My Cursed Mate's Revenge

Chapter 2: A Dying Man's Wish

Two Months Earlier:

Freya

I clung to my father’s freezing hand, my palm slick with sweat. The room was sweltering, a roaring fire at the foot of his bed that had not been allowed to diminish in days. The heat did nothing to stop the shivers wracking his body. His lips were a pale, blue color and covered in dried spittle, violent coughs bringing forth a fresh layer every few minutes.

These coughs did not end peacefully and instead led to a vicious, choking, dry heave. I dropped his hand and scrambled to grab the freshly cleaned bucket, an ever-present companion to the fire in his room.

Returning to his bedside, I held the bucket in his lap with one hand and pulled him forward with the other. Only one other presence was in the room with us. I knew not to expect help from her unless other eyes were watching. She had stopped pretending to care in front of me years ago, almost as soon as my mother’s body was laid to rest.

My stepmother, Moira, sat in a chair on the other side of my father’s sick bed, a look of disgust twisting her features as my father once again vomited a black, vile smelling sludge. The stuff seemed to come in a near endless supply, despite his inability to eat or drink anything these days.

When he was done, I laid him back down as gently as I could with one hand before placing the bucket on the ground, then grabbing a damp towel to wipe his mouth. A knock at the door sounded and a guard opened the door just enough to stick her head in.

“Fresh bucket?”

“Yes dear, thank you so much.” My stepmother’s features no longer showed an ounce of her disgust, a mask of care and concern falling easily into place.

She carried the bucket over to the door, switching it with the guard for a second, cleaned bucket, which she quickly placed at my side before returning to the door.

“Please let your commander know that we will still be gathering the pack in a few hours for our Alpha’s announcement. I know my Gabriel will find the strength to be there. We will make sure he is removed enough from everyone, in case the doctors…in case they were wrong and it can be spread.”

Her head hangs at the end, like she cannot bear the weight of the words she is speaking. The picture-perfect vision of a devastated Luna whose mate is dying. She closed the door before returning to her seat, the look of disgust once again revealed openly on her face.

The uncomfortable silence I had endured for weeks, broken only by the sounds of my father’s gasping breaths, settled back over the room.

I had hardly slept or ate since this mysterious illness had taken my father, but I refused to leave his side. Nothing in this world could convince me to leave him alone with her.

Suddenly, my father’s light brown eyes darkened and the strong voice of his wolf, Godric, filled the room.

“Gather the pack now, without delay. Our strength is failing and I do not know how much more time we have. We must announce you as the heir, Freya. You will lead our people in our absence.”

“But…no, I’m not ready for this. I still don’t have my wolf, everyone thinks I am a freak with the-”

“Stop.”

Godric’s Alpha command echoed through the room and my voice was immediately cut off.

“I will not allow you to disparage yourself, especially not to us. We have never felt anger or disappointment, not once for a moment while we raised you. You are strong. You are capable. There is no one else we would trust with the lives of our people. Your wolf will come one day, I have felt her presence-”

“But she may not, my dear. Freya is nearing her 22nd birthday. We must plan for who can lead in her place, especially given her…condition.”

Godric’s growl built in my father’s chest, a fierce sound that was interrupted by another bout of coughs. Fortunately, these did not end in vomit, and I wiped the damp towel across his mouth.

“Do not interrupt me, Moira. Especially on a topic concerning the appearance of one’s wolf. Gabriel may be mated to you, but in four years, I have yet to lay eyes on your wolf. Until that day comes, I do not recognize you as the mate of my heart and you will behave accordingly.”

The disdain in Godric’s voice shocked me. It was the first time since my father took Moira as his mate that I had heard him speak so openly.

There was not an ounce of the love, affection, or patience in his voice that was ever-present when he spoke with my mother Ava, or her wolf, Isadora. The relationship was such a stark contrast that it had always made me wonder if a second chance mate is truly a mate, or simply the Moon Goddess showing mercy on a weary heart.

Does she only give us our one great love, and the second chance mate is just a kindness to heal the broken heart?

The light in my parents’ eyes when my father and mother looked at each other has never shown for Moira. Instead, he always had a confused look, as if he was searching for something that he was told has to be there.

I was overjoyed to hear that my father had found a second chance mate so soon, terrified that I would lose my mother and that my father would follow shortly from the heartache. I regret that joy now, having spent four years watching my father change into a sad and lonely man, now withering away before me in a slow and painful death.

Suddenly, I felt my mind link with my father and Godric. Just as it had been since my 18th birthday, the mindlink came on suddenly and unexpectedly, with a bout of intense pain and confusion. It always felt like my skull was being cleaved in two and my body was no longer my own.

In these moments, I was helpless to stop the outpouring of my thoughts as they had been in the moment before the ‘mindlink seizure’ had begun, subjecting any and every wolf that was nearby to my thoughts, pain, and confusion.

They all knew I could not help it, but it did not stop them from avoiding me at every opportunity. The only relief was I had never felt my mind touch my stepmother’s.

I thanked the Goddess for this small mercy as my heartache, sadness and pain hit Godric and my father, a faint cry of anger echoing through our minds before the mindlink faded.

“I know better than most how exhausted you are to hear this, Freya. But the Goddess does not make mistakes. It is a gift, we just need..you. You just need to learn how to control it.”

For the hundredth time since this mysterious sickness had taken over my father, I felt my heart shatter. But this…this was the first time he had not assured me that he would help me learn what this gift was, where it came from, and teach me control over it.

“Have courage, Freya darling. Gather my things and tell the guard to ring the bell. We will need to get moving so the pack is not waiting for us too long.”

“Right away, Godric…Father.”

I was already in motion before he had finished his last sentence. I opened the door and saw the female guard who had poked her head in earlier sitting on a stool and sharpening her dagger.

She quickly replaces it and stands, ready to grab another vomit filled bucket. I hold up my hand to stop her and instead step into the hall with her, closing the door softly behind me.

“My father needs to gather the pack for an announcement. We’ll need help bringing him into the hall, as well. If you can, please send two guards to help me bring him to the hall, and send someone else to run to the peak and ring the bell. Just one solid tone. It’s an important matter but I don’t want to start a panic and have everyone trampling each other on their way out of their caves.”

“Right away, I’ll run to the peak myself. Should I tell them to bring anything to make the trip..easier?”

“No, I am sure we will be able to manage between the three of us, whoever you send. Thank you…?”

“Clara. My name is Clara.”

“My apologies. Thank you for your help, Clara.”

“It’s ok, I know you would have remembered under different circumstances.”

Without another word, Clara takes off at a steady pace, heading towards the pack guard’s quarters. Knowing these quarters were not far from the stairs leading to the peak, I estimated they had 20 minutes to get my father ready and to the pack hall before Clara would reach the tower and send the signal.

The bell was a brilliant idea by my great-great-grandfather, utilizing the stone air ducts that had naturally been formed in the pack mountain and which ran to every den, sometimes multiple per den. The bell was placed under the peak of the mountain and different bell signals were established, ensuring that information could be spread quickly to the pack in the event of an important announcement, attack, or an emergency.

I turned back into my father’s room and prepared to close the door behind me when Moira’s daughter and my infuriating stepsister, Astor, stuck her foot between the door and frame.

“Careful, Freya darling. Others might think you hate me if they see you slam a door in my face. We must present a united front in these uncertain times.”

Her voice was dripping in false concern and sympathy, perfectly matching the look of disgust and disdain that twisted her pretty features. We were of similar heights and both possessed an athletic build, but that was where our similarities ended.

While I had a pale complexion like most of the Snow Mountain pack, raven black hair, and dark blue eyes, Astor had beautiful, olive skin tone that had lightened from her years under our mountain, leaving pale, brown freckles dusting her nose and blonde streaks running through her curly brown hair- the remnants of a trip to the warmer and sunnier pack lands of our closest allies, the Night Stalkers, a few months ago.

She was happier during these trips. The sun and closeness to the woods she had grown up in always managed to change her into someone I thought I could have been friends with in another life.

A friend whose green eyes would sparkle with mischief when Moira caught her sneaking out of our guest quarters just for one more look at the full moon, one more run through the forest at night with her wolf, Cyrene.

But then our visits would end, and her good moods would fade faster than any tan on her skin, leaving her angry and bitter.

She would slowly start to turn on my father and me, always hinting that it was our fault for loving the snow and cold of our mountain home too much, for mating with her mother, dragging them from her forest home and stealing her every chance at happiness. We tried our best to help her adjust, but after a couple of years we realized that her hatred had nothing to do with us or our home.

She had grown up a rogue wolf in the forest, free of rules, obligations, or pack responsibilities, just to have her mother mated to the Alpha of the largest pack in all of Anostrossi.

My father did his best to assure her that I would marry and become our next Luna, would take over the pack, and that she could return to the woods she loved so much once it was safe. As more time passed and my wolf failed to appear, she stopped speaking in terms of ‘if’ she had to take over, stating that she hated seeing what her days would look like ‘when’ she took over.

It was one of the many reasons she and I had never grown close. The look of anger on her face every day that passed without my wolf appearing infuriated her nearly as much as it did me.

While I chose to put my heartache and anger into other pursuits, working twice as hard as everyone around me, hoping that my work would earn the respect of my pack and would show that I am still skilled, strong, and capable of leading until my wolf came, Astor chose to take her frustration out on me at every opportunity.

She saw my efforts as a waste, believing that no pack could be led by a Luna without a wolf of her own. It was a burden she did not want to bear, but the history of my pack and her mother told her she must.

Her constant ridicule and snide remarks over the years has made it easy to tune her out.

Ignoring her completely, I pulled the door open as wide as possible and turned away from her to prepare my father for the trip.

“Astor, now is not the time. There is too much that we must address for petty squabbles with Freya.”

“Yes mother, my apologies.” Her tone was flat and devoid of any emotion, let alone contrition. She leaned against the door frame, slightly turning her back to her mother, and began picking at her nails.

“You are forgiven, now what do you need?”

“The farmers are concerned with the most recent harvest. It is not expected to meet the excess needed to adequately replenish our winter caches. The Night Stalkers have reached out requesting additional weapons, apparently they lost significant resources after a recent warped wolf attack. They have also started accepting rogue wolves into their outpost on a trial basis, seeing if this prevents them from turning.

They want to know if we can spare a doctor or two to monitor their health for any signs or symptoms of an oncoming change, and any guards to help the ratio. They would like the outposts to have a three to one ratio of pack wolves to rogue wolves. They currently have half of that.”

I listened intently as she rattled this information off, helping my father to stand. His eyes had returned to their glazed appearance and drool leaked from his mouth, telling me that it was my time to stop lingering on my condition and start acting like the heir he was preparing to name me as.

“Tell the-”, the words had hardly left my mouth before my stepmother cut me off.

“No need, dear, focus on preparing your father. It is time to let your family help carry this burden.”

The shock of hearing her kind tone quickly evaporated when I looked up to see the two guards Clara had sent. I beckoned them in, as Moira continued.

“Now, go find the nearest Captain on duty and ask how many units we can spare. Send that number of guards to the Night Stalkers. They will bring additional weapons with them, along with a drafted agreement stating that we will require a portion of their food stores in exchange for our guards and resources. Once these supplies have been gathered, half of our forces will return, ensuring our stores are properly stocked. See that it is done. Now."

Astor left the room without acknowledging any of us. While not an enthusiastic or respectful minion for Moira, I had no doubt that Astor carried out her mother’s instructions to the letter.

The guards waited for me to continue directing them, so I began quietly pointing and indicating how I wished for my father to be carried, hoping the new and sudden movements would not disturb his sleep.

He was the strongest man I knew, but this sickness had stripped all of his strength, leaving less than a shell of the man and Alpha I knew behind.

“I must step away and change. I will meet you in the hall in time for the announcement. I simply cannot appear in front of our pack like this.”

Moira patted her simple dress and hair, gestured vaguely towards her and my father’s larger chambers as she stepped out of the room.

“Should we…does he need to be changed, as well?”

The guards shared a brief glance as they waited for me to respond. While doctors have determined that his illness was not contagious, precautions had to be taken, ensuring he had as minimal interaction with our pack as possible.

Because of this, we had decided he would be positioned on the upper tier of the pack hall with myself, the two guards that helped carry him, as well as Astor, and Moira, and a few other members who worked closely with the Alpha’s inner circle. The rest of the pack would be gathered on the lower tier, where his weakened voice would hopefully be just loud enough to echo through the hall for everyone to hear.

My father’s clothes were wrinkled and smelled faintly of the sludge he had been spitting up. He would be positioned too far from the rest of the pack for many to notice the wrinkles or smell, and most would be too distracted by his haggard appearance for his clothing to truly matter.

But still…

My father was not a vain man, but an intentional one. Appearances mattered to him. The appearance of an Alpha communicated just as much as any words or actions.

He had always taken the time to appear neat, orderly, and had always tried to exude strength, especially when speaking to other Alphas or our pack. I knew he would never want to appear in front of them like this. I would not allow him to do so dressed as he was now.

“Wait here, please. I will grab fresh clothes for him and then we can leave.”

The two guards nodded and laid my father back down as I left his sick room, following after my step mother and entering their bed chambers.

I moved quietly and quickly, ignoring the Luna’s closet Moira was changing in and walked into my father’s, grabbing the loosest shirt and pants I could find.As I stepped out of his closet, I looked across the bedchamber to the twin closet my step mother’s clothing occupied.

It is empty.

Confused, I step towards it, wondering where she could have gone. Before I could investigate further, violent coughs echoed from my father’s sick chamber, louder and stronger than they’d ever been.

I sprinted from the room, my step mother’s mysterious disappearance forgotten.