Misguided Wolves

2. A Journey to the Border

In the continent of Skoll, four kingdoms thrived, their lands teeming with werewolves, though other species—elves, fae, and shifters—dotted the wilds. In the northeast, Kate’s father ruled Fror, a kingdom of frost-kissed forests and glowing lunar shrines. To the northwest lay Vintr, its ambitious king threatening war, the reason for the looming negotiations. In the south, Vargr sprawled across the southwest with its rugged cliffs, while Logi’s sunlit plains flourished in the southeast.

In the early hours of dawn, Kate, her father, King Mark, and a handful of Fror’s fiercest warriors set out for the border. The ride was uneventful, the crunch of hooves on frost blending with the whistle of the northern wind. Inside, Kate wrestled a storm of emotions. Tove, her wolf, paced restlessly in her mind, growling, “We should put Vintr’s king in his place.” Kate smiled at the thought but shook her head. “It’s not that simple, Tove. Peace isn’t won with claws.”

Near nightfall, they reached a clearing where a grand tent, adorned with Vintr’s silver banners, stood ready for tomorrow’s meeting. The Fror party pitched their own tent, its fabric woven with lunar runes that shimmered faintly under the stars. While King Mark and his beta, Luka, pored over maps and strategies, Kate sought a distraction. She joined Dean, one of Fror’s strongest warriors, by the treeline to hunt for dinner.

Dean, a towering figure with pale, freckled skin and fiery red hair, was like a second father to Kate. Over the years, he’d taught her combat and self-defense, his gruff lessons laced with affection. He stood brushing his long beard, lost in thought, until Kate’s approach drew a warm smile.

“You’ll pull that beard out if you keep fussing with it,” Kate teased, trying to lighten the heavy air.

Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Inconceivable! I’ve got the finest beard in all of Skoll!”

“Last week it was just the north,” Kate shot back, laughing. “Now the whole continent? Getting cocky, are we?”

Dean feigned offense, then stretched his arms skyward. “Come on, little pup, let’s fetch dinner.”

They shifted into their wolves, the air crackling with magic as their forms changed. Dean’s wolf, a massive beast with a fiery red coat, towered over Kate’s sleek, deep brown wolf, her ears tipped with white. Though smaller, she was swift, darting through the trees as they hunted rabbit and fowl. Satisfied with their bounty, they returned to camp, where the warriors had kindled a fire, its glow dancing on their faces as they sipped mead.

As the meat roasted, its savory aroma mingling with the scent of pine, a warrior prepared potatoes to complement the meal. After eating, the group gathered around the fire, trading tales of past hunts and battles, their laughter a brief reprieve from the tension of tomorrow.

Kate approached her father, where he sat with Luka, his beta, discussing outcomes. Luka, a man of Mark’s height and build, had a tanned complexion, golden blonde hair, and striking purple eyes that seemed to pierce the night. He shook his head, jabbing at points on a map. “Vintr’s allied with Vargr in the southwest. If this goes sour, they’ll have Vargr’s support. We should court Logi in the southeast to even the odds.”

Mark sighed, his optimism warring with Luka’s pragmatism. “I hear you, Luka, but we’ll cross that bridge if we must. Vintr’s king might surprise us and accept a compromise.”

“My king,” Luka said, his voice sharp, “you know he’s a snake. Power is all he craves, and he’ll do anything to get it.”

Kate hesitated, setting plates of food beside them quietly, not wanting to interrupt. But Mark’s eyes sparkled as he pulled her into the conversation. “There’s my favorite daughter!”

“Only daughter,” Kate cut in, rolling her eyes. “Only child, actually. No competition here.”

“Even with a hundred children, you’d be my favorite,” Mark said, seating her beside him. “Now help me talk sense into Luka. He doesn’t just see the stein half-empty—he doesn’t see the stein at all!”

Mark’s laughter faded as he grew serious. “We’ll offer extra trade deals, even rare goods from your mother’s homeland. As a last resort, we have you—to marry Vintr’s eldest son. He’s about five years older, but he should care for you well. Before you protest, just consider it. Your safety and our people’s peace come first. Your mother and I learned to love each other; you might, too.”

Kate’s heart sank, but she nodded. “I don’t agree, but if it’s what we must do, so be it.”

Mark’s smile was warm, though guilt flickered in his eyes. “I’m so proud of how strong you’ve become.” He squeezed her hand gently.

Luka sighed in defeat. “Fine, we’ll try it your way. We’ll plan the trade offers and only discuss war if it comes to that.”

“Excellent!” Mark said. “Now, let’s rest. We’ll need our wits tomorrow.”

They nodded, spreading out their bedrolls under the starlit sky. At dawn, they donned formal attire. Kate slipped into her deep forest green gown, its gold and chocolate-brown embroidery glinting like moonlight on frost. She tamed her curls into an intricate braided updo, her maroon cape with fur trim settling over her shoulders like a shield. Luka approached, his purple eyes grave. “It’s time, Princess.”

Kate sighed, whispering to herself and Tove, “We can do this. Duty first, but the Moon Goddess hasn’t forgotten us.” Tove growled softly, a spark of hope in her defiance, as Kate stepped toward the meeting tent.