Mated to my Doom

Miatta

I could still remember that day, the day I had lost my freedom. It was like any other day and I had woken up just like any other time. I had sat at my mother's feet, her hands roaming in my silky dark hair. We didn't have much to do being members of the royal household of the Black Fur Pack. My father, Alpha Vince was far away from home with his army on the field of battle. Our numbers ranked in mere hundreds when they left because of the constant attacks on our pack by the neighbouring enemy pack, the Red Bone Pack but each man was trained to tackle his fellow warrior. My brothers had gone with him too, leaving the security of the rest of the pack to a handful of foot soldiers.

“Mother, when do you think they will return? I have a bad feeling about this,” I had confided in my mother, inhaling the woody scent of her hide skirt. She was a proud Luna but of late, she had been having sleepless nights. My mother was no ordinary wolf: she was a seer and she only revealed her visions to my father within earshot. She flattened her palm on her temple, looking forward in an eerie manner.

“Your father is fine, my dear and so are your brothers. As for the fate of our pack, we can only put our hope in the Moon Goddess. Military might has no say in this war.”

She always spoke with a philosophical but annoying vocabulary and I barely understand half of what she said. Mostly, I assumed she was speaking to herself, not willing for any of us to understand.

“Tell me, mother, will we win this war?” I beckoned to her, looking up into her compelling grey eyes. It was almost as if she was blind, her pupils capable of remaining in one position for a long time.

“It is not for me to reveal, dearest; time will tell.”

That was not the answer I sought and she knew this so she wasn't surprised when I pushed to my feet, leaving the grass floor. I wasn't weak or defenceless. My father had trained me alongside my brothers, preparing us all for the fight of our lives but at the last minute, my mother had prevailed upon him to let me remain within the safety of the pack. As usual, he listened to her advice and left me in her care. They had been gone for days and no one had returned to give us news of the ongoing lupine war.

The Red Bone Pack were not normal wolves; they were lycans, a special breed created by dark magic. The witches of East Coven had made the first one, a mindless beast whose sole purpose was to protect them from their enemies. When the beast had gone rogue, he had attacked a wolf pack and had been captured, its blood extracted to be experimented on. Their Alpha had tested its blood on several wolves, creating a new breed of demonic wolves. Although they looked like wolves, their transformation was incomplete, cursed creatures as they were. They stood like men, on two feet, their bodies covered in fur and their claws longer than normal. They wiped out the rest of the pack and overpopulated the village. Now they were my father’s biggest problem seeing that they insisted on increasing their territory.

When night fell and most of us had gone to bed, they attacked. They ambushed us, slaughtering both women and children. A large number of men had joined the army and the ones left had been taken by surprise. I had tried my best to hold the fort, killing as much as I could. I was skilled with the bow and arrow and though my mother regretted my military inclination, it had come in handy. I heard the screams of my people being torn from limb to limb and I was helpless, unable to save them all. Remembering my mother, I ran back to the Hall of Alphas, hoping to protect her. Pushing aside the flap that served as her door, I ran in only to find an empty room. My mother was gone.

Shouting a battle cry at the top of my lungs, I charged out of the room, wielding my bow in the air. I saw red and was ready to maim anything and anyone in my way when I heard my mother call my name from behind me. Her calm voice sent a chill down my spine and I spun on the ball of my heels. My mother was held captive by two huge lycans, another swinging a big blade in one hand. She looked peaceful and unperturbed despite their rough treatment of her.