The Wolf King's Burden

Untitled Episode

Elara's POV

The wolf at the edge of the clearing was so huge, at least twice the size of any ordinary creature. Gray and white blended for fur, sharp eyes shining yellow with no natural predator's business to attend to. A half-shifted werewolf; dangerous, controlled, and very aware of letting me see it.

I did not move an inch. Running would alert it to its hunting instinct. Fighting, tired and cornered in a hollow, would kill me. So I remained still, staring into that glowing stare and attempting to determine what it was seeking.

The wolf changed. Bones rearranged and realigned, fur retracting into human skin. In less than thirty seconds, a man occupied space where the wolf had. He was old, maybe seventy years old, with long gray hair pulled back and a heavily scarred face. He wore unassuming clothes, frayed jeans and a leather jacket that had more good days in front of it than it ever did.

"Damian Veylor," he growled, his voice creaking from the transformation. "You look like shit."

I didn't recognize him, but he knew me all right. "Do I know you?"

"You knew my son. Marcus was Beta of your father's pack before you killed him." The old man moved closer, but his posture wasn't aggressive. "I'm Owen. I've lived out here in the wild country since the pack fell apart. Watching. Waiting."

Marcus. My father's Beta and best friend from childhood. The first guy I'd killed when the curse took hold. I'd gotten out of bed with his throat pinned beneath mine and his blood splattered on the pack hall walls.

"I'm sorry," I said, the apology hollow and without meaning. "What did I do to Marcus"

"It wasn't your fault." Owen sat down on a nearby boulder. "I know about the curse. I know that Morganna Thorne did this to you. Marcus wouldn't have you carry guilt for something you couldn't control."

"How can you even say that? I murdered your son."

"The curse killed my son. The witch killed my son. You were merely the tool she used." Owen pulled out a water bottle and took a swig from it. "I've been tracking you for three years, watching you from the shadows. Trying to figure out if there was anything left of the Alpha Marcus believed in. Today, I learned."

"What answer?"

"You're moving toward a cure, not away from responsibility. That's more than most cursed wolves would do." He tossed the water bottle to me. "Drink. You're about to pass out."

I caught it but didn't take a sip right away. "What are you doing here? If you've been following me, you'd know Kaine's pack is on my tail. Hanging with me is a death sentence."

"I'm an old thief who has been squatting in the woods. Kaine lost interest in me years ago." Owen leaned back against the rock. "Besides, I owed Marcus. He asked me once, if something were to happen to him, to watch over you. Took three years to learn how to collect on that promise."

The water was cold and pure. I drank plenty, regaining a bit of strength. "Kaine's hunters are close. You need to get away before they track you to this point."

"Those hunters are going after a healer girl down to the river now. Clever move, splitting up. Bought you some time." Owen looked at me with those sharp old eyes. "You're off to the Whispering Stones. Looking for the circle of stones where worlds are thin."

I still went. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm not only a rogue, boy. I'm a Keeper. My family has guarded the holy sites for generations, keeping the old magic out of the hands of those who would misuse it." He got to his feet slowly. "And I know what you're trying. The Moonstone Ritual. Killing magic. Most people who try it don't survive to tell about it."

"I don't have any choice."

"Everybody has choices. Yours just tend to be horrible." Owen pointed north. "The Whispering Stones are two miles that way. But you won't get there before sundown, and after sundown this place isn't safe. The barrier weakens in the evening; ghosts can pass through, and not all of them are very pleasant."

"What do I do then?"

"I suggest you stick around here until the girl catches up. She will, you know. Garrett's okay, but the healer's more than she seems. She'll lose them in the river and return." Owen pulled a wrapped package out of his coat and hurled it to me. "Eat. You'll need your strength for what's next."

The package had dried meat and some sort of bread inside. My belly growled at the aroma of food. I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and my body was running on fumes.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked between bites. "If you're a Keeper, you'd be stopping me from doing the ritual, not bringing me to it."

"The ritual itself is not evil. It's a tool, like a knife. It can be used to heal or to destroy, depending on who wields the knife." Owen returned to his seat. "I've been watching Elara Thorne too. That girl has her grandmother's knowledge but not her grandmother's cruelty. She's trying to make better of Morganna's mistakes instead of continuing them."

"Do you trust her?"

"I do think her good. If she has the determination to see it through, that's something else." He glared at me with a cold, icy stare. "The Moonstone Ritual requires sacrifice. Real sacrifice. Not petals and honeyed words and good intentions. Somebody has to sacrifice their life force in order to seal your soul back together. Are you prepared to do that?"

"Elara says she's the only one who can. She shares blood with Morganna."

"She tells you what that sacrifice actually means? What giving up life force does to a person?" Owen's head shook. "It ain't nice. It ain't pleasant. She'll be giving up decades of her life, perhaps centuries. And there's no guarantee it'll even succeed. The ritual could drain the life from her completely and leave you no worse off than you were originally."

The food disintegrated to ash in my mouth. "She didn't say that bit."

"Oh, come on. Girl's desperate. Kaine's been playing on her for five years, threatening her with everything she does wrong. She looks at you as her savior, even if it kills her." Owen got up and yawned. "The point is, are you desperate enough to let her die for you?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Three years of living as a beast, of waking up in bodies and blood, of watching my pack flee and my name be vile. Three years of wanting it to end, of praying for a cure or dying, either one first.

And someone was standing before me now, promising to take it all from me, and all it would cost is her life.

"The ritual demands three things," Owen broke the silence. "Grave dirt from your family's graves, which you already have. Silver Falls water, a day's journey west. And a Moonstone, which." He hesitated, his expression clouding.

"Which what?"

"Which Kaine has in his vault. He's amassed magical things over the years, stored them away like a dragon. His dearest possession is the Moonstone; a crystal fist-sized thing which glows in full moon light. He'll never part with it willingly."

My stomach plunged. "So we steal it."

"You're going to have to steal it. From the most heavily fortified pack compound in the north regions. By Kaine's best fighters. And you, meanwhile, are being hunted as a traitor and a murderer." Owen smiled coldly. "Like I said. Poor decisions."

We sat there in silence, the impossibility settling on everything. The sun started falling towards the horizon, painting the forest in orange and gold. Beautiful, in a way that felt cruel. The world kept turning, kept being beautiful, even when everything was breaking.

"There is another option," Owen whispered. "You could run. Keep running. Run far enough that Kaine's arm no longer reaches. Live out your damned existence in the wilderness, free of pack politics and old grudges. You'd be alone, but you'd be alive."

"Until next full moon, when I pass out and stop being and slay whoever is unlucky enough to stand in my path."

"Good as getting yourself and the girl killed trying to steal from Kaine."

Maybe. Maybe. But getting away meant staying broken. Getting away meant living with his monster self forever, every full moon resulting in another body count, another roll of names to add to his guilt.

"I'm not running," I said. "Not anymore."

Owen nodded as though he'd expected that answer. "Then you'd better be smart about this. Kaine's compound has weaknesses every fortress does. And you have one more thing he doesn't expect."

"What's that?"

"He thinks you're nothing but a cursed Alpha on the run. He has no clue you're already dead inside, so that leaves you with nothing to lose. That makes you the most dangerous kind of enemy." Owen headed north. "Let's go. I'll take you to the Whispering Stones. When your healer girl shows up, we can decide how to pilfer from the most dangerous Alpha in the north and not end up dead in the process."

I followed him through the darkening forest, my father's grave dirt stuck in my pocket and Owen's words heavier still in my mind. Three years of running from what I was. Three years of waking in ruins and sleeping to blood.

Maybe it was time to stop running and start fighting back.

We reached the Whispering Stones as total darkness descended upon the forest. The circle of stones proved to be as the name had promised: twelve upright stones, all standing in a circle, each one bearing symbols that were meant nothing to me. Within the circle was another atmosphere, heavy with an older and more powerful energy. The boundary between worlds, so thin that I could reach out and touch.

Owen stopped on the lip of the circle. "Don't go in yet. Not until your healer arrives. The stones make magic stronger, but they also make emotion stronger. In your state, with the curse already balanced on the edge of instability, going in there might bring about a change even without the full moon."

I stood still, watching the rocks across from me. My skin felt the jolt of the power emanating from them. Owen had been right, this was a place that was dangerous.

A branch snapped in the woods behind us. Owen grabbed for a knife at his belt and I tensed, anticipating Kaine's wolves running out of the woods.

Instead, Elara charged into the clearing, soaked through and out of breath. Her clothes were in tatters, and a trickle of blood ran down her forehead from a gash, but she was alive with a vengeance.

"Took you long enough," Owen drawled, exhaling a breath of relief.

Elara's eyes went wide at the appearance of him. "Owen? What are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" I asked.

"He saved me from Kaine's compound once before. Three years ago, when I tried to escape." Elara limped towards us. "Kaine caught up with me at the border. Broke three of my ribs to inform me what happens to people who try to escape."

Owen's expression was unyielding. "And yet here you are, trying again."

"Third time's the charm, huh?" I tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace. I looked at her. "Garrett and his wolves are roughly four hours behind me. I shook them in the river like I planned on, but they picked up my trail again by the old mill. We don't have much time."

"Then we had better talk fast," Owen said to them. "Because what you two are about to do is suicide, and I'm going to help you do it anyway."