Blood Bound (mlm)

Chapter 1: Part 3

I don't know how long I've been silent for and having an existential crisis about the wolves that made me and the pack I was born into, but I'm brought out of it by him clearing his throat. "But I've gotten my revenge a hundred times over in a way. The amount of your pack warriors and even regular wolves I've killed is more than I care to remember at this point. How many families have I ripped apart compared to what they did to me?" He says, making a bad effort at pretending to gloat. He's trying to make light of it...morbidly so but still. "I-I'm sorry I, I don't know what to say...not that there is anything I can say to make it better or anything I jus—" I ramble, feeling the need to be apologetic but he stops me by putting a warm hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to say anything, it's not like you were there when your parents gave the order." He reassures me, a small smile on his face even though his eyes are full of heartache.

How can he stand to have me here? The son of the people that had his family slaughtered and his home stolen from him. His hand moves from my shoulder as he gets up without any more words on the topic. He walks to the kitchen and I hear as he opens the fridge, my mind hundreds of kilometres away. Do I believe him? I mean even if I don't it wouldn't be very smart to show that...but I do believe it. It feels like ten minutes before I find it in me to continue being cordial. Standing up and joining him in his kitchen, I watch as he cuts some ingredients. "What's your name?" I ask, hoping he'll let me know. "Yerik Sylva." He answers, his eyes trained on the cutting board before him as he chops away. Sylva...where do I know that name from?

"I'm Luca, it's nice to properly meet you Yerik." I say with a soft smile, enjoying the way his name rolls off of my tongue. He seems to enjoy it too, his neck and cheeks blushing over just slightly but I won't point it out. "Likewise. You like deer? I'm making burgers." He responds, still not looking at me. "I'm more of a bear guy but I won't say 'no' to you, my gracious host." I try to joke lightly and thankfully it's well received as he chuckles and finally looks at me. The eye contact we share makes my heart flutter inexplicably, startling me to the point of blushing. "C-can I, uh, would you like some help?" I offer, stumbling over my words embarrassingly and making him chuckle again, the sound like music to my ears.

What the f**k is going on with me right now?? "Sure, can you grab the meat grinder for me? It's in the cabinet above the stove." He requests and I nod before getting to it. The next hour and a half is spent grinding the semi-frozen deer meat, washing then cutting some fix ins, forming patties, cooking them and assembling our burgers. After getting some more water out of the fridge we sit on the couch and dig in. Unable to resist it for some reason, I watch as he takes a bite of his burger, the juices from the medium rare patty dripping onto his plate and making me squirm. "What? Don't tell me you're squeamish." He questions with amusement, noticing my staring and slight grimace.

"No I just don't like bloody food when I'm unshifted." I respond before taking a bite of my well-done burger. "You're missing out Luca...wait, so wait you also eat well done steak?" He asks and I nod my head 'yes', getting a comical gasp from him. "That's insane. I'll make you a medium rare one tomorrow, you have to try it." He says. "Really you don't have to bother, I've tried and I don't like it at all." I chuckle in response, though the memory of trying rare steak for the first time isn't pleasant. My father would virtually force feed them to me because, apparently, that's how all males like their steaks. I could just never get behind it though and it took years before he finally gave up on trying to force my palette.

"Well you haven't tried my steaks. I'll make it extra special so there isn't any 'blood'." He replies and winks cutely, making me smile. "Fine, but you can't get upset when I don't like it." I relent and stick my pinky finger out before showing him my hand. "I promise I won't get upset if you don't like it." He swears, already convinced I'll be pleasantly surprised. We continue to chit chat about food and cooking. Despite him being orphaned as young as he was, he cooks well and as often as possible. It's his peace and I find it to be a very adorable thing about him.

I, on the other hand, am a disaster in the kitchen and I tell him of all my kitchen catastrophes. "You just haven't had a good teacher, every wolf can be good at cooking because it's a skill at the end of the day." He assures after I share my last story of nearly burning down the entire pack house, forcing my parents to remodel the kitchen. "It's nice that you're so optimistic but trust me, it's better for you if I don't go near your stove." I respond, drinking the last of my water. "But anyway, thank you for lunch Yerik, it was really delicious and I really am sorry that I'm here." I say thoughtfully, wanting to express how grateful and apologetic I am. "You don't have to apologise, it's really okay. As I'm sure you can imagine I don't get a lot of visitors, let alone to cook for." He responds graciously, making me feel slightly better about intruding.

"I'm happy to be company then. Guess that spare room you have is finally coming in handy." I say. "Yea, when I started building this place I wanted to make it after my childhood home. Even though I didn't think I'd ever need the spare, I put it in anyway, it felt wrong not to." He explains shortly as he walks to the front door. "Anyway, I'm going out to check my territory perimeter. I don't have much for entertainment except for some books on the shelf over there, so I hope you're a reader." He informs. "Thanks." I reply and after a simple nod in response he heads out.

I can't help but watch him on the porch through the window, taking his clothes off to prepare to shift. His muscled back is covered in scars and I can't keep myself from wondering about it. I watch as his flesh rips to let his black fur through and listen to his bones breaking and reforming. My eyes don't leave him until he runs off into the dense forestry surrounding his home. Once he's gone all warmth seems to vanish but the pleasant scent just increases, soothing me despite his absence. I sigh and move towards the bookshelf and pick a random book.

[The Greatest War & Modern Pack Politics.

By Carla Max of Pack Grey]

It reads and I decide to give it a gander despite already having learned about the war at school. The "Greatest War" was a long sequence of battles between the four Major Old Packs that existed 10 centuries ago. Hundreds of Minor Old Packs were involved but solely due to their reliance on and proximity to any one of the major four. So the war was essentially a violent and bloody pissing contest for the powerful and prestigious title of "The Greatest" amongst the four. Old Pack Alpha won and eventually became Pack Atlas, which is why we've been the strongest pack to date. Old Pack Rho was the second most powerful at the time and the most ferocious enemies of Alpha, but they didn't manage to win. They eventually became Pack Riverside and the rivalry between us is still going strong. Old Pack Delta also lost, although they fought in the war they were never terribly invested, which makes Pack Destine's neutrality today understandable.

The fourth Old Pack and the pack it eventually became were mentioned very very briefly, so the names are fuzzy in my mind. It was, and I imagine still is, an unspoken rule not to ask too many questions about the fourth in history class, so I'm interested to read about what we didn't get taught. I get myself comfortable on the couch and open the book up to the index, searching for a chapter that might shed some light. I'm hoping there is one because none of the books back home have any.

[Chapter 16: Old Pack Psi

Foreword

The unfortunate story of Old Pack Psi is one not to be pitied. Before the war, they were a pack of great integrity, even more so than Old Pack Delta. While descendant Packs Atlas, Riverside and maybe even Destine would want to have you believe their Old Pack's fought a righteous war, the c*****e they all laid to Old Pack Psi brings that into question. Furthermore, Pack Atlas's actions less than 20 years ago will bring to light their true nature, one inherited from Old Pack Alpha. While I have consulted with historians from the major packs to inform my writings of previous chapters, the same cannot be said for this one. Gross censorship on the topic of Old Pack Psi and its descendant pack in Packs Atlas, Riverside and Destine presented a wall in the writing of the next few chapters. Fortunately for you readers, many minor packs descendant from those involved in the war have kept detailed records dating back since before the war began. In this chapter, I intend to expose the horrible truth. All references, as usual, will be included in the reference list.]

The foreword reads, sucking me into the book even more. From the foreword I expected what I would read next to be bad, but not as bad as it really was. According to the author, Old Pack Psi was victimised by the other three. Psi initially refused to get physically involved in the fight when Alpha, Rho and Delta began to attack each other for the prized title. Instead, they attempted to bridge the gaps that made the others feel the need to prove might through violence. They tried diplomacy; suggesting various intellectual pursuits as measures of success and greatness rather than outright physical aggression. Just months into the fight and as with many of the minor packs, they couldn't stay pacifist anymore. The consequences of the violence and sneaky tactics were slipping into their territory and they had to do something. Rho dumped munitions waste into their fresh water supplies, poisoning dozens and destroying their fertile lands which lead to the deaths of fauna and flora they subsisted upon.

Delta began a campaign of raids on less secure towns within their territory, ravaging vulnerable groups faster than Psi could respond to tactfully. But worst of all was what Alpha did. They sterilised much of the Psi population under the guise of being respectful of their wishes not to fight. Alpha would supply food, "fresh" water and intel on the dirty tricks of Rho and Delta to gain Psi's trust, when in reality they were providing food and water dosed with sterilising contraceptives whilst conveniently leaving their actions out. Psi only caught on after an entire three years of the war, by that time a fifth of their population was dead and a fifth more inexplicably infertile. At that point they still had more than half their population but had to partner with some surrounding minor Old Packs to formally enter the war.

Unfortunately though, Psi was taken out a year and a half later. Two thirds of their territory was taken over by the other three packs, with Alpha annexing the majority. Their population was left at just a sixth of what they had before the war. Many of those who survived were ordered by the Alphas to seek asylum in allied Minor Old Packs geographically removed from the war while prominent wolves exiled themselves to neutral, unclaimed lands. The hope was that once the war was over everyone would return to what was left of their territory and rebuild. But that never happened as the war continued for another six and a half years when, by the end, that territory was completely annexed by Old Pack Alpha.

When the war officially ended there were 4 centuries of relative peace between the three remaining major packs. But that was far from the end of the horror story.

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