The Vampire King's Mortal Mate

The Lowly Black Cur

The lands of Urda, home to the Lycan packs, laid cushioned between the lands of the vampires and the elves; Baldor and Moorhen. The Lycans were widely regarded as the most violent of the species, the very nature of their "gifts" being a violent and painful one.

The transition from man to lycan had claimed the lives of some who were too weak to accommodate the bone breaking, muscle tearing metamorphosis during the first turning. The turning was a transformation that yielded the huge powerful beast capable of striking fear into most who would behold it; mortal and immortal alike. All lycans experienced this.

Their agreement to lead the front lines with the vampires while the elves cast their enchantments from behind the lines had almost single handedly changed the outcome of the blood wars, they were a perfect representation of brute strength.

The lands of Urda were truly beautiful, but in the silence that mostly dwelled, the danger of a lurking Lycan always abound. Many a runner who had been foolish enough to venture into these lands without the bloodtooth mark had paid for their stupidity with their lives, killings which went largely unretaliated by the bloodtooth court as they were well within their rights.

Tobias had disciplined his runners accordingly, pained that the Lycans who had perpetrated these murders could scarcely be brought to book. As was always the case with the species, disputes which couldn't be settled under the auspices of the law would be resolved in times of dispute between the species.

Tobias had carried out his necessary inquiries and waited patiently, biding the time before he had to strike back in order to remind the Lycans that his runners were his and his only to reprimand, no one else's.

The Urdish lands, cold and unforgiving, much in similarity to the Baldorian lands was known for raising great warrior lycans, some of whom the conclave had always found rather advantageous to call upon whenever the need arose.

One of these warrior lycans was Erik, by far the most brutal and bloodthirsty Lycan these lands had ever seen in recent times. He had chosen to walk the paths of the dreaded lycans; Mursha the greyback and Silvia the bloodhound, his parents. They were murderous Lycans who slaying both elves and vampires alike while they lived and had eventually met their ends at the hand of Aldrich Bloodtooth.

The Lycans had no single ruler and instead were made up of several communities of packs led usually by the oldest, easy pickings for a lycan with his strength. He had been exiled after his parents were killed as the Lycan communities had considered it too extreme to order the death of a child on the basis of it's parent's crimes.

However, as they knew, with Lycans, the urge to avenge or revenge was an ever present urge once awakened, a mind boggling desire which overtook the Lycan concerned till it was satisfied. Their decision to let Erik live had been Ill advised but there were some among them who were not altogether pleased with the brutal manner in which two of their most powerful members had been permanently silenced by the vampire Aldrich.

They had advocated for the life of a young Erik, not because they wanted him to live, but as a means of protest against the vampire who had slain his parents. Aldrich had been very much against the decision, driving majority of the lycan elders to insist even more on it but ultimately conceding to send him on an exile.

The decision had been a bad one and would put the young lycan through untold suffering. A lycan was nothing without his pack. The majority of the lycan elders were too swayed by their desires to spite Aldrich Bloodtooth that they hadn't stopped to consider how their decisions might affect the lycan in question.

Erik had suffered greatly, having to experience his turning alone and living in the grey areas between the species and not really having the support of any of them, He lived on the neglected lands on the borders between the vampires and the lycans, the Lycans and the elves, the species and the humans. He had lived a life of risk, putting his life on the line to be able to hunt and eat. He was mostly fed by compassionate warrior lycans who on hearing his story had taken great pity on him.

They had chased animals into his path and abandoned leftover carcasses for him to find, but ensured he never encroached onto the lands he had been exiled from. He had grown into a very strong lycan, prompting the patrol of lycans charged with ensuring he never crossed the borders into Urdish lands to be doubled, the sheer size of him much more than that of any lycan born in recent times.

He had been in hiding for too long, biding his time and hoping that this day would come. He had decided to wait till he was strong enough to take on the lycan warriors who patrolled the borders. If he wasn't successful with his attempt, it would likely cost him his life, a risk he was prepared to take.

He was tired of living like a lowly dog, his parents had been lycan royalty, prime lycan, the very epitome of strength and unrivalled power, quick to react to any challenge to their strength. He insulted their memories by yielding to the sanctions that kept him here, an outcast from his kind.

He knew he would face great adversity upon challenging these sanctions and having that in mind, he had trained twice as hard, put himself through twice the pain and endured twice the suffering the lycan warriors would. It was never going to be an easy task going against the lycan warriors of Urda, no matter how hard he trained.

He had decided he was going to be diplomatic and attempt to negotiate his passage back into these lands, using brute force only when it had failed. It would almost certainly ensure that he was killed but he had decided that an honorable death at the hands of the lycan warriors would bring more honor to his parents' name far more than his current disappointing situation.

He had waited for the darkness to fall and the moon was high up in the sky, a glorious time to end it all if this didn't work.

He was currently on the border closest to Badar's pack. He had been a friend of his parents and the first lycan elder who had taken pity on him as a child and advocate that he should be spared. He had also driven other lycan elders to see reasons as to why he should be spared. He had stirred up the animosity against Aldrich and his murder of their lycan compatriots and used it as a tool to secure Erik's safety. If he was going to live through this, he had the best chance of doing so on Badar's territory.

He looked up at the moon for the umpteenth time tonight, unsure of himself and the decision he was about to take. The forest was quiet with the only sound he could hear being the rustling of leaves under his feet as he moved and the ten lycan warrior heartbeats in the forest around him. He couldn't see them but he knew they were there. They had obviously observed his increased determination to wonder into lycan territory and had gathered to quell any such attempt. With a deep breath and a strong mental effort to wave away the cowardly emotions that threatened to take hold of him, he decided it was time.

He shrugged off his coat and with bold steps fuelled with the deep emotions of revenge and anger at the way he had been unfairly judged, he stepped across the boundary lines and into lycan territory. He had scarcely done so when he heard the sound of painful howls from the several lycan warriors as they morphed into the beasts which represented their true nature and stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight.

He fell on his knees and bowed his head, communicating that he wouldn't attempt to fight and that he would surrender to their authority. That didn't seem to be enough to the huge beasts who now glared angrily at him, large muscles throbbing under shiny furs and teeth bared, dripping with saliva. Their wolf like forms standing on two hind feet were quite intimidating and fearsome, the apex predator in these parts.

They stood quite a distance away but he knew that once they decided to attack, closing the distance in a matter of seconds wouldn't be a problem. The first two lycans who had emerged from the shadows broke away from the pack and getting down on all fours raced towards him, tearing away little trees and vegetation as they ran wildly towards him.

His heartbeat quickened and pounded loudly in his ears, the fur under his skin itching to reveal itself, to challenge the aggression the two lycans were currently showing. He kept himself under control. If he played this wrong and killed a lycan warrior tonight, he would be hunted down and killed no matter where he ran to. He could only see two warriors currently running towards him to engage him. It seemed the others hadn't deemed him enough of a threat to engage, however, if one of the warriors was severely injured or killed, they would chase and relent only once he had been killed, regardless of the territory. The laws guiding the species allowed it.

The lycan closest to him, a large brown furred warrior, had gotten within reach of Erik and his kneeling frame. He bared his claws and slashed wildly across Erik's chest and with another fluid motion, bit down on his shoulder, lifting him and flinging him across the forest floor.

Erik howled in pain as the first lycan made contact, his screams interrupted as he crashed against the thick thrunk of a large tree. He fell to the ground, bloody and in pain. Blood oozed from the slashes across his chest and the deep bite on his shoulder.

The fur within him screamed to be let out, to be given a chance to return the aggression but Erik steadied himself, he was one impulsive mistake away from ending his life. The lycan who had attacked him stood a little distance away, growling deeply, his mouth and claws bloody from the injuries inflicted on Erik. The other lycan who accompanied him stood closely too, and with a loud growl, they started racing towards him again.

Erik had decided he was going to fight. If he kept this submissive stance, a second attack would surely kill him. He let out a loud and deep growl as he allowed the thick black fur within him start to unravel.

"Enough", a strong voice commanded from behind him. The two lycans halted their advance, sliding across the forest floor as they buried their claws into the dirt. Erik had abandoned his transformation upon hearing the voice, he needed whoever it was to understand that he was ready to negotiate.

" I see the lowly black cur has grown some balls ", the voice continued. Erik knew the direction from which the voice came instinctively but waited to see who it was that had addressed the lycans.

"You are not allowed on these lands Erik. Leave now before I change my mind about letting you live", the voice commanded, the aggression in his voice thick and unmistakable.

Erik stood to his feet, the wounds inflicted by the lycan had healed completely by now, a dull ache left behind to remind him of the magnitude of his injuries.

" Take me to Badar. This lowly black Cur seeks an audience. I will accept death, but only if Badar offers it himself", Erik challenged as he stared into the darkness. He had nothing to lose at this point.