Lady Wolfe | The Beginning | • Wattys 2022 •

16 - Hope and Choices

Far away from the inn was an old shed. The shed had been abandoned for years. It was the only place he was safe. Nobody came there. Nobody could know he was alive.

Everyone believed he was dead and he preferred it kept that way.

The stranger still remembered how he staggered all the way from a riverbank with a dagger latched to his back. He found an empty shed and he hid there for days.

He was to die. He lost too much blood. The pain from his stab wound was unbearable. But his vengeance kept him alive. There was a burning will in him to keep himself alive so that he could hunt her down.

He was filled with wrath. He knew the reason for his suffering. He lost his brother. He lost his men. He lost everything. He lost it all to her!

The memory of a woman throwing her dagger from across the river was etched on the back of his mind.

She thought he died but he didn't. He was only pretending to be limp, lying on the dirt with no apparent movements when he was very much alive. From the corner of his eye, he saw how she hugged her lover. His vision was blurry but still, he watched them. He watched the wolves.

So many cheered with her, thinking they won. All because of her.

At that moment vengeance poisoned his mind.

This stranger wanted her. He didn't just want to kill. No, he wanted to kill everything close to her, he wanted her to suffer, to scream in pain. He wanted to see her begging for her life before finally killing her.

He was going to find her even if it took him years. Even if she fled Cagrard, he was going to find her.

'I know where she is.'

He whipped out his knife at whoever the intruder was. This hut had no occupants for months. Who could it possibly be?

However, he had no heart to kill the intruder for she was a beautiful noblewoman. She wore a satin red dress. Her hair matched her red dress, she had silky dark reddish hair which flowed so gracefully to her waist. She was so pretty that he still couldn't take his eyes off her.

He knew this woman. She was his rescuer. She was the woman who found him and tended to his care. It was she who cleaned his wound, stitched him, and kept him well fed all this while in that wretched hut.

'Where is she?' The stranger demanded at once.

The redhead only smirked, her finger twirled with a ring on her hand. The stranger deduced long ago that this was no ordinary noblewoman. He didn't know who she was. He didn't know why she rescued him. But he knew she looked like the Queen. He recognized her from what he heard in some taverns and diners before this.

The Queen was a stunning redhead, with glistening hazel eyes and this woman strikingly resembled her.

But he never bothered to ask nor did she ever revealed her identity. Both preferred their identities to be kept a secret. It was better.

This woman told him everything about her. He knew his attacker was Meela Wolfe, a skilled warrior from the Isle.

He didn't know why this redhead was helping her.
It was no surprise that the brunette messed around a lot, angering many but the stranger wanted to know. Why did this noblewoman want her dead so badly?