The Warrior King's Mate

Chapter 11

After the night where I somehow shared a flashback with Malcolm, things moved very quickly. Malcolm explained to me two things; firstly – that, as a member of an Alpha family, the natural order of things had been illegally disrupted, and that my mother, Alpha Lawrence and Luna Jane knowingly committed a crime, making me a slave, as slaves were illegal (he also explained that omegas are employees and as such receive wages, holidays and days off of work. When he said that, my head nearly exploded from the shock. Secondly, child abusers were punished by the strictest laws in our kingdom, meaning Logan would never be allowed to be Alpha if he were convicted by the crown, and Alpha Lawrence would be stripped of his title as well.

“So,” he explained to me in his office, “we really need to get a statement from you to send to the inquisition squad. Dad’s furious and has told them if they don’t do something then he will reroute all of River Moon’s warriors to wage war on Silver Shore – he’d be sanctioned for going against the King. He already wants to end our trade deals with Silver Shore, he's beyond furious. But, furthermore,” he reached over the desk towards my hand, and I used everything I had in me not to flinch away, “Doctor Henderson said it would be a very important step towards recovery for you.”

Doctor Henderson had, of course, been informed of what happened a week ago and, like any good doctor, he sat everyone round to create a ‘care plan’ for me, which I was already despising. The first thing on the plan was to get me out of my room outside of sleeping hours, hence my sitting in Malcolm’s office. It was a nice room, with a large window overlooking the glass building that seemed to serve as a sort of resort. Having watched the people of River Moon coming and going from this vantage point the last few days, Malcolm explained the reason it was so busy was due to a development project from a few years ago. The pack was large, and it allowed members to enjoy a mix of urban and suburban living – the packhouse was an old building and, in order to encourage all members of the pack to use shared facilities, they decided that creating a space alongside the packhouse made families from further out in the territory feel less intimidated by the old mansion house. The Dome was built by werewolf architects here in River Moon and housed a cinema, a mall, a creche, offices, the pack hospital as well as several shops and cafes. There was also access to the incredibly impressive gyms and training grounds, a large meeting hall for pack business and an Olympic sized swimming pool, which I nodded enthusiastically at, despite not knowing what that meant.

The next step of the care plan was to speak to a therapist about what had happened, and this said therapist infuriatingly said in Malcolm’s ear shot (he hadn’t left my side much in the last week) that getting justice would help me come to terms with the abuse and begin to move on. I had laughed openly at this. There was no moving on. But Malcolm seemed to think without my help there was no way to stop Alpha John from waging a pack war, so…

“I have a surprise for you, to get you out of that head of yours,” Malcolm nodded over at me. I’ve obviously been lost in a train of thought again. He had been trying to come up with lots of things to try and help me ‘settle in’ here and – despite me explaining that I’ve never felt settled in my life – he was determined to make River Moon my home, and so for the last two days he’s been taking me on small excursions in his car around the pack. Yesterday was better than the day before, where I became totally exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of people and things to see, even on the way to the car – a big white 4x4 thing with lights and gadgets. I had watched Malcolm expertly shift gears, turn the wheel and drive with an easy kind of confidence I envied – but none of it could keep the motion sickness at bay, cutting my first trip short due to the number of times I needed him to pull over to let me vomit. He laughed when he reminded me I’d taken two busses and a ferry to get here. How did I not know about motion sickness and I grumpily shot back that there was nothing to throw up then, so he should stop insisting on feeding me a banquet every morning. Because, of course, another phase of the care plan included getting me to eat a more nutritional diet, so I had been introduced to Nancy, the packhouse cook, a plump little grey-haired woman with a sugary voice – Nancy had asked what my favourite foods were, and I had told her the list of things I had tried. If the sparse list bothered her, she didn’t show it, instead suggesting we start simply by trying out a few fruits and vegetables each day, a protein, and some high-calorie snacks. I told her I had fried fish once and, delighted, she added it to the packhouse menu – tonight, after Malcolm’s excursion, or ‘surprise’, I’d be served up a massive portion of fish and chips, with some strawberry milkshake and maybe some cake that Nancy seemed to think I would like. I was actually looking forward to it.

“Surprise?” I asked cautiously. For all the effort Malcolm and the rest had put in this week to show me that River Moon was nothing like Silver Shore, I still had fully formed day dreams about running away. But Rome wasn’t built in a day – or a week, I guess.

“Surprise.” Malcolm closed the laptop he was working on and rose from the large chair at his desk, grabbing his keys and his phone, indicating that it was time to go. “You remember Amy? The girl who gave you the map? Well, she’s been like a demented budgie trying to see you to make sure you’re alright. She keeps suggesting the two of you go for coffee and hit the mall for some shops. I figured that might be a lot for one day – but there is one store in the mall that has its own café inside. I figured you could try looking at clothes and see if you find anything you like, and Amy can help?”

Absolutely not, came the voice in my head.

Seeing my blank expression, Malcolm smiled handsomely and said “ Don’t worry, I’ll be there the whole time and it’s my treat. If you see a million things you like, I’ll get them, but I’d like you to try and find at least one thing that you think is well…you.”

Me.

This has been a big discussion topic lately. Everyone wanted to learn all about me. The therapist Dr Henderson recommended told me that being abused by the entire pack meant I never learned my own identity – I was in survival mode so long that a lot of my development might have been damaged and I might find that certain things would be harder for me than a typical person, and that by learning things about myself and discovering my likes and dislikes, I’d start to recover a little bit. And so all week there’s been endless questions like “do you like the red apples, or the green apples more?” “ Do you like your bath warm, or cooler?” “ Do you like this or that?” all week. Clothes, I have learned, led to a lot of these questions doubling up – short or long sleeves, boots or sneakers, jeans or leggings, long socks, knitted socks, training socks, fluffy socks? And don’t even get me started on cuts of jeans, necks of t-shirts, colours, shapes, patterns…. I didn’t think this was a good idea.

“Hey, Nova, relax,” urged Malcolm, walking slowly over to me. “It’s a small store, you can be there for as long as you like, there is no rush – but also no obligation to stay. I already had a look at the menu in the café and ordered us things ahead of time to try – you just pick at what you think you like the look of and give it a taste. Small bites, small store, small victories!”

I hated how much time he was putting into me. I wasn’t completely self-absorbed. I could tell there was more happening, things stressing people out other than having to babysit me. There were people whispering in the corridors of the packhouse all the time, and, having spent a lot of time since I got here looking out of windows, more people arrived in River Moon every day, while at the same time, people were constantly leaving via large coaches that kept arriving. Amy had mentioned the selection – but I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. No one at Silver Shore had talked about it. Maybe it was only something bigger packs did? But then, the omegas were whispering as Malcolm and I made our way to his office this morning about the selection having been cancelled, and they seemed really worried about patrols. Silver Shore ran patrols too. A small group of trained wolves would station themselves around the pack boundaries, walking in a formation to make sure the pack was safe. They did it in shifts, day and night. So, did the selection have something to do with patrols? It wasn't just the omegas - Malcolm and his mother were quite tense around each other whenever we were in the same room. Luna Margot seemed to be watching her son carefully, with an ever-worried twinkle in her eye, while Malcolm seemed apprehensive. I didn’t feel it was my place to ask, so I just followed behind Malcolm as he made more and more plans to ‘help’ me.

I had a brief pique of hope when the therapist suggested my development might have been delayed due to being so scared and undernourished all the time – to me it was a reasonable suggestion that my wolf was maybe in here somewhere, just very, very tired. I had vowed to do anything, to follow the stupid care plan, to eat whatever and do whatever I was told to, in the hopes that I’d get to finally meet my wolf. And changes had started to happen - my hair, once properly washed, cut and styled (courtesy of Luna Margot and Moira’s personal stylist team – THAT had been an experience) wasn’t the dull dark brown I always thought it was – instead it was a warm cinnamon colour, which the hairdresser had accented by adding some subtle copper and gold highlights. Now, instead of a block of matted mess, my hair caught the sun and flowed lightly in the soft autumn breeze. Still unsure of how to tie it back in to anything other than a ponytail, I thought it looked better than ever. It made gold flecks in my brown eyes appear, and made my skin look fairer than before. My skin itself looked much better too – having a bathroom filled with different oils, soaps, creams, cleansers, moisturisers and tonics meant that in just a few short days, Moira had finally cleared through a lifetime of dry, sore skin. It even felt nicer to run my fingers over, and the appearance of my scars much less mottled, purple, and angry looking. Even the weeks’ worth of food had done something to improve my appearance – though still very thin, my face looked less sunken and hollow than it had on the ferry here. I was less dizzy, less shaky, and even noticed it was less painful to sit or lie down on anything firm as my bones felt less sharp and exposed. Even as I sat in the small café on the first floor of the store with Malcolm, I felt I sat up straighter, despite the fact I felt very exposed and nervous facing the door, waiting for the bubbly girl from the ferry terminal.

She arrived five minutes after we did, wearing a plaid shirt tight around her waist, some lacy white shorts and a cropped dark blue t-shirt, exposing her tanned stomach and pierced navel. She had pushed some pink, love-heart shaped sunglasses atop of her head as she entered the café, spotting us easily and smiling widely at us, practically skipping our way. Amy was like no one I’d ever met before, not even Anna.

I’d met Anna in my senior year at high school – she had transferred after her parents were killed by rogues and she came to Silver Shore to live with her aunt. Anna was funny and didn’t like to leave anyone out, which is why she ended up sitting with me in class one day. She was popular, so much so that no one wanted to alienate her by picking on me so openly, but after a few days she had sussed out what was going on. She started meeting me in private, first thing in the morning as I escaped the crawl space to run – we would laugh at all the stupid things that happened at school, avoiding topics like the bruises that appeared on me throughout the week. She would talk to me easily, and even once or twice encouraged me to speak to her aunt about the things kids said. She said it wasn’t right…she was actually the one who helped me plan out how to leave; it was a game - we’d report back to each other on our morning run where the patrol team would be, what spots were empty and when, how many minutes it took to run to and from the packhouse without being seen…

When Anna met her mate at a ball in a neighbouring pack, she promised she would come back and get me as soon as she could, but a year later and I was still there, using her running shoes…

“Hi! Girl, you look so different!” Amy plonked herself down into the empty seat opposite Malcolm and I noticed her give him a coy, flirtatious smile, even though I knew she was mated. “Like, look at that hair, it’s gorge!” She leaned over the table suddenly to run her fingers through my long ponytail draping over my shoulder. Instinctively, I pushed myself back, my chair scraping loudly on the stone floor. Embarrassed, I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was mad about the noise.

“s**t, sorry! Personal space,” Amy nodded to herself, as if reminding herself not to be so bold. I felt really bad for making her uncomfortable.

“And – while I’m on the ‘s**t, I’m sorry’ train, I honestly had NO idea about the rogues in the woods, Nova,” Amy looked me directly in the eye, her arm still draped on the table towards me. “I told you; I’ve never left my pack before and I – if I’d just insisted Joe drive you with the rest of us, that would never have happened to you, and I promise I really am so sorry! I was hoping – if your gorgeous cousin will let me - ” she smirked back at Malcolm, “that I could come see you at the packhouse some time? I want us to be friends!” She seemed really sincere in her apology, but something about the way she kept looking at Malcolm made me think the offer of friendship wasn’t entirely for my benefit. Malcolm seemed to notice this too, as he cleared his throat and said “gonna check on our order…” and hastily left the table.

“So – tell me – where have they been hiding you?! The second I’d heard you were found, I dragged Joe away from the training grounds to come and see you, but they had said no visitors!” Amy wasted no time in diving straight in. “I mean, obviously I’d noticed you weren’t exactly well at Wilsontown but - ”

“Wilsontown?” I asked, confused, and honestly a little taken aback by my own interruption.

“Yeah, the human town where the ferry terminal is – cause like, babes you were P.A.L.E, PALE! And – no offense – you look so much better now, you look like you’re meant to be pale, got that whole dark academia vibe working for you!”

“I’ve got what?” I asked, and to my surprise, I was laughing. Amy’s bubbly nature, the way she moved about like she was just about to break out into dance, and her cheeky smile were all very contagious, and it had been so long since anyone sat opposite me with the intention of having a fun conversation.

“I’ll show you hang on,” Amy said, pulling a phone from her pocket and lighting up the screen by just tapping her finger. She showed me a bunch of photos that reminded me of libraries and dark winter nights. I sort of understood what she meant, with my dark hair and dark grey, oversized sweatshirt and black leggings, but I wasn’t sure what she meant by vibe. She started showing me some clothes that matched it and they looked very different to the things I had seen on anyone at home, which I liked, but I also struggled to picture myself wearing skirts after a lifetime in leggings.

“I – I don’t think t-that’s for me,” I quietly apologised, pointing at a long brown skirt as Amy flicked through more pictures.

“Oh, no? Girl no problem, we have all the time and shops in the world to find something you like better!”

“Better than what?” Malcolm asked, carrying a tray of glass mugs with silky hot chocolate inside. In spite of myself, I inhaled deeply. I’d always wanted to try hot chocolate, but the memory of being tied outside and beaten with sticks came flooding to the fore, making my stomach quench painfully. Malcolm seemed to notice and, without batting an eyelid, placed the tray on the far side of the table and said “I’ll be back with the teas! But first, better than what?” He seemed genuinely interested, so I pointed to Amy’s phone.

“Amy thinks I have a – a vibe? She showed me a skirt. I don’t think it’s – well I haven’t been allowed – I mean I’m more used to l-leggings and stuff, but -”

“But we said we’d find something better than the skirt,” Amy interjected, noticing my growing embarrassment at be talking to my cousin about clothes. Malcolm, on the other hand, looked bizarrely overjoyed and smiled wildly, even mocked punching (very gently and slowly) my shoulder and said “atta girl, knew shopping was a good idea!” and he rushed back to the counter for another two trays waiting for us.

I sipped a little of the various teas he had bought, and even tried a sip of Amy’s iced coffee, which was disgustingly sweet. She laughed as I hastily handed it back to her and said, “apparently pumpkin spice lattes are not for everyone!” Malcolm said he didn’t like them either, but people go crazy over them this time of year. The teas were better, peppermint was my favourite – I cupped the mug in my hands for ages just sniffing it, it felt so refreshing but at the same time comforting and cosy. Malcolm also ordered what looked like one of every pastry in the place – Amy was delighted and kept gently touching Malcolm’s forearm, calling him a legend. While Amy talked about herself and her mate Joe, I picked and poked at the pastries, tasting bits and pieces until I found two I liked – a giant pain au chocolat and a white sponge that tasted sweet and nutty at the same time, which Malcolm told me was his favourite too - an orange and almond loaf cake. I ate the entire slice and finished the entire mug of peppermint tea.

Amy was a gamma’s daughter in her pack and had met Joe while travelling with her older sisters to some of the bigger packs in the kingdom. Joe was apparently from somewhere called White Fang in the south. His older brother was just about to take over as Alpha there and Joe was about to be promoted to head warrior until the King was killed.

“The – The KING?!” I asked, my head swivelling back and forth between her and Malcolm. He looked a bit sheepish before nodding.

“We wanted you to focus on getting back on your feet but yes, that’s something that has been…happening,” Malcom said, replacing his empty cup back on to its saucer and turning in his chair to face me. “King Harold was killed, possibly by someone from Crimson Kingdom – before this happened his son, King Fallon had ordered the best of all packs warriors to come to designated packs to be selected for military training, so we knew something was brewing. River Moon was selected to house the warriors from smaller surrounding packs and the King himself was travelling to these territories with his second and third in command to personally hand pick his army – but last week, that all changed. King Fallon has decreed every able-bodied warrior be moved to the capital to be trained and deployed.”

I thought about the coaches coming and going from the packhouse every day. Then I thought of the way the omegas seemed worried about patrols and rogues and, remembering the putrid smell vividly, my heart jumped.

“B-but the packs! They- wo-wont they be – will they be s-safe?” I asked, speaking quietly as I wasn’t sure how pack business outside of the chores really worked. Malcolm nodded; his lips set in a thin line.

“They’ll be safe if they all work together, yes…”

“They?” Amy asked, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow disappearing into her fringe. “That doesn’t sound like someone about to hold down the fort as Alpha, that sounds like someone who’s bags are already packed?”

My head snapped to look at my cousin so quickly that I felt my bones c***k. He looked at me, his face unreadable. He hadn’t left my side this entire week, even when our grandmother helped me in the bathroom, or the omegas helped me with my hair and clothes.

He was leaving.

He was the only one who I had talked to about what had happened and Silver Shore, he was supposed to be helping me write a statement for the council and he was leaving?!

“When?” I asked him, my voice trembling.

“Halloween,” he replied, softly.

We didn’t remove our gaze from the other as Amy filled in the silence, dismantling the rumour mill about King Fallon. “I mean, apparently, he’s absolutely ruthless, all work and no play. My cousin, she lives in the capital as an office worker and you know, she can see Selinis Castle from her apartment. She says the old King was out all the time, on rides, on trips and that King Fallon is just, like, working. The twice she’s seen him in person she said he didn’t even smile. Built out of granite though, imagine that body, ah! I bet his abs have abs. If that’s what you’re into I suppose, I mean we all know he's gorgeous but goddess, how serious he looks in literally every picture I’ve seen of him….”

She prattled on about the king and how she heard he wasn’t mated yet, then listing off the names of people who might be a chosen mate for him, one of whom seemed to be a fourteen-year-old girl from a tiny northern kingdom called Princess Sophie. She then steered me robotically through the aisles and aisles of clothes, picking out things that she thought would complement my pale skin, my dark eyes, my height. She even picked up a few things for herself while talking the entire time. I was only half listening, thinking about how the hell I’d survive here without Malcolm. The people I’d met had all been really nice, and while they all said they wanted to help me, Malcolm was the only one who knew how bad it really was. He’d even seen what had happened in the shower room. He had seen how bad and horrible I was. Now, instead of taking his title of Alpha, he was choosing to leave in three days to go and fight in a war.

Before I knew where I was, Amy had me in a changing room and was hanging up a wardrobefull of clothes, a thick velvet curtain hiding us from the rest of the store, the further three walls of the small room taken up entirely with mirrors. My heart sunk. Seeing my frail body from these many angles was shocking. My legs didn’t meet in the middle the way most women’s do. The leggings I thought fitted me when I slid them on this morning were saggy and loose where my bottom should be, and too loose around my bony knees which jutted out awkwardly from the thinness of my leg. The top I wore was comfortable but now I could see it hung strangely around the shoulders and the sleeves had much too much fabric, making it bunch and crush. I felt the hot prickle behind my eyes that told me tears were coming, and Amy noticed it too.

“Hey! Hey, come here!” she pulled me in to a one-armed hug and turned me to face the mirror. “You’re a gorgeous girl, Nova, look at your gorgeous face! We just need to find clothes that fit better okay!” She offered me the sleeve of her plaid shirt as a tissue, and I managed a weak smile. “Now, look at these,” she held up a pair of brown trousers with a crease in the middle of the legs, reminding me of the sort of clothes the librarian at school might wear. “These flow out from the waist and give you a bit of shape on the bottom, just until you fill out. And then this,” she pulled out a soft looking, moss green jumper with three quarter length sleeves. “This will really make your hair and skin look divine but also goes really well with the pants, and see the crew neck? Totally gorge. So why don’t we try those and maybe…yeah try this! Okay so these are mom jeans, they’re really high waisted so you’re going to need a belt but like, okay just imagine these with this really cute blouse thing…”

Amy left while I tried on the three outfits she’d made up for me. Her taste was different from my grandmother's and while Moira had style, Amy had flair. Every outfit she picked for me totally changed the way I looked. While one made me look a bit fuller, another one created curves I didn’t actually have, and the third actually made me smile. Each time I had put myself in the clothes, Amy dramatically whipped the curtain open with a ‘ta-da!’ for her and Malcolm to applaud the outfit. Even one of the other shoppers gave me an appreciative nod to outfit number two, but the third was by far my favourite, soft dark denim jeans that pinched in at my waist and then hung loose around my legs so no one could see my knobbly knees, and a silky floral blouse underneath a stone-coloured soft knitted jumper. Amy paired the ensemble with comfortable chunky boots and finished it off with a gold necklace with a crescent moon pendant. I suddenly looked like a person, and I looked like a person who mattered. I had realised during the therapy sessions that I was in fact from an alpha bloodline on my mother’s side, and now I looked like I belonged there. I might not feel it yet, but perhaps shopping hadn’t been a horrible idea after all.

I looked up at Malcolm and he was smiling at me, small tears in his eyes as he watched Amy fuss over me and pull at the material here and there, like a little monkey grooming another. He nodded at me and turned to the shop assistant and handed her his credit card. I was able to wear the outfit home and Malcolm carried the bags containing the other two outfits. He then asked if I’d like to go shopping with Amy again, which, after some consideration, I nodded sadly, realising today was more about finding someone to replace him as my confidante.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For everything.”

He gave me a lopsided grin as the elevator arrived at our floor of the packhouse, and as I walked behind him towards the bedroom I was sleeping in, the plan to run away once again blossomed in my mind. Still without a wolf and now without Malcolm – and the pack without its patrols – perhaps the time to leave and start a new life really was now.