Aribelle snicker under her breath. With deft fingers, Aeson stitched up the holes and gave Thame a tincture for the pain. Eventually, the entire process became far too boring for Aribelle, who began dozing softly in a chair nearby. The sound of approaching footsteps had Aribelle's eyes snapping open, her eyes on the door, and her body tensed to launch herself across the hut.
"So sorry I'm late, Aeson. I had trouble finding some of the herbs on your list," Wren said with a bright, cheery smile, her blonde ponytail swaying behind her.
"Oh. Hello, Alpha," Wren said, stopping in her tracks when she saw Aribelle.
"Enjoying your apprenticeship?" Aribelle asked, cutting her gaze to the brothers who sat whispering together.
"Very much so, Alpha. I am so grateful--"
"I don't actually care enough to hear about it, Wren. From now on, a simple yes or no when I ask a question will suffice," Aribelle said, cutting off what was sure to be an annoyingly cheerful rant about how much fun it is to heal rather than kill.
It was truly nauseating being around people who were happy for no reason, Aribelle thought. It also bothered her that the brothers kept glancing her way during their whispering. The two were up to no good and likely thought her a fool who would offer them nothing but the best hospitality that she could provide.
"Aeson, these two get tied to a bed until I come for them in the morning. Wren, go through their belongings and check if there's anything suspicious in there. They eat, they sleep, even if you need to give them a potion. No more whispering or you knock them both out, got it?" Aribelle said firmly as she got up to leave.
"Of course, Alpha," Aeson said immediately.
"Yes, Alpha," Wren mumbled.
Aribelle winked at the brothers' outraged expressions and sauntered out the door. It had been a long day, and she was ready to eat and get in her bed, torturing those two intruders could wait just a few more hours. Her cabin was an hour walk from the healer's hut, which was stationed in the thick of the general population. Being an hour away worked well for everyone because the Alpha made everyone nervous, and that just pissed Aribelle off.
Far from the healer's hut, Aribelle whistled long and loud, followed by three short high-pitched whistles --her secret call to the only person in Jurot that she truly trusted. She stood in the darkest part of the woods, under a towering oak tree, whose branches hung so low that they brushed against her feet. Minutes later, Nilzan's smoky scent reached her nostrils, and his honey-colored hair peeked out from the tree next to her.
"Good evening, Alpha," Nilzan greeted.
"I found two intruders near the northern cliffs. They claim to have been shipwrecked and scaled the cliffs to reach safety. I do not believe their story, nor do I like how they whisper together like gossiping girls," Aribelle said shortly, dismissing the pleasantries.
"Ah, so not a good evening then. What would you have me do?" Nilzan replied.
"I need two posts hammered behind my house. I will be relocating the prisoners there tomorrow, so I can get the answers I need without the two healers begging me to use words instead of my favorite knife," Aribelle said with a wicked smirk.
Nilzan chuckled low, with an approving feral look in his grey eyes.
"Those poor bastards. I will see it done before morning, Alpha," Nilzan vowed.
With an over-exaggerated bow, Nilzan waltzed away, whistling a jaunty tune. Aribelle smiled to herself as she headed home, feeling the never-ending rage subside just the slightest bit.
There is something about knowing you will soon be torturing two very handsome men that just fills a girl with wicked glee.
Seven: Desperate Measures
“Can I be a healer when I grow up, Momma?”
“That is nonsense, my beauty. Only those who cannot fight become healers. You see, they take care of the true warriors.”
Wren sat at the wooden writing desk, reading over the descriptions of a variety of plants, and studying their imprints. Aeson had been polite enough to wait for the Alpha to leave before admonishing Wren for returning to the hut without crucial ingredients for the tonic they were brewing. Of course, the healer had been kind and gentle with his words, but he made her realize how many lives could be lost if medicines were not available. Never again, she vowed to herself, would she ever return empty-handed of much-needed supplies, especially when she could save a life.
That was what Wren truly desired. She did not want to kill people or join the Alpha's stupid army. Wren did not care about the coven's problems, or that the Alpha had some grand plan to make Jurot recognized as a kingdom and secure the rights of her fellow half-wolf people to be allowed to walk freely in other lands. The only person Wren was worried about was herself, and the only thing she wanted to do was get back home to her family. So here she was, working for hardly any coin as the healer's help, hoping with increasing desperation that soon she would be able to afford commissioning a traveler to bring her home to Olthaire.
"Wren, I am going out to gather those herbs you missed. I'll be back before midday. You should check their belongings soon, before the Alpha arrives," Aeson said as he walked to the door, carrying a large burlap sack over his shoulder.
"Alright, safe travels," Wren said with a friendly wave.
Aeson looked at her curiously, and Wren groaned internally.
"I am a wolf," Aeson said slowly, his brows knit in confusion.
"Yes, I know. Sorry. Human habit," Wren blurted out, wanting to kick herself.
Aeson nodded, still looking bewildered, but walked out the door. Wren sighed heavily, knowing she didn't belong here with these monsters. Yes, she changed into a wolf now, but fighting and murdering would never be something she did willingly. When her wolf took over, she retreated completely until it sated itself on rabbit or deer, refusing to play a part in the monster she was forced to become. The monster that Agatha forced inside of her, all for the sake of Aribelle, the woman everyone around here called Alpha. Gods above, Wren hated every last beast-person in this place. She was nearly convinced that Jurot and the horrors she had witnessed here was actually one of the nine realms of hell. She had made a deal with that devil of a witch, so the idea that she died and went straight to the underworld was plausible.
Her eyes remained focused on one spot of the page, failing to see anything written as she sat lost in her morose thoughts. The Alpha would kill her the next time she showed restraint or refused to spar in The Pit. Wren had spent the last two weeks hiding here in the healer's hut, hoping to avoid the inevitable confrontation with the Alpha. Any day now, Aribelle could demand that she be present for training or command her to perform a duty far more nefarious than rifling through the intruders' belongings, and the end result would see her dead.
"Gods above, I need to get out of this place," Wren sighed, rubbing her tired eyes and slamming the book shut.
A rustling of movement caught Wren’s attention. The younger prisoner had turned on his cot to stare at her. Wren’s heart tugged at the sight of him; he was filthy, his clothes torn and covered in grime. His hair was tangled, twigs and bits of earth stuck in the snarls, and his jaw was covered in days-old stubble. It was his eyes, however, that
had Wren missing home terribly because those eyes said he wanted to get as far away from this place as he could.
He was normal.
But he wasn’t her problem; she reminded herself. It would do no good for her to begin to worry about someone else’s wellbeing when she was trying so hard to make it out of this place alive. The young man would pay the price for intruding here, and there was nothing she could do about it, even if she wanted to.
She couldn’t help him escape, not when she did not have a clear plan of escape for herself. The wolves would scent him out in a heartbeat, and she would be sentenced to death for her betrayal. No, Wren’s best chance would be to wait until she was sent out close to the border, where she could be long gone before anyone questioned why she had not returned yet. Perhaps if the man stayed alive until that moment came…No, she couldn’t chance it. Gods have mercy on her. She would have to leave him to his fate.
“Mayhap, we can assist each other. I’m Dru, and this is my brother Thame,” Dru said, hitching a thumb over his shoulder to point at his unconscious brother.
Wren snorted as she stood, shaking her head. There was nothing she could do for him or his brother. Both would die, likely before midday, unless the Alpha wanted to create a spectacle of their executions; then, there would be a feast, bonfire, and sordid debauchery.
Her eyes were again on Dru as he flashed her what was surely meant to be a charming smile but was ruined by the sight of black teeth, tinted from the potion. With a start, Wren’s head snapped to the side, where she saw rays of light were beaming through beneath the shutters. Hours must have passed as she stared at that book, lost in her own homesick thoughts and feeble escape plots. She still needed to search through their packs before the healer or the Alpha returned.
“I take it, you will consider?” Dru persisted.
“No,” Wren replied curtly.
She walked over to the healer’s table, where a black pack with a long shoulder strap laid. Unhooking the flap, Wren began to take out the smaller packs that were stuffed within.