Chapter 5: The Orchard
899 Words
The sun had barely climbed into the sky when Alejandro and Pacer shifted and left. Now, there was a disquiet to the house. It always carried a buzz, a pulse of laughter and movement and sharp voices layered over soft ones. But now, there was a tension threading through the air, quiet and taut like a wire about to snap.
Sofia moved through the main corridor of the house, the hum of conversation pulling her toward her brother's office. But the door was closed. Unusual.
Pill never closed doors unless something important was happening.
She hovered for a moment, listening. She couldn’t hear words—just low murmurs, the kind exchanged when bad news wasn’t dressed for daylight.
She backed away quietly and waited. Roy, Pill’s Beta, walked out moments later, all purpose and movement. Finally, her brother came out alone a few minutes later. He looked… different. His normally collected demeanor was brittle around the edges. And when he spotted her, he didn’t offer the usual smirk or sarcastic comment.
“Something wrong?” she asked, crossing her arms.
Pill hesitated. He studied her—his little sister who had grown up far too quickly, and then nodded toward the back garden.
“Walk with me?”
He used to carry her on his shoulders through this orchard when she was small. Now, he barely looked like the same man. His eyes were older. Sharper. Tired.
She nodded, and they strolled past the courtyard.
The orchard behind the packhouse was quiet. Warm. Citrus trees bent heavy with blossoms, and golden sunlight spilled through the branches.
It looked like something out of a faded memory—perfect and still. Bees moved lazily between blooms. The breeze smelled like earth and sugar. It should’ve made her feel safe.
But something in her chest itched. Like even the land could feel it—that change was coming. That the quiet was just the breath before something broke.
For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Sofia waited. Pill was always slow to start when something was eating at him.
Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and said, “You weren’t wrong to sense it. Something’s coming.”
Sofia stiffened.
“It’s not something small. Tata and Pacer didn’t come just to catch up,” Pill continued. “They didn’t say much at first, but eventually they told us. Something’s moving north. An army.”
She blinked. “Rogues?”
Pill shook his head. “No. They’re organized. Strategic. And fast. They wiped out several southern clans in a single night. All gone.”
Sofia’s breath caught.
“I just got off the phone with some of the Alphas from the southern packs. From what they know, they’re led by someone… someone different. No one knows his name. No one’s seen him and lived to tell the full story. But the pattern is always the same: they raze a pack to the ground and only take the strongest wolves, adding them to their ranks. The rest? Dead.”
Her stomach turned.
“Wait,” she said slowly, “if they’re taking wolves, how do we know they’re not just a power-hungry wolf pack?”
“Because the warriors…” Pill looked at his sister directly before continuing. “They don’t shift like wolves.”
Sofia rubbed her arms. “What do you mean?”
Pill looked away. “Tata said this army shifts like we do. Like Ixchele.”
Sofia stopped walking.
“Ixchele?” she repeated. “That’s not possible. Uncle Metz was supposed to be the last full-blooded one.” Her mother’s brother—the boy who once hid in a woven basket while his world burned—was now a grizzled warrior with sharp eyes and a laugh that disarmed even the most guarded wolves. A full-blooded Ixchele. The last, they’d always said. The proof that the bloodline hadn’t died with the mountain.
“So we thought,” Pill said. “But Tata doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t scare easily. He’s scared now.”
Sofia tried to make sense of it. “So… an entire tribe of Ixchele? Hiding? All this time?”
“Not just hiding,” Pill said. “Thriving, from the sounds of it. Thousands.”
“Thousands? For what?” She stared at him, not fully understanding. Her whole life, her blood had been something singular. Dangerous. Sacred.
Now, there were thousands like her, marching with fire in their lungs.
A part of her stirred—some small root of recognition. The rest of her recoiled.
Pill’s jaw flexed. “That’s what scares me most. We don’t know. But they’re not like Uncle Metz. Metz built bridges. This tribe seems like they’ve come to burn them.”
They stopped beneath a tree heavy with orange blossoms.
“And you think they’re heading here?”
“I don’t think it,” Pill said. “I know it.”
Sofia’s heart thundered.
Pill turned to her. “Dad has spent his life preparing for threats like this. He’s kept our borders protected. He’s made alliances with everyone worth knowing. But now? Now we need all of them. Every clan, every pack. We’re calling them in.”
Sofia’s voice was quiet. “You think it’ll come to war?”
Pill didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
The silence was louder than any war drum.
- Writer
