The icy wind howled, a mournful cry that echoed Arin's own despair. She ran, her boots pounding against the frozen earth, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The unseen presence, the feeling of being hunted, intensified with each frantic step. She was alone, vulnerable, a wolfless werewolf adrift in a hostile wilderness.
"Arin!"
The familiar voice, a beacon of warmth in the desolate landscape, cut through the wind's mournful cry. She stumbled to a halt, her heart pounding against her ribs, she turned around, her eyes searching the swirling snow.
"Ivor?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
A figure emerged from the swirling white, a tall, lean silhouette that moved with a familiar grace. Ivor, her childhood friend, her confidant, her steadfast ally. Relief washed over her, a wave so intense it almost brought her to her knees.
She ran towards him, her tears freezing on her cheeks, her voice choked with emotion. "Ivor!" she cried, her arms outstretched.
He caught her in a warm embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her, his hand patting her back comfortingly. She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears flowing freely, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief.
"Ivor, I don't understand," she sobbed, her voice muffled against his cloak. "He banished me. He said… he said I was carrying another man's child. But I don't… I don't know how…"
Ivor held her close, his touch reassuring, his silence a comforting presence. He let her cry and blabber, let her release the pent-up fear and confusion that had been tearing her apart.
When her sobs subsided, he gently pulled her away, his eyes filled with a deep concern. "Arin," he said, his voice soft but firm, "you need to be careful. You need to leave this place. Now."
"But where?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Where can I go?"
"Etril," Ivor said, his voice laced with a quiet urgency.
Arin's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. "Etril?" she echoed, her voice laced with alarm. "But that's… that town is cursed! It's full of… dangerous people!"
Etril was known for being where people who could not live in any of the packs or the royal city lived. It was said that witches, killers for hire, elves and even vampires could be found there. It was a lawless town which had its own governing rules, even though bizarre. It was said that the Alpha king turned a blind eye to their actions to maintain peace.
"It's the only place you'll be safe," Ivor said, his voice firm. "No one else will risk the Alpha King's wrath by taking you in. Etril is your only chance."
He paused, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. "And," he added, his voice barely audible, "they have witches there. Witches who might be able to tell you… how this happened."
Arin's breath caught in her throat. The thought of finding answers, of uncovering the truth, was a beacon of hope in the darkness of her despair. She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with a newfound resolve.
"Okay," she said, her voice barely audible. "I will go to Etril. But, how do I get there, I have no money."
Ivor reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, worn leather pouch. He handed it to Arin, his eyes filled with a quiet concern.
"Here," he said, his voice soft. "This is all I have. It should be enough to get you to Etril."
He then revealed a small, but sharp, black dagger. "Take this as well. You will need to protect yourself."
Arin took the pouch and the dagger, her fingers trembling slightly. "Thank you, Ivor," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "You are the only one who's ever believed in me."
Ivor smiled, a sad, gentle smile. "Just be careful, Arin," he said, his voice laced with a quiet warning. "Etril is a dangerous place. But it's also your only hope."
He paused, his eyes filled with a deep affection. "And remember," he added, his voice barely audible, "I will be thinking of you."
Arin nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "I'll see you again, Ivor," she said, her voice laced with a quiet determination. "I promise."
She turned away, her gaze fixed on the desolate expanse before her. She was no longer alone. She had a destination, a purpose, a glimmer of hope in the darkness of her exile. She would find her way to Etril. She would find the truth. And she would survive.
*
The grand hall of the Mountain Peak pack house fell silent as Oswald's heavy footsteps retreated, leaving Usera and Nova alone in the echoing space. A triumphant smile played on Usera's lips, her eyes gleaming with a cold satisfaction. Years of careful maneuvering, of subtle manipulations, had finally borne fruit. Arin, the obstacle, the thorn in her side, was gone. And Nova, her beautiful, obedient daughter, was poised to take her place.
Nova, her face flushed with excitement, rushed to her mother's side, her arms wrapping around Usera in a tight embrace. "Mother!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with unrestrained glee. "Did you hear? I am going to be the Alpha King's mate, I am going to be queen!"
Usera returned the embrace, her hand stroking Nova's hair, her voice laced with a maternal pride.
"Yes, my darling," she purred, "you are. And you will be a magnificent queen. You will give him strong heirs, and you will secure our pack's future."
Nova pulled away, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and a chillingly familiar malice. "I just wish that… that horrible Arin was dead," she said, her voice laced with a venomous spite. "It would have been so much easier if the Alpha King had just killed her instead of bringing her back here."
Usera's smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Don't worry your pretty head about that, my darling," she said, her voice laced with a chilling assurance. "I have taken care of that."
Nova's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of surprise and delight. "You have?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Usera nodded, her eyes gleaming with a cold satisfaction. "She won't survive long out there," she said, her voice laced with a dark certainty. "A wolfless werewolf, alone in the wilderness… she is as good as dead."
She paused, her gaze fixed on the swirling snow outside the window, her eyes filled with a chillingly detached amusement. "And even if she does manage to survive," she added, her voice barely audible, "there are… other ways to ensure her demise."
Nova's smile widened, a predatory gleam mirroring her mother's. They shared a moment of silent understanding, a bond forged in ambition and a shared desire for power. Arin was no longer a threat, a mere footnote in their grand scheme. The future belonged to Nova, to Usera, to their lineage. They would rise to the pinnacle of power, and they would rule with an iron fist.
Usera looked at her daughter, her eyes filled with a maternal pride. Nova was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever dreamed of. She was beautiful, ambitious, and ruthless. She was the perfect weapon, the perfect tool to achieve their ultimate goal.
And together, they would conquer