XALIA'S TRAGEDY

CHAPTER 3

Orla would constantly berate her, throwing ugly words of condemnation at her and ordering her about. No one came near her to befriend her; only snap at her. She was a reject. She would cry oftenly.

“Oh, Selene”, she would often summon, “Change this for me.”

But Selene didn’t return to her as Xalia often requested.

So, the months dragged on, with Orla despising her so intently, he wouldn’t even violate her. He could not bear to touch her. However much he looked at her, his developed hatred intensified. Xalia was forced into the hard labor of the pack. She hunted pretty, bought it for them, and watched them eat whilst she was malnourished. But instead of growing thinner, her body expanded.

As the months drew on, Xalia dropped from exhaustion.

“Pregnant”, hissed Orla, viciously. “You are with cubs. And you failed to instruct me?”

As he was about to strike her cheek with his claws, the Lycan King intervened. He stepped between them and raised his haunches in defense of Xalia. Orla backed off in submission. The Lycan King was not one to be messed with.

Xalia whimpered in terror. The Lycan King was firm, powerful, and long-suffering. There were things she knew about him that made her uneasy. Indeed the Lycan King was a secretive werewolf, a manipulative werewolf and if he wanted something his way, he’d ensure it occurred. His Kingdom was one where secrets and dangers were present. Xalia was in the epitome of anguish.

Orla got up in spite and rage and divulged, “You can either be my instrument wherein we are joined forevermore, or you can be dismissed from the pack. It’s your choice.

“I choose to go”, Xalia cried and howled into the night. Her howls were filled with depth of self-pity and hallowed from listlessness and fear for her unborn offspring.

The Lycan King took note of her grief and sprung to her defense.

“Leave her be”, he growled, viciously. “She is mine.”

Xalia stopped howling more out of desperate hunger than surprise, but surprising nonetheless. The journey had been nothing but deep despair and no clarity. Where was Selene when she needed her?

The Lycan King wasn’t a good option for a mate. He had a past and it was hidden and not one Xalia would have anticipated he keep up if he knew what was good for him.

The Lycan King stood up, fur bristling, shaking from the thrill of protecting a mate from those weaker and more foolish than he. He went around snarling and berating the other werewolves in an arc with growls that would make the bird flocks scatter instantly in a flourish of wings.

Xalia looked around in desperation. Bodies flew up in the air as the Lycan King flung werewolves to the left and the right. In the disorder, Xalia made a bolt for it. Heavily pregnant and severely malnourished, she stumbled along, fast, panting, dried saliva dripping from a wide open mouth, the air coming into her mouth in bursts. She stopped going quite a few miles into her amazing effort. She couldn’t believe how despair had spurred her on. Catching her breath and unaware of her surroundings, Xalia caught a sudden whiff of werewolf scent. Moaning, she collapsed into a bush where there she just missed a team of werewolves in a pack. She was unsure whether it was her pack.

It was most likely they were on the lookout for her. She felt the babies kick at her womb. It’s all right my dears, I will deliver you safely, she silently assured them. Her heart was beating at a rapid rate. Dried up drool matted the fur around her face. Hunger pangs came thick and fast. Her breath oozed out in loud pants. But the werewolves were not aware of her presence. Shaking from the exhaustion of the whole journey, Xalia waited until the pack had all passed and then went in the opposite direction. Her knees gave out under her as she preserved onwards towards a future where her precious little cubs would be able to dwell in safer forestlands.

The sun beat down and Xalia began to wind down a few more miles down the track. Beat, winded, and famished, she stalked a deer that came nearby and pounced on him. Ravenously, she ate up everything, consuming even shards of bone. She licked herself with a tongue that was dry and thirsty. She had some strength to move on.