Free

Chapter Three

After leaving the bonfire, Cyrus led Atarah away from the clearing and back into the woods. After a short walk, she found herself in front of a large cabin. The cabin was grand in design, with wildflowers decorating the outside and ivy crawling up the walls. 

“This is my home,” Cyrus stated with a proud smile, “Do you like it, pup?” 

Atarah found the question odd, but then again the entire evening had been filled with peculiarity so she supposed his unusual conversational skills weren’t too out of place.

“Yes, I do,” Atarah smiled faintly at the flowers, “It is quite beautiful out here, so deep within the wood.” 

“My people value freedom above all. Freedom to roam, to love, to be. Only deep in the wood, far from the taint of mortals, can we obtain this freedom,” Cyrus sighed, as held the door open for her. Atarah nodded her head in thanks and quickly studied her surroundings. All of the floors were completely covered with large furs, providing a nice cushioning for her sore feet. She noticed a fireplace in the front room, near a seating area, and tentatively approached it. 

“Please take a seat,” Cyrus followed her, “Are you cold? Shall I light the fire?”

“No,” Atarah gave a polite smile, “I’m alright. Answers are all I need, at the moment.”

“I will answer all your questions in full, after you answer mine,” after hearing Atarah’s scoff, Cyrus quickly added, “You are a trespasser in my land, a land in which I do not have many mortal trespassers. I need to ensure the safety of my people.”

“I understand,” Atarh nodded after several moments, “My name is Atarah and I come from Erwin’s Village near East Creek. I was not aware of your people, and I apologize for my trespassing. I am merely passing through.”

“Passing through the Dark Forest?” Cyrus studied her every feature, “Why are you here, little one?”

Atarah was silent for several moments, contemplating whether or not to be truthful. She was not normally one to trust easily, but something, deep inside her, told her she could trust the man in front of her. 

“I am of seventeen winters, Alpha-Chief. In my village, women of eighteen are expected- no, forced to wed,” Atarah stated, as she awkwardly fiddled with her hands. 

“You ran from your village because you were scared of marriage?” Cyrus looked at her curiously. 

“I am not afraid of marriage, Alpha,” Atarah looked down at her shoes, suddenly realizing she had unintentionally brought mud into his home, “There was a man in my village. . . he wasn’t a good man. He was to wed me. And.  . . well, he. . . wasn’t a good man.”

“I see,” Cyrus looked at her in admiration and pity, “I am sorry, pup. That took bravery for you to flee, and to make such a treacherous journey in the night.”

Atarah merely nodded in thanks, still refusing to meet his eyes. 

“What exactly was your plan?” Cyrus raised a brow, “Where were you running to, little one?”

“Well. . .” Atarah paused, she knew how ridiculous it sounded when she said it aloud, “I was told of a place I could find refuge, beyond the wood. A place where all sorts of females could find refuge.”

“Ahhh,” His eyes light up with recognition, “You were seeking the Queen’s Paradise.”

“Yes!” Atarah looked up quickly, meeting his gaze, “You know of it? Is it far from here?”

“I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, little pup, but this place doesn’t exist outside of fairytales,” He looked at her with pity, “It was a tale hunters spun to lure women into their traps. A tale meant to manipulate young girls into fleeing their homes, much like you did.” 

Atarah was a woman who prided herself on not showing her vulnerable side in front of others, especially men; however, she was past her breaking point. Tears gathered in her eyes, as she realized she truly had nowhere to run to now. She heard an almost animalistic sound come from where Cyrus was sitting, as soon as the tears began to fall down her cheeks. 

“Pup, look at me,” Cyrus grasped her hand, much to her surprise, “While your paradise does not exist, you may find that safety here, within my pack. You can stay here, with my people, as long as you like. Where you will not be forced to marry any man whom you do not love and respect. Nor will you be expected to work your youth away in the sun or blister your fingers with the hot stove. You can stay here and be free.”

“Why?” Atarah’s eyes widened, “That is a very generous offer, Alpha, but such generosity, in this world, is often met with great sacrifice in exchange. What do you want from me?” 

“I-” Cyrus seemed to be struggling with himself and what he was planning to tell the lady before him, “Your story moved me, and the fire you’ve shown, tonight, has inspired me. You seem to a good woman, a woman I would hate for misfortune to befall upon.”

“Then why, by the fire, did you refer to me as yours?” Atarah’s eyes narrowed in a suspicious manner, “I have not forgotten your barbaric claim.”

“I apologize for my earlier behavior, pup, but it is not often we get guests and I forgot the manners of outsiders,” he seemed to be struggling with his words again, “I do want you, that was truthful. In my culture. . . when a man sees a woman he wishes to- as your people say- court, he claims her as to state to others that someone has taken his attention.” 

“Are you trying to tell me that you wish to court me?” Atarah asked in disbelief, “after only several moments of knowing me.”

“Yes,” Cyrus blushed slightly, but enough for her to notice, “Once again, I apologize for the misunderstanding and cultural differences. I do wish to court you, but I expect nothing of the sort in exchange for you staying.” 

“I see,” Atarah faintly smiled. She had to admit that she wasn’t completely convinced of the man’s intentions, but his reasoning seemed valid and her gut told her he was worthy of her trust, “I have some questions that need to be answered before I decide whether I wish to make my stay longer.”

“Of course.” Cyrus perked up in excitement, he seemed extremely happy in the prospect of her potential stay.

“Your people. . .” Atarah stopped, what exactly did she want to know. True the people she’s met have been vastly different from her village, but she supposed having a different culture then her wasn’t a crime. “The wolves. Are they your pets? Two led me here, from the river, and seemed. . .  well, they seemed intelligent. Like they knew what I was saying.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Cyrus’s eyes danced with amusement.

“How did you train them?”  Atarah asked with bright eyes, filled with curiosity, “It must have taken decades to fully domesticate these wolves.”

“The training was not easy, but we do not see them as pets here. They are members of our pack. Our tribe.” Cyrus leaned back in his chair, “You seem very interested in these wolves. Out of all the questions to ask me.”

“Wolves are wild creatures at heart. They cannot be tamed, merely persuaded to behave.” Atarah looked away from the man and towards the empty fireplace, “When I was a young girl, I dreamed of having a pet wolf.”

Cyrus let out a loud laugh at this, “Well, I suppose dreams can come true.”

“Are you jesting?” Atarah rolled her eyes, “While you may have a. . . friendship with these wolves, I still doubt the possibility of full domestication. My dream of having a wolf spend every moment by my side in such a subservient manner is just that, a dream.”

“I’m sure we can find a wolf to be by your side,” Cyrus smirked, “However, I’m not sure he will be very submissive.”

Atarah stared at him questioningly for a few long moments, but when it appeared he was not going to provide any clarity to his statement, she moved on. 

“Why does your tribe refer to you as Alpha?” Atarah looked around the cabin, “And how does your tribe survive so far in the woods? The Dark Forest, as you stated, is not an easy place to live, much less travel through.”

“As you know, my tribe, or pack, is deeply connected to wolves. We even mimic the power structure of a wolf pack,” Cyrus explained, “We are a fairly self-sustainable village. We are close to some creeks and the soil is fertile for farming. We don’t really interact with any other villages, but we do occasionally make trades for fabrics or jewels.”

“I see,” Atarah nodded, after several moments of silence, “My last question, of the moment, is that if I was to stay here, would you ensure me that I will be safe and my honor guarded. To stay here, after only several moments of knowing you, would be a risk, so you can understand why I cannot just take your pretty words as a promise.”

“I-” Cyrus’s eyes shined in admiration and frustration, “I don’t really know what to tell you. You have my dagger and you have my word. I swear to you, on everything that I hold sacred, that I will never allow you to come in harms’ way. You will be safe in my care.” 

“Well,” Atarah blushed, “I suppose I can sleep on it, and decide in the morning.” 

“Good idea, pup,” Cyrus smiled in response.