— Elaeya —

I was walking back towards camp with a complete stranger in tow. I didn’t know who he was, nor what he wanted, all that I knew is that I consented to this. Again. Twice in so few hours, I did something I would not have expected of myself.

I took slow deep breaths opening slowly my senses and instincts—but not open enough to face the kind of uncontrollable urges I have felt when first we met.

Nothing from my instincts told me that I was in danger, or doing the wrong thing. Actually, I was getting very little at all. What I did get was that I was walking in the right direction, and that nothing should be altered. So I kept going.

We walked mostly in silence.

I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to a stranger who may have access to your emotions and desires, who can alter the way you feel by his mere presence, who is said to be your future, your life.

I haven’t heard that many stories about mates. When I would ask, my mother would simply say they are something to avoid, or nothing worth the effort. But I’d asked my father a few times when mother was away. He told me a little. But now, they would have to tell me more. I needed to know more. I could choose or discard this without understanding what I was choosing or discarding.

But mother wouldn’t let me, would she? This would only open profound and powerful wounds.

Were mates so wrong? It didn’t feel wrong.

When I closed my eyes, there was a peacefulness I’ve never experienced before. I may understand very little about it, but never had my instincts guided me wrong.

Everything my senses told me about this man, told me he was dangerous, one to be careful about. From his looks to the permeating scent of blood and death that enveloped him. But it’s not what my instincts told me.

So I pushed away my confusion, and like so many times before, followed the path that was laid for me.

— Kaden —

We walked for nearly an hour. We did cross the river and went further up the hills on the other side where the trees were particularly dense.

She was hidden again inside her hood. The clothes she wore, I could see now, were a bit loose and ill-fitting, they were not of great quality and were probably mostly utilitarian in nature.

As we approach a particularly steep section, she raised a hand signaling me to stay behind. She said nothing, and I suspected by her body language, that sound would have given more than she wanted, so I listened and stopped my process.

She climbed the near-vertical cliff beside us with agility. It wasn’t that high and she reached the top within more or less twenty seconds.

As I looked up at her, I heard the disturbing sound of a shift. It was brisk, swift. Shifting never really bothered me, but looking up at her, the distance so short, yet I couldn’t see what was before her, she was out of reach and I didn’t like it.

I took a step towards the cliff, ready to climb when I heard, “Come on up.”

It wasn’t a normal voice. It wasn’t a human voice either. It sounded like human words spoken by vocal cords not shaped for human speech. It sounded more animal than man, but the words were clear enough to be understood.

I didn’t hesitate and climbed up swiftly.

She was not too far from the edge of the cliff, looking at a camp.

There were things here that could remind me of camping grounds. But this was way too far from civilization, too purposely hidden, this was not a group of people camping for fun, they were in hiding. But the things strewn here and there got very little of my attention. The beast before me did.

It was huge and dark. When I say huge I mean at least tree or four hundred pounds of muscles, and when I say dark, I mean of the blackest black you can imagine. Most black wolves are not pure black, like me, but more of a deep dark grey. Pure black wolves would probably be a melanistic wolf. But the black of this wolf was much deeper than this. Black surfaces still have some refractivity. This wolf’s hair had none. It was like all light got sucked in, just like it would be in a black hole, which made his shape slightly indistinct. Only its teeth and eyes were truly visible. And those eyes were red. Not glowing red obviously, but the deep dark colour of blood.

This wolf had very little in common, with common wolves, just like mine. It was not a wolf I’d be eager to fight. The only thing that came to mind when I looked at it was the stories I heard as a child of demon-wolves.

“Who are you?” it asked.

It talked. It freaking talked. No werewolf I’d ever seen could talk in wolf form. It would require maybe to fully shift, except for the vocal cords, but even then the mouth shape would be problematic, it’s pretty hard to speak b’s when you don’t technically have lips. I don’t see how this could be done without magic.

There had been stories, of course, of talking wolves, but they generally were not werewolves. Maybe a wizard using magic to shapeshift, or a variety of supernatural beings, guardian spirits of certain forests, or older gods of some land.

The only thing that ringed true in my head was demon-wolf, again.

“Who are you?” I asked it in return, unwilling to bend.

“He is my father,” said Elaeya. I looked at her in my peripheral.

Well, that was unexpected.

Maybe I should be a little more diplomatic. Man, I’ve never been really good at diplomacy. Please, let me not fuck this up.

“My name is Kaden Devon,” I said a little subdued. Just a little.

“Why are you here?” asked this wolf in a gravely rumble. This sounded so alien, I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this can be done. Could I do that? Can this be learned? Is this even a werewolf?

Elaeya smelt of werewolves, but I noticed when I followed her into the woods that this was not all that she smelt. I could not decode what type of mix she was, but she was definitely a hybrid.

The wolf before me smelt werewolf, maybe a little different though. A different breed maybe?

“He is my mate,” she told her father.

His demeanor changed somewhat. He didn’t really move, but the tension in his body shifted.

He kept his eyes on her now. It was like some kind of communication was going on between them.

“What are your instincts telling you?” he asked her.

She hesitated a little, closed her eyes and bend her head a little back. I didn’t understand what was going on, but her father waited patiently. And so I did the same.

“Change is coming,” she finally said, looking at him again.

“Must this be done?” he asked her. I wasn’t sure what they were talking about.

She shook her head. “I don’t know, but something must be done.”

The wolf turned his gaze back to me. “What are your intentions?”

I shrugged.

He growled a bit.

I’m not easily impressed.

“We just met,” I explained.

“What are your intentions towards her?”

It gave me a flashback of when I asked the very same thing to Darren.

I sighed. “I’m curious to know who my mate is,” I said. “But what will happen will be what she chooses.” Translation, this is not your decision but hers, so back off.

“What will you do for her?”

“What kind of question is this?” I threw back at him.

He looked me up and down. “Are you an Alpha?”

There was a weight to this question that seemed to supersede what I understood. Next to me Elaeya tensed.

“I am.”

“Where is your pack?” he asked.

“Far from here.”

“Why are you here?”

“To help and support allies who were in trouble.”

“The battle?” I knew he meant of the one I’d just escaped. It was probably why they were leaving too, I guessed. If they lived in hiding in the woods, battle like these could go in all sorts of directions. It was always safer to stay clear as much as possible.

I nodded.

“You want her to follow you, become your Luna?”

“I don’t know. Can she?” I asked him, but turned my gaze to her, truly asking her.

Her eyes fell upon me and it was like she was looking for the answer to this somewhere in my face.

Her father didn’t interrupt.

She eventually shrugged. “Maybe,” she said softly.

“You need to know better than this,” her father told her.

“I know,” she said.

“Your mother will be back soon,” he said. He took a long breath and exhaled, his eyes closed in weariness. “Three days,” he told us. “Three days to know.”

“Know what?” I asked confused.

“He is giving us three days to figure out if I should follow you or not?” she explained.

“She will stay in the vicinity, call at dusk and dawn. We lose contact, we come to take her back,” he told me.

I just blinked at him.

“You can refuse,” she told me.

“And then what?” I asked her.

“Then you leave to where you come from, and so do we,” she said.

I tried to stifle a sigh.

Man, why do I keep getting ultimatums?

“Fine,” I said.

“Do you have a phone?” she asked me.

I nodded, she extended her hand and I complied. Gave her my cellphone.

She lit the screen, then showed it to me, away from her for me to put my password in. I don’t generally do this, but I strangely complied.

She opened my message app and sent a text to an unknown number. I heard a beeping near the wolf. His cellphone, I assumed. Then she shared my location, which I was a lot more uncomfortable with. She gave me back my phone, then took a knife from her belt and cut her left hand.

She went to grab a white piece of clothes and wiped both her hand and knife on it, then put it in easy reach of her father before putting the knife back and walking away.

She then slowly climbed down the cliff, and for a few seconds, I was left there dumbfounded and puzzled.

I inclined my head the slightest at the wolf in only farewell and he did the same. Then I went down with her.