Chapter 4: No Gratitude, Only Chains
1390 Words
Chapter 4: No Gratitude, Only Chains
POV: Ayla Nightwind
Hands grab me.
Not softly.
As the world tilts and snaps back into place, strong grips hold my arms. I don’t fight. Not because I can’t — because Eli is still holding my cloak, and I don't want him to be scared of me.
"Easy," someone says quietly, as if I'm a wild animal that might run away.
The chains make a noise.
The sound cuts through me more sharply than pain.
I jerk my head up. "No."
The word comes out rough and broken, but it's loud enough to make the wolves closest to me flinch.
The Alpha growls, "I said bind her wounds. Not her wrists."
A break. A change in weight. There is a sense of uncertainty in the ring of bodies around us.
One of the warriors says, "It's protocol." “She’s a rogue. She killed pack men.”
The Alpha snaps back, "She saved my son." “That makes her my responsibility.”
Responsibility
Another word for "control."
The chains get looser, but they don't go away. Someone swaps leather instead of iron and wraps thick cuffs around my wrists instead. They pull tight enough to remind me I'm not free, but not so tight that I can't pretend I am.
I laugh quietly.
"Don't flatter yourselves," I say. "You'd already be chasing my shadow if I wanted to run."
Some of them look hurt. One looks scared.
Good.
A healer moves forward. She is a woman with gray braids and sharp eyes. She kneels down in front of me and cuts off my sleeve without asking.
The cold hurts a lot when the air hits the wound.
She says, "You're lucky." "One more inch and you would have lost the arm."
"Still time," I say.
She snorts even though she doesn't want to and presses a cloth against my skin. Pain comes on strong and fast. I don't say anything.
Eli squats down next to me and holds his small hand up, not sure if he can touch.
I move my head a little. I say to him, "You did a good job." "You were brave."
His eyes shine. "You were bleeding."
"I still am."
He swallows. "Are they going to hurt you?"
The wolves stop moving.
I look the Alpha in the eye over Eli's head. "That depends."
"On what?" Eli wants to know.
I say softly, "On whether they think I'm a person or a problem."
The Alpha's jaw gets tight.
He says, "We're going back." "Everyone."
A whisper travels quickly.
"Inside the territory?" someone asks.
"With her?" another person whispers.
I force myself to get up, even though I'm feeling dizzy. Leather hurts my wrists. The new bandage still lets blood through.
"I'm not going anywhere," I say.
The Alpha looks at me. "You don't have a choice."
I smile a little. "I always have a choice."
"You'll freeze out here," he says. "Or bleed out." No matter what, you won't live to prove anything.
"Then let me die," I say. "Don't act like this is being nice."
The word "Nice" seems to touch a nerve. His eyes harden again, and the shutters slam shut.
He says, "This isn't about being nice." "It's about keeping my son safe."
"By tying up the woman who saved him?"
"Yes," he says without thinking. "If that's what it takes."
At least he is honest.
They move us then. Wolves are standing close together, weapons low but ready. The forest opens up in front of us and closes behind us, making the snow crunch under our feet. Eli walks between us, and with every step, his shoulder touches my hip.
I count the trees. Paths. Wind shifts.
I don't miss anything.
Whispers follow us like ghosts.
"That's her."
"Crazy Luna."
"She murdered six men."
"She smells like blood and winter."
"She should be dead."
I keep my head up. I've been called worse names.
The gates are ahead of me. They are made of thick wood and iron and are carved with pack symbols that used to belong to me. Torches burn brightly, casting long shadows on the snow.
As we go by, silence hits hard.
Every face turns.
Pack members stand along the inside wall with their eyes wide and mouths shut. Some people look interested. Some are scared. Some people are angry.
Some of them look embarrassed.
The Alpha puts up a hand. "Make way."
No one is going fast enough.
Eli squeezes my hand. "They're staring."
"Let them," I say softly. "It means you're still alive."
The Alpha stops in the middle of the courtyard. Snow falls steadily, landing on shoulders, lashes, and hair. This time, the wolves spread out again, but closer together.
The council moves forward as one.
Cloaks in gray. Eyes that are hard.
"We told you," the oldest says to the Alpha. "She would bring chaos."
I raise my chin. "Hi, Councilor." Are you still hiding behind laws you break in private?
They all take a sharp breath at the same time.
Another person snaps, "You have no standing here." "You were exiled."
I say, "Exile requires truth." "You buried that."
The Alpha cuts in. "That's enough. She’s under my protection.”
“Then you claim her crimes,” the eldest says. “Six dead men.”
"They attacked my son."
“They followed orders.”
My laugh breaks the silence. "That excuse seems to be popular.”
Eli suddenly steps forward. "They were going to kill me."
Silence.
The council looks down on him. Some get softer. Some people do, but not all.
The oldest one clears his throat. "We'll talk about that later."
I say, "No." "Now it will be talked about."
I turn my tied wrists forward, and the chains make a loud noise in the quiet.
"Do you want gratitude?" I ask the courtyard. "You won't get it. Do you want obedience? You will choke on it.
The Alpha looks at me. "Ayla—"
"I want to be free," I say over him. "You can't put me in a cage again."
Murmurs rise quickly and angrily.
"She's unstable."
"She's making threats against us."
"She's already bleeding—"
"Shut up," the Alpha roars.
The yard is still.
He looks at me, really looks at me, and I can see a hint of regret on his face.
He says, "You will stay." "Until we figure out who you are."
I smile slowly, and it's dangerous.
"Then make up your mind quickly," I say. "Because if I stay after dawn—"
I lean in closer, and the chains between us rise.
"—everyone here will find out exactly why you were afraid to let me speak."
A low voice eases the tension.
"Alpha."
A man comes out of the group of warriors. Very tall. Lean. Too calm. I know him—not by his face, but by his absence. He is the type who watches instead of acting.
Someone mutters, "Hale."
My blood runs cold.
Commander Hale bows his head to the Alpha. “With respect, this is getting out of hand. The pack is watching. The council is watching.”
“I am watching,” I say. “You sent them.”
His eyes flick to me for half a second. Too fast. Too clean.
“I sent no one,” he replies. “But I did warn the council she’d be dangerous.”
The Alpha’s gaze snaps between us. “You ordered the escort?”
Hale spreads his hands. “I ordered protection.”
I step forward, chains rattling. “Then explain why your men told the child his father wouldn’t care if he died.”
A hush falls so deep I hear the torches crackle.
Hale smiles thinly. “Grief makes people hear things.”
The Alpha’s voice drops to something lethal. "You will answer her."
Hale doesn't see him.
He looks at the council.
"She's telling your son lies," he says. "And if you don't stop this now, Alpha, she won't be the only problem you have when you wake up."
I look the Alpha in the eye and tell him the truth that he has been avoiding.
"Choose," I say softly. "Me in chains..." or him exposed.
Hale's smile goes away.
"Kill her," he says.
And the council agrees.
- Writer
