Slave of the Alpha's Heart

She held up the dress in the light that trickled from an opening from the doorway of the tent. It was a lovely silken material with several rubies that were arranged in the shape of wavy bands that blew also, the name of the clan loudly. . They stayed in the Barakkans, where the slums were outlandish and the poorest omegas called home. Then, within the wolf colonies, the acute drought collided with appalling hygiene; the resounding effect was she and her sister had grown sickly white through the harsh weather but her body was stronger. Her sister afterwards, succumbed to the long road of the wasting disease. No matter the food she ate and the medications she took, she only outlived their mother as the winter season came to a close. “Lila moaned weakly, her frail body shook as the fever raked her body. Gwen stifled a cry as she watched her only sister devoured by the wasting disease. Lila’s eyes were teary and she had lost so much weight that her entire ribs showed in the half-light. She gasped when the scented water touched her milky skin which looked like it was atrophied. Several days out in the cold and little white bread and meat had endured that it made her so. “You can go now. Ill be fine” She managed to lisp through her cracked lips. She placed her hands on her sister’s laps as she nodded slowly. “I won’t be long, I’ll take the shorter Fakken Pass to the manor, I won’t be long, dear. Gwen held her hands tightly as she lent her strength to her sick relative, breathing deeply and whispering a word of courage, safety and rest. She watched Lila heave a sigh and fall into a deep sleep. She grabbed the embroidered dress and made tentatively for the door. The morning was still chilly but Gwen had seen leaner days. She stuffed the folded cloth and marched through the Whispering pines; where the night wisps were said to lay in peace after millennia of existence. She trudged onward, occasionally glancing back to the path that led to her tent. Gwen kept to the side of the pass after seeing that the cloud had begun to gather in the far north and prayed silently for her sister, asleep in the nest below. She knew the vile wind might uproot the stilts which stood the tent and bedridden Lila would be left to face the wrath of the relentless nature. Her heart went out to her fragile sister, shaking in the sparse warmth the few kindling could offer. Long before the great chill, she had always known her beloved sister as a rosy cheeked child that was full of life and a shining destiny before her. She had always appeared to Gwen and her mother as a strong woman who might have a chance to clinch the Luna from a wealthy household or clan should the chance presented itself. She was regarded as a strong and very alluring person until……. It was Lila who had succumbed to the consuming disease and was lying helpless in the den. Gwen cried out softly as she remembered how her strong sister always resisted every plea for her to be gentle and feminine. However, her mother Elizabeth had loved her more than she loved Gwen. The sound of the horses came suddenly, snapping her from her thoughts and making her jump sideways, swerving from the main path. Before she knew what was happening, the dress she had laboriously worked on was off her shoulders. The goatskin bag was thrown on the floor and open. The dress spilled out and several horseshoes were on it in a matter of seconds No! The wind aided her shout of distress and fear to the taller trees which had distanced themselves from the path. Her voice of fright was enough to startle the birds at the treetops which peeped into the scattered tents of the tribe wolves which settled at the fringe. The lead horse had picked her up and raced her through a short distance away. It snorted in agitation and stopped on its tracks when its masked rider barked a sharp command. No! Righting herself promptly, she shouted again as the horses at the rear stopped when the ones at the front had halted a few yards away. Throwing guile to the wind, she dashed to the discarded parcel on the floor. The wind seemed to refuse her haste. She crashed to the ground and flicked off the bag. “What did you do?” She asked angrily as she hugged the dress close to her bosom, feeling it might be better that way that to see the damage physically. Her sensitive skin could pick out any crease and crack if there was any. In her mind, she had counted the number of rubies it bore and sighed when relief that there were none missing. The rider having jumped down from the great horse, walked slowly to the maiden with the fire in her eyes and a stubborn pout. He smirked inwardly and stretched out his veiny hands to help her stand. “Are you hurt, miss?”