The Fenrir Saga - Part I

Chapter 2b

--- Beonnie --- 

I woke up to birds chirping and mild sunrays that had strayed into my humble abode. My cave came with a great view over what I assumed was the unknown pack's territory. It was vast and beautiful, with deep forests, rolling hills, cliffs, lakes, and even mountains in the distance. Lush, green, blue, and the air was clean and full of life. It seemed friendly. I could stay here for a while.

Standing with the cave in my back, I had cliffsides to my left, a small trail to my right, and just a couple of steps in front of me; the ground was no more. I crept to the edge and peeked over it, overjoyed as I discovered that the cave was situated above an underground creek that splashed into a waterfall just beneath me. The waterfall created a shallow pool at the bottom that turned into a stream in both directions, functioning as a natural water barrier against anyone daring to cross what I understood was the pack border.

It was fair to say it was far from the ground from here, but not farther than I could see and hear what happened down there. At this moment, two werewolves sat on one of the rocks before the waterfall, basking in the early morning sun. They were in human form, and they were beautiful. 

The woman had long copper-brown hair and an air of playfulness around her. The male werewolf was clearly infatuated with her, and with his copper-brown hair, they made a perfect match. The scene in front of me was serene. I laid down on my stomach not to be detected but also, admittedly, to hear them better.

The wind was in my favour, making the sounds from below jump towards the cliffs, giving me ample opportunity to hear what they said. Of course, a positive side effect was that it also covered my scent a bit. However, the couple below were wholly engulfed by each other and would probably not have noticed if an entire band of rogues had passed them.

The female gently caressed the male's cheek and slumped her shoulders. I imagined she also sighed.

"Oh, Tristan. I.. if only we had known before, we could have..."

He put his finger on her lips.

"Shh, Dhalia. It will be fine. I will figure something out. Perhaps Zac can help us somehow."

The werewolf I now knew as Dhalia raised her head, looking intently into the male werewolf's eyes.

"You think Zac can do something? He would help us?"

"Of course, he would. He can talk Alpha out of this. Hopefully."

The male wolf, Tristan, stood up as if the plan to solve whatever their problem was would appear more quickly in standing form. He ran his fingers through his hair and started pacing around the small opening before the waterfall. He was tall and muscular, and if he had been part of my pack, he would have almost been the size of Alpha Carson. Ugh, that was one person I didn't need reminding of.

"I can't believe it has come to this. Not allowing fated mates to be with each other. It just isn't right," Tristan said, almost spitting out the words. "I mean, I know that Alpha thinks this will help the pack, but just because he hasn't found his mate, the rest of us shouldn't have to suffer."

Dhalia got up from the rock and stopped him midstep by gently grabbing his wrist. They stared in amazement at where their bodies touched and then at each other, replacing their frustration with smiles. I knew how they felt. Well, okay, I didn't exactly know, but I knew how it was supposed to feel, having heard but mostly read about it.

Dhalia and Tristan were obviously mates, their senses heightened by the mere proximity of their fated one, and even the slightest touch would send joyful shivers throughout their bodies. Nothing or no one else ever mattered as much as your fated mate as soon as you found each other. Even I got butterflies when witnessing a real-life rom-com materialising in front of my eyes. However, it sounded more like a romantic drama than a happy-go-lucky rom-com since something was amiss with the couple on the ground beneath me.