Head Wolf

Chapter 2

"Hey, I found my mate. She's here." Arthur pointed at Blenda every time someone passed, which caused her to sink further into her hooded coat.

He insisted on escorting her to her room after she was officially accepted by the head judge of the competition. He didn't stop talking ever since.

The corridor was too long for Blenda's sanity. She wanted to collapse on a bed and sleep until the competition started, but Arthur had other plans.

He walked backward in front of her, wearing her backpack on his front. He talked too fast. Her tired brain couldn't keep up, especially, that English was not her mother tongue. She ended up zoning out most of the time.

"Blenda, are you listening?" he said, peeking at her face under the hoodie.

"You'll like it back home. The weather is great. My pack will go crazy when they know I found my mate. My father is a tough man, but don't worry, he'll like you. I mean, you're perfect... You're strong--that's a quality he appreciates in any wolf--and you're beautiful... very beautiful." He stopped, hugging her backpack, a dreamy smile on his lips.

"I can't wait to bring you home."

Blenda kept walking, bumping into his shoulder, which to her surprise, didn't budge.

His hurried footsteps followed her, and his arm dropped on her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, "How about you ditch the competition, and we go on a honeymoon? Just you and me."

"No," she said, shrugging his arm. As much as she enjoyed the tingles, she wasn't comfortable being touched.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd accept," he mumbled, "but it was worth a shot."

"Won't you be in trouble for leaving your guard duty?" If it was in Blenda's pack, Arthur would do extra patrols for sure.

"Guard what?... Oh, no, honey. I'm a guest here," he said. His boyish grin was back on his face.

"I didn't know they do that."

"They don't. I'm special. You should've known that by now."

"Sicher (sure). Who are you then?" she asked, not knowing what to make of him.

The Head Wolf competition was of an extreme importance in the werewolf's world. Participants were handpicked by the king's generals. Every candidate's family history was researched through and through before they sent them the invitation. After all, the king would be present. They wouldn't let anyone not involved in. If he wasn't a guard, or a judge, or a participant, who was he?

"I'm the alpha of the West Claw pack."

Blenda's steps halted. She looked at him, pursing her lips.

"Artur." She deadpanned with a thick accent.

"You don't believe me? I'm hurt, but the way you said my name made it all better," he said, rubbing his chest to soothe a nonexistent pain.

Blenda's eyes travelled from his childish expression to the too many beaded leather bracelets around his wrist, to his navy t-shirt and grey jogger pants. She shrugged. "I don't believe you."

"But I am the alpha of the West Claw pack," he whined, shoulders slouched forwards, then walked, dragging the bag on the stone ground. Blenda shook her head, smiling.

The first time she heard about the West Claw pack was when it won a war against the rogues who destroyed a neighbouring pack, the Red River pack. Blenda knew little about it, but it was public knowledge that when the war ended, no rogue was left alive and there was no Red River pack anymore. It was gruesome and genius. Everything this pretty boy was not.

Maybe that was his father. It'd make him the alpha's spoiled son. As disappointing as that sounded, it was more plausible.

Blenda smiled to herself. He does look like a pretty boy.

To her surprise, the idea didn't repulse her. She found him cute. Something she never thought she'd associate with her mate. She grew up around tough men in her village. Her family, of a long line of warriors, never had a softy among them. It sculpted her personality, but it created a longing inside her for warmth and softness.

"We're here," he said, smiling, "wait, I'll open the door."

He picked her up, burying his face in the crock of her neck, and she squeaked. He made a full unnecessary circle, squeezing the life out of her, then put her down on the same spot. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned. "Sorry, you were in the way."

Blenda couldn't stop her smile. "Ja, sicher." (yeah, sure.)

He fumbled with the door lock behind his back as he refused to look away from her eyes. Too much struggle and the door was still shut. Blenda's shoulders shook as she bit her dusty fist to suppress her laughter, but she failed, and it echoed in the empty corridor. At the sight of her, glowing with happiness, he laughed along.

"I got it, I got it." He leaned to the right and to the left until it clicked.

"Hah," he exclaimed with triumph, then leaned on the door frame as the door creaked open behind him. "Your man opened the door, fair lady," he said with a cocky smile.

"Well, you're in the way." She reached out to pick him up. As her fingers touched his sides, he wiggled like a madman.

He's ticklish. Her eyes widened as she continued her attack. He fell on the floor, shrieking.

"Stop...ss...stop," he stuttered between laughs.

Blenda took her bag from next to him and jumped inside with a ghost of a smile teasing her lips. She threw the bag inside the small closet at her left, then flopped on the twin bed next to it.

The room was small and plain, like any other barrack room. She took her watch off and put it on the nightstand. There was a small desk with a chair across from her.

"This is the second time I end up on the floor since we met. Are you trying to demasculate me?" Arthur said, dusting his clothes.

She chuckled, looking out of the window next to the headboard. There was nothing but the darkness of the night.

"Alpha, you're needed," a panting voice said from the door.

"I'm coming, Max," Arthur said, without looking.

"The king said it's urgent." The guard insisted.

Arthur stiffened for a second, but hid it with an eye roll.

"Ok, go. I'll be right behind you."

He looked at Blenda as the guard's footsteps retreated.

"Go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. There's a bathroom over there if you want to take a shower." He pointed to the only other door in the room.

She nodded, tilting her head in question.

"I have to go." He shuffled towards the door. "You know how kings are. I have to braid his hair and tuck him to bed... what can I say?... kings," he said as he disappeared, closing the door behind him.