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Chapter Two

As Atarah stumbled across another tree limb, she couldn’t help but curse at the wolves who surrounded her. The two wolves seemed to forget that Atarah didn’t have the same dark vision as they did, nor did she have the same agileness that allowed them to jump over fallen trunks or large rocks with such ease. However, Atarah was quite athletic for a female human, as she used to sneak out of her uncle’s home to climb trees in the forest or run with her friends through the meadows. She would normally have not found much difficulty in the trek, but the darkness hindered her movements and the anxiety caused by the beasts was suffocating. 

Suddenly, Atarah could hear a faint beating, soft but strong. At first, she believed it to be her own heart until she realized the beat got louder the further her and the wolves traveled. As time passed, and the sound grew stronger, Atarah could see a light in the distance. 

“Where are you taking me?” she wondered aloud, only to have the smaller wolf growl at her for her sudden breach of the silence. 

Atarah quited, still fearful of the creatures guiding her to the light. As they grew closer, she came to realize that the light was a large bonfire, placed in the middle of a clearing. Her face lit up with hope when she realized that people may be nearby, people who could help her escape from these unusual wolves. 

As she and the wolves approached the clearing, she could make out figures dancing around the fire. Women dancing in ways that were sure to land them a husband, and men standing idly by with lust in their eyes and drums beating in their hands.

As she in the wolves drew close, the drums and the dancing suddenly stopped. All eyes turned to her. At first, Atarah believed these people would save her, but as she looks around the clearing she notices that other wolves mingle with the crowd. It appeared as though the village was one with the pack, perhaps they have domesticated the creatures. Were these wolves trained to fetch any intruders, on their land?

The large wolf, to her side, bit her dress’s hem again, and led her around the massive crowd. As they turned around the bonfire, she saw, for the first time, what appeared to be some sort of wooden throne. Seated on the throne was a man straight out her most delectable dreams and her deadliest nightmares. He had hair nearly as long as her, but it was pulled back from his face in braids and random straps of cloth. He was a muscular being, far larger then any warrior from her village. His face was angular and he had a long scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his cupid’s bow. In short, he was beautiful. 

The wolves shoved Atarah in front of the throne, and her eyes immediately fell to the ground, not wishing to disrespect the handsome chief before her. After several moments she could hear what sounded like cranking, as if  branches were being broken again and again.

“Alpha, we found this mortal in the forests, near the Clear Creek,” a voice behind her stated. Atarah jumped, and quickly looked behind her. Where the wolves once stood, now was a large blonde haired man and a woman who looked even younger than Atarah. The blonde man was looking towards the throne, “It is not often mortals are found this deep in the woods, and a female at that.”

“So you decided to bring her to me,” a dark voice called from the throne, Atarah spun around to look at him, only now noticing how his eyes seemed to stare through her. His eyes were a golden color, perhaps from the fire reflecting upon them. 

“I apologize if my actions appear hasty, Alpha,” The blonde man took a knee, “But her scent called to me, and not in the way that alluded to mateship. I suspected-”

“You suspected right,” the beautiful man smiled at Atarah, “The female is mine.” 

Suddenly there was a loud howl from the wolves in the crowd, and people near them began to dance and beat their drums even louder. The women laughed and chanted, praising the moon above them. Some of the men even set aside their drums and joined in the dancing, each grabbing a hold of the nearest woman to join them in the festivities. 

“So it is true,” the blonde man laughs, “The alpha finds love, at last!”

“So it is true, brother,” the man they called alpha laughed. He quickly stood from his throne and began walking to Atarah. Once he reached her, he circled around her with a sort of dark smile on his face, “The moon goddess has blessed me, indeed. I have never seen such beauty, and on a mortal female at that.”

The man stopped in front of her face, eyes scanning every detail. He looked at her in a manner that sent chills up her spine. 

“What is your name, female?” he smiled, his hand going to caress her check.

Before his hand could make contact with her face, Atarah quickly caught it by his wrist, “My name is Atarah.”

“Atarah,” his eyes twinkled with amusement, as he looked at his wrist firmly clasped in her hand, “Why do you deny my touch, sweet Atarah?” 

“Why do you wish to touch me?” Atarah raised her eyebrow in challenge, “I do not know you, and you do not know me.”

“You are my female,” the man smiled, lifting the hand she grasped his wrist with, to his lips, “You already know me, for I am you and you are I.” 

“Excuse me!” Atarah stepped backwards, causing the man to let out a sound that sounded eerily like a wolf’s growl, “I have yet to know your name, but you are attempting to claim me as yours. And claiming not in the manner of a bride to groom, but in the manner as a beast claims their meal. I am not something to be owned.” 

“Cyrus,” his eyes, once again, filled with amusement at her declaration, “I am called Alpha Cyrus, you may call me Cyrus.”

“I will do no such thing,” she rolled her eyes, “To call you simply ‘Cyrus’ and ignore the title of Alpha, how peculiar it may be, would be to show an intimacy between us. An intimacy, dear Alpha, we do not share.”

“I have yet to bring you to my chamber and you already speak of intimacy,” he lets out a deep chuckle, “You are a feisty pup, indeed.”

“Pup? Are you referring to me as a young dog?” Atarah eyes lit up with anger, “I have been kidn*pped by your pet wolves, brought before some sort of savage ritual in the dark of the night, and now you, a chief who prefers the title Alpha, are referring to me as a dog.”

“Is it possible to already love you?” Cyrus stepped forward, placing a wayward piece of her hair behind her ears, “I never knew perfection to exist until this night. All of the softness of a female, all the weakness of a mortal, and yet all the fire of my fellow wolves.” 

“You call me a mortal as though you are not one youself?” Atarah looked around them, noticing that no one seemed to be paying much attention, each of them caught up with their own festivities. 

“Clever one you are,” Cyrus smirked, “Is there something you are not capable of, my pup?”

“Patience,” Atarah eyes narrowed, “I have questions and I demand answers.”

“Then you shall come with me,” Cyrus presented his upturned hand, “Follow me, and I shall provide you with a bed to rest your head, a meal to quell your hunger with, and answers to all your questions.”

“You are a strange man that I have been forced to make acquaintance with, in the middle of the Dark Forest, who insists that I belong to him,” Atarah smirked, “And you wish for me to follow you, willingly, to your home?”

“I suppose that is one way to look at it,” Cyrus laughed as he grasped Atarah hand in a soft, yet forceful manner, “But I see it as you are trespasser who finds yourself in my region, and you were lucky enough for the Alpha to take pity on you and offer you shelter for the night.”

“I suppose that is also true,” Atarah faintly smiled, “But what guarantees this Alpha from taking advantage of this trespasser, because, as you’ve stated, I’m merely a mortal woman.”

“You question my honor?” Cyrus, for the first time, seemed genuinely angry and taken back. 

“Are you a man?” Atarah laughed darkly, causing Cyrus to pause for a moment. 

Cyrus suddenly pulled a dagger from his dark robe, and placed it within Atarah’s palm. With her questioning gaze, he looked her deep into her emerald eyes and promised, “You are my pup and mine alone. If I ever shed your blood or bring shame to your name, send this dagger straight through my heart.”

Atarah nodded, and calmly placed the dagger in one of the many pockets of her work-dress, suddenly feeling slightly more confident. Once she looked back towards Cyris, she nodded, and he took her hand and led her deeper into the woods.