Fighting Free

Ch. 3: The Rare Sapphire

Metztli’s eyes blinked open to see a small, ebony haired four year old breathing quietly in his face.

“Uncle Messy, I’m hungwee,” the little girl whispered. He sat up, rubbing his face and trying to shake the sleep off.

“OK, Nayeli.” He looked around the darkened room, getting his bearings. “What time is it?”

“I dunno. I’m f-oh,” she said, mispronouncing four. Little Nayeli climbed up next to Metztli, wrapped up in a cream colored blanket.

“Right,” Metztli nodded and looked around again. Just as he was about to stand up, Eliza’s door swung open and she stepped out in a cotton robe.

“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re up, Metztli,” she said brightly. “I just got the itinerary for the next few days about an hour ago. It seems like we have a brunch at eleven then I have meetings with the Lunas from three different packs.” Eliza, with her phone in hand, walked over to the front door and opened it. In streamed lovely Moon pack females holding clothes bags, boxes, and small luggage. Metztli recognized the woman leading the others as Hailey, Eliza’s personal assistant, and someone he had warm his bed quite a few times. “Set up everything in the bedroom, ladies. Hailey,” Eliza called out, “can you please bring me the package I have for Metztli?”

“Mommy,” Nayeli stood up on the couch and leaned over the back, “I’m hungwee.” At the sight of the small, demanding girl, Eliza’s expression melted to sweet honey.

“Ok, baby,” Eliza smiled as she began to walk over to the small kitchenette near the front door. As she opened cabinet doors, Hailey came out the bedroom holding a parcel wrapped in paper and sauntered over to Metztli. She gave him a heated look as she passed the package to him, her hand brushing his fingers gently. Her gaze stayed a second too long on his lips to not be understood as an invitation for something heated and passionate.

Metztli flashed her a kind smile, but thought nothing more about Hailey and turned to his sister. “What’s this,” he asked and Hailey slinked back into Eliza's bedroom with her eyes to the ground.

“Sooo,” Eliza started as she poured some cereal in a bowl, “remember a while back when I asked you about Ixchele clothing?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there was a reason for that.” She placed the bowl of cereal on the breakfast bar in front of her and walked around to pick up Nayeli. She continued once she placed the four year old at a seat in front of the cereal bowl, “I had one made.”

“One what,” he asked incredulously.

“An Ixchele warrior's regalia.” She bit her bottom lip as she waited for his reaction.

Metztli looked at the brown paper and his brows furrowed. He remembered the conversation with Eliza. She had asked question after question and he was only able to picture his father’s regalia when he talked about a warrior’s outfit. So, that’s what he described to her. The white linen breechcloth, the red cloth belt, the shin armor decorated with feathers and turquoise stone, the leather sandals with colorful tassels, the woven black and grey cape, the elaborate gold and turquoise necklace, the feathered headgear, he had described it to her in exacting detail.

He slowly opened the parcel and stilled as he began to reveal, in his hands, the exact same regalia he saw his father wear. The same regalia that haunted his many dreams.

“I hope it’s OK,” she nervously added.

“Uh, yeah,” Metztli finally said after he was able to steel himself for a moment. “I.. haven’t seen one of these in so long. I’m taken by surprise.” He slowly pulled each piece out of the package and began laying them out on the couch in their respective place. The headdress atop, the breechcloth towards the bottom, the sandals on the floor. He looked over to his sister. She was still biting her lip. “Why… Why did you do this,” he asked, unsure how to take the gift.

She took a deep breathe before she answered. “So, when I asked you, I was planning on having some regalia made for the kids and me. For moments like these, when we were in another pack’s territory. The legends seem more real to other packs when it’s bluntly obvious we are Ixchele.”

“So you’ve dressed in your own regalia before?” He wondered if she had replicated the correct colors and placed the proper symbols befitting her station. “And the kids?”

“A handful of times. When it was needed, but when I saw Pill dressed, looking like he had just walked off your mountain, I had to have one made for you, too. I couldn’t see you without one.” She stepped up close to the couch and followed his eye to the clothing splayed out on it. He was quiet for a long time. The only sound was Nayeli’s spoon clinking against her bowl.

“Thank you,” he finally said, deciding that if he could receive any gift in the world, it would be this, something that ties him to his ancestors and to his father. “Really. Thank you.” Eliza beamed and walked over to him with her arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around him and squeezed him hard, making him laugh. “I forget you’re almost as strong as me. ALMOST.”

“Oh,” she feigned anger, “you’re lucky I have tons to do right now or I would totally prove you wrong.” This elicited a hearty chuckle out of Metztli. Eliza let go of him with a playful punch in the gut. She walked past Nayeli, placing a kiss on the girl’s head and walked to the waiting busy bees in her bedroom.

Metztli helped dress the children, excited to see how well Eliza had paid attention to the details he had described. The children shone like bright little stars in the sky under their uncle’s attention. Each feeling the love and care bestowed on them as Metztli made sure each one looked like they had just walked out of his Ixchele village.

When Metztli finally stood in front of the Moon pack outside, near the courtyard, dressed in his full regalia, it looked like the Ixchele people had not died out years ago. Instead, the children giggled and squealed in their white linen dresses and gold jewelry. Pill stood next to his mother, proud and stoic. Eliza wore the black and gold dress of a queen. Her dove feather headdress crowning her head, turquoise earrings signifying her noble status. Metztli felt himself standing tall next to his sister, his Ixchele blood pumping strongly in his veins.

“Well,” Eliza smiled up at him, “don’t you look fearsome.”

“And you, an imposing chieftainess,” he said. She immediately giggled.

“Where did you learn such a big word, Metztli,” she asked. He shrugged with a goofy lopsided grin, breaking the aspect of “fearsome” warrior.

“Excuse me,” Ashley, the assistant, interrupted as she walked up to the group. The dozen Moon pack members parted to make way for Ashley as she pushed her way through the crowd. At the sight of Eliza and Metztli, she stopped dead in her tracks, jaw wide open. The sight of the two siblings in full Ixchele clothing was intimidating and Ashley suddenly felt very small in the presence of the two striking figures. “Luna…” She cleared her throat, her eyes cast down like looking at them for too long hurt. “The Alpha and Luna are waiting for you in the reception hall. Please follow me. I will show you the way.”

Eliza, the children, Metztli and the dozen Moon pack members, in that order, followed Ashley across the courtyard and into another building. High ceilings and expensive Italian tile greeted the group. At the far end of the room, behind rows and rows of carefully decorated and perfectly set tables, the Asher Alpha and Luna turned their attention to Eliza. Their mouths gaped open for a moment before they composed their expression again.

“Eliza,” Luna Alondra said a bit louder than a whisper as Eliza stepped close to her. The Alpha said nothing, but his eyes traveled over Eliza’s clothing, the children and finally stopped on Metztli, his gaze turned wide-eyed and fearful. Metztli frowned in return, but laughed inwardly. There was every sign that the Alpha was scared of Metztli.

“Alpha. Luna,” Eliza started in a friendly tone. “I know that proper introductions were not made last night, but allow me to introduce my Ixchele brother, Metztli.” The Alpha gave him a flat smile, but the Luna looked awestruck. Her eyes cemented themselves onto the wide breadth of his shoulders and the muscled planes of his chest.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Metztli said, allowing his accent to thicken as he spoke. He could see Alondra swallow hard before giving him a shy smile.

“The pleasure is all ours,” the Luna squeaked out and quickly turned to Eliza to show her to the head table, where she claimed the guests of honor would sit. Eliza followed her and settled the children near to her. The Moon pack stayed close, making sure the children and Eliza were attended to, but Metztli understood that while it looked like the Moon pack was taking care of their highest ranking female, they were actually putting themselves in very strategic places around the open room. He noticed the backs to walls and the clear pathways made to exits, all done nonchalantly so as to not raise suspicions in the Asher pack.

He had to give it to Eliza. She seemed well protected and ready in case of the worst scenario happening. He also knew that in the event that the worst were to happen, Eliza would be the scariest person in the room, especially if her children were in the mix.

It wasn’t too long later that guests began to file in, paying respect to Eliza. Some even came with gifts for her and the children. It was strange for Metztli. Maybe because he was Ixchele and didn’t see the magic or the mysticism in himself, but he had to admit the wolves had a completely different view of the Ixchele people than what he knew them to be. The regarded Eliza as if she was the Goddess incarnate and the children were the hope of every werewolf in existence. Which he saw a bit of back at the Moon pack. Especially the way the women fell all over themselves to get his attention, but to see it almost religiously placed on his sister made it clear that wolves had no idea who they were; and probably never will. If they were so eager to place them on a pedestal, their legend and myth would only continue.

He shook his head in disbelief.

Metztli disliked watching the pageantry being forced on his sister and wandered over to one of the large windows that lined one of the far walls. Outside, the late morning sun had begun to push the light morning fog back into the ocean, uncovering distant structures and sights. This city was very different from El Paso. The buildings and houses seemed to be trying to climb atop one another in a sad attempt to reach the sky. He missed his mountain and as he blew out a strangled breath, wished he could be back in his rocky desert.

Just then, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his skin prickled. Something felt off.

He looked around and his eyes caught on a small blonde shuffling over to him with tiny steps. Her ice blue eyes were lasered onto him as she clutched the hem of her navy dress in her fists. He noticed her breathing was ragged and labored. She looked like she was about to burst at the seams. When she stopped in front of him, her bottom lip was quivering and her whole body was in full tremors.

Metztli regarded her for a moment. She was beautiful. Long golden hair, creamy, smooth skin dusted with freckles the way the sky is flecked with stars at night. A rare sapphire in a box of costume jewelry, but her strange reaction made him wonder if she, maybe, suffered from seizures or some other affliction. She just seemed strange.

“Can I help you,” Meztli asked. She parted her rose colored lips, but nothing came out. “OK.” Metztli nodded and gave her a flattened smile before walking back towards his sister, completely weirded out by the strange girl.

“Everything OK,” Eliza asked when he sat down next to her.

“Yeah. Wolves are so strange. How do you deal with them?”

“I don’t know,” she laughed. “Sometimes I don’t.”