The Unforgiving Moon

51.

The sun stood lower already, and the golden hues around us now exploded in many differents shades of oranges, soft reds and pinks. Some elegant clouds were draped around the sun, in a stark, pristine white against the colorful sky.

"We're meeting a potential foe tomorrow," Aven said.

I gulped. "I thought we were headed there for an alliance?"

He sighed, and clenched his jaw—the tiniest bit. "I think our chances are rather slim. Our best bet is to fool Beckett and to force Scent Moon's hand that way, but on their own I do not think they will ally themselves with us."

I nodded. "Then we will fool Beckett."

Aven glanced my way, his stare as icy as ever. "You, out of everyone, know that's not such an easy task. Cailean has been right on that part—the enemy cannot see any shifts between us, any cracks in our united front."

That was why he had taken me aside—talked to me privately, to resolve any issues before they would explode in front of the wrong people. 

Aven swallowed, and I followed the bob of his throat as he said, "Dell had caught on. I was able to blame it on your bond with Jerr, but we will not have that luxury with Lisa."

I lowered my head, and said, "You are my Alpha-"

But Aven immediately cut me off, his tone sharp and stern. "We are not simply an Alpha and his subject, Sari," he said, in between clenched teeth. The sky seemed to turn darker with his mood—or perhaps that was just my perception. He took a second to gather himself, and I did the same as I tucked away the darkness in me in the corners of my soul.

"What I mean to say," he eventually continued, the annoyance less in his tone though not entirely gone, "while I am your Alpha, the origins of your blessing has made it clear you are not merely an ordinary member of my pack. Thus, you are not treated as such. I have not given you an official ranking, but that does not mean your value to me is as little as an ordinary farmer in the outback villages."

I hm-ed, because I did not know what else to say. I was sure Cailean had mingled himself in Aven's thoughts on this—this whole conversation reeked of him. I was no less thankful for it, though. 

After a brief silence, Aven resumed talking. "We will start training again, as soon as we leave Scent Moon. I expect this time around to experience less... resistance against my methods."

"I will not kill innocents," I said again. 

Aven shot me another glare, his eyes narrowed. Even through his slits, I could still very clearly see the raging silver twirl. "I have never asked you to kill innocents."

My shoulders hunched the slightest bit—and I wanted to shrink in myself even more than earlier. "Not yet," I said with a small voice. He had not asked such a thing of me—but he had implied many times it would be inevitable in the course of war. That had been our main disagreement—my main point of resistance. I refused to be turned into a weapon against my will, I would not be used as a sword to slice off the heads of the innocents, of the undeserving who suffered the most in this war.

"If you have such a bad image of me and my pack, why did you decide to join us?" he asked.

I would be truthful—deep down I knew he knew the answer to this question already, anyway. But I could word it more kindly, I thought, to lessen the blow, to diminish the sting of the traitorous words. "You were the only one who dared oppose Beckett."

Aven tsk-ed and shook his head. "You have had plenty of chances to run. You know as well as I that Cailean would harbour you in his lands, so you wouldn't even have to go completely rogue. Still, time and time again, you have decided to stay. Why?"