3:Who?
1080 Words
"Holy Goddess," Haldor breathed, his voice laced with disbelief as he looked at the Alpha’s wounded chest.
"Is it that bad, Haldor?" Beta Kena asked. "He needs to return to his chambers soon."
Haldor lifted his eyes from the wound and looked between the Beta and the Alpha; for the first time in forever, the Alpha saw shock in the old healer's eyes.
"Bad?" The healer’s voice shook. "Alpha, if you had arrived even ten minutes after the wound was closed up, you would have been dead. By now we’d be preparing for your pyre. This—" He raised his hand toward the wound. "Whoever did this… did a good job. They didn’t just stop the bleeding, they sewed you up. It’s something I’ve never seen before." The man continued to marvel.
Beta Kena moved closer to the Alpha to see the stitches—his pupils dilated in excitement immediately he saw them. "That’s true, Haldor, I’ve never seen anything like that before."
"And you claimed you were hit by silver?" Haldor arched his brows as he asked Alpha Fenris. "But you’re totally fine. Whatever the person did…” he tsked, “either she’s a witch or someone sent by the Moon Goddess."
Kena nodded his head, his jaw tightening as he considered the possibility. Was it actually possible that he was hit by silver and he didn’t die?
"Whoever did this saved your life Alpha," the healer continued, and his words instantly brought back the strange woman’s face to Fenris’s mind. Their eyes had locked when she had declared that she was going to save his life.
"Uhm, uhm," Alpha Fenris cleared his throat and shifted on the couch as the healer applied a plaster to cover the wound’s surface.
"Alpha?" Haldor’s voice made Fenris look up to the healer. "Please tell us who did this. Not only should the person be rewarded, the person should be invited to join the infirmary here. With those skills, I’m sure our soldiers' recovery time will greatly reduce."
"That’s enough, Haldor!" Fenris snapped, shoving the healer’s hands off his chest. He pulled his shirt and started to throw it over his shoulders.
"Let me help you with that, Alpha," Kena quickly hurried to help him wear his shirt.
"I’m fine!" Fenris snapped, his voice laced with irritation, and the woman’s face slid back into his head. He couldn’t shake off her disrespect—the way she had dared to look him straight in the eye, the way she had defied all of his orders. She had to pay for that, no subject of his would become some treacherous baboon! No! Not under his watch.
Kena frowned, wondering what was wrong, but even he was wise enough not to ask; nobody sensible dared to anger Alpha Fenris, especially when he was already upset.
Haldor’s forehead creased with worry. "I’m sorry Alpha, but—"
"But some random healer thought her skills were more important than her obeying my orders!" Fenris growled, his nostrils flared and his blue eyes flashed a different color.
"But she saved your life, my lord," Kena shot in, but his voice was shallow, careful to not upset him.
"Yes, but only because she refused to follow my order. Skill without submission is nothing. I will not watch my pack crumble under my watch!" He stood up hurriedly, ignoring the gnawing pain in his chest.
"Where’s she?" he asked Kena, his jaw tightening.
"She’s in the holding cells, she’s being prepared for the sacrifice," Kena said. "She hasn't said a word since she was thrown in."
His jaw ticked, something about that triggered him even more. What was she trying to prove? She should be throwing herself on the ground, begging for mercy and pleading to see him, instead she was just there, silent.
Fenris instantly dashed out of the infirmary. Beta Kena hurried behind him, trying to match his pace.
"Alpha,” Kena called from behind him, rushing to meet up with Fenris. “Haldor said you needed to rest," Kena urged, his voice low and soothing. "Please return to your chambers and rest, I’ll have the chefs bring you your evening meal. The Council is already gathered in the ritual room. They expect—"
"They expect a puppet?" Fenris stopped in his tracks, squaring his shoulders and glaring at his Beta.
"No Alpha, but—" Kena quickly shifted his gaze from his Alpha, swallowing as he looked away.
"But nothing." Fenris placed a finger on Kena’s lips to shush him.
Without another word, Fenris continued walking to the holding cell.
"Alpha, good—" the guards bowed as they saw him approaching, but Fenris didn’t wait for them to open the door. He instantly kicked the door open. The doors slammed against the stone walls and his anger raged more the moment her scent hit his nose.
Irene was kneeling near the altar in the middle of the room with her head bowed. Despite feeling his presence as he walked in, she refused to raise her head. The last thing she was going to do was give him the satisfaction he was desperately searching for. She was draped in black silk—the pack ritual clothing. The fabric was a great contrast to her blonde hair, which ran down over her shoulders.
The guards slammed the doors shut and the sound caused Irene to jolt. Fenris immediately lunged at Irene, his eyes reddening by the second.
"You!" He grabbed her by the neck with his hand, looking at her with disgust. "You’re the nasty woman who thinks she can disobey me and walk away scot-free!" He instantly unsheathed his wolf fingers, grazing it across her face.
"Fenris! Control yourself!" Elara—Fenris’s grandmother warned. She stepped forward from where Luna Lilith and the other elders were standing. "The ritual will start soon. She has already been purified."
"Purified?!" Fenris stood immediately and walked up to his grandmother. "She’s a rebel! She ignored my orders! You want to offer her to the Moon Goddess? That’s fine by me, but the Goddess will have her when I’m done with her.” He locked eyes with his grandmother, daring her to challenge his authority.
"Take her to the pits and starve her for three days!” His voice shook with anger. “Give her no food and water!" His voice echoed off the walls, but the guards hesitated, their eyes darting between the raging Alpha and the grandmother.
- Writer
