Curse of Ferreus

33 - A New Dawn

One Month Later...

We didn't emerge from the fight entirely unharmed. Orion, Liliana and my mother fought dirty, alongside some of the officers they brought along for numbers— the ones who didn't surrender. We lost people. Good people, who only wanted to help me get rid of my family. It's a debt I won't be able to repay.

Rowan organised for them to be buried with respect on a little hill overlooking the valley, so they can watch over their home. It's a sombre yet quaint place, with swaying trees bordering a collection of gravestones, flower wreaths draped elegantly against their smooth surfaces. Members of the pack come here to be with the loved ones they've lost through time, the feud with Duskland, or the confrontation with my family. And yet, none of them grudge me for it.

That's not to say I don't grudge myself.

Rowan's parents — the former alpha pair — are buried here, too. He comes here most mornings to sit with them and look out over his land, and then he goes for a jog (either as a man or a wolf) to let off some energy and to clear his head.

I come here a lot, too, because nestled at the base of a tree, looking out at the twinkling constellation of Crescent Valley as the sun slides towards the mountainous borders, casting the sky in swathes of amber and gold and lilac, is a new gravestone. It belongs to Esme and, though I know she's not here, it brings me comfort to sit with her and let my thoughts drift.

One of the fuckers got me. That was the last thing Esme said to me. It hurts, knowing how quickly it all went wrong. How quickly our lives were ripped from us. I wonder what she would think of how it all ended up for me, and with a wry ghost of a smile, I think, one of them got me, too, Es. I think you'd like him, disregarding the wolf thing. I love him in spite of it— maybe even because of it. I wish you could have seen this side of the fight, and I hope you can forgive me. You were always the better hunter of us both. I'm never saying that again, so savour it.

A tentative whine breaks my focus, and I glance across to find Rowan's wolf— a majestic creature with dark grey fur and owlish golden eyes peering at me. He's lying down not too far away, head resting on his front paws and his tail shifting from side to side as he studies me. His ears flick and swivel, taking in the soft noises of the woods around us. Behind him, Beau's wolf chases his tail and Lachlan and Morgan's wolves watch him, looking torn between alarm and acceptance.

Two months ago, I wouldn't have been able to tell them apart. In fact, two months ago, if I'd turned to find four wolves so close, I would've had a heart attack and the silver would be flying within the instant.

A lot has changed, and I've changed with it.

I recognise Rowan's wolf because he's a little larger than the others and stares at me with the sort of intense focus that drills right to my core, sparking with warm familiarity. His fur is darker, too. Beau's wolf is more nimble and light-footed — bouncy and eager as a puppy in an overgrown body — and his fur takes on a brownish tint that glows in the sunlight. Lachlan rivals his alpha's size, and his fur is more ashy than Rowan's own. Morgan's wolf is all lithe and graceful, a similar grey to Rowan, and she holds her head high and peers down her long snout at her mate, who has tipped onto the ground and gazes at her upside-down. He yips; she tackles him. They roll around, play-fighting, until Morgan manages to pin him down with her fangs clamped around his throat. Beau whines in defeat, though his tail whips side to side and Morgan releases him and licks his snout in apology.

As I watch, the beta bows playfully, first to his mate, then to Lachlan, who chases him off, and finally to Rowan, eager for someone to fight with. He even risks a glance at me, but he doesn't approach.