Pack and Pride

Chapter 7 Argra

I speed down the back roads of my territory in my 1965 Thunderbird convertible toward the meeting ground. The alarm scared the daylights out of me when it went off. I grabbed my Beta, Neil, threw on the ceremonial clothing my father would wear to meetings and the crown on my head before jumping into the car and speeding away. The crown is made of gold and is inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. Spires curve inward like the claw of wolves. My wolf paces in my head, agitated and nervous.

With the top down on the convertible the wind howls in my ears. Dawn has just broken, I hope I'm not too late. A car revs it's engine next to me and I glance over quickly. A big black jeep.

Matrim's cousin, Angela, is driving. I did not know she was his second. I also did not know women could climb so high in the bear clan. As much as Matrim is my friend, I cannot help but snarl softly. Women should remain at home (NOT MY VIEW JUST CHARACTER).

The flat road of my land begins to slope upward as the ancient house comes into view. I give my classic car more gas to get us up the hill. The grey stones get closer and closer and we hurtle up the roads at 90 miles per hour, not too late. Can't be too late. Whatever the emergency is, I pray we made it.

I slam on the breaks just sort of the building, throw the car into park and leap over the side of it. Mat's car pulls up behind me and he jumps out of the passenger door in his fathers clothes. An ancient coat with no sleeves. It drapes down to his thighs and slits a cut from the waste down to make walking easier. His crown is brass and instead of spires, the pieces jutting up are squared off, reminding me of a castle tower. I nod to him, nothing but business in my expression. Angela wears a light, black leather jacket, snug black pants and and black tunic. She lifts her black sunglasses from her eyes and glances over at me. Her usual smiles and laughter is replaced by solemn cold. She gives my second and I a nod before following her chief to their respected door.

My ceremonial clothing is a tight tunic with two black leather bands criss crossed over my chest and imbedded with small jewels. On the shoulders, a silver colored cape is draped behind me. "To remind our enemies that we have looked our weakness in the eyes and said 'I am not afraid of you'" my fathers voice rings in my head. My Beta stands behind me and to the right. I watch as Mat and Angela walk to
Their own entrance of the ancient building.

I walk slowly to the door, taking air deep into my lungs as I do, I can smell the lion here already and the eagle too. A low growl escapes my lips. Of course they would be here. And of course they would be here first. I try to hide my hatred as another scent hits my nose. A scent of apple cider and crisp winter days. I shake my head at it and roll my shoulders.

A place of peace and civility. Neutrality. No fighting here. Ancient spells won't allow it even if we wanted to. I reach the door and place a hand on the old wood, remembering the last time I was here. Remembering the weight of the crown as it was first placed on my head. Remembering how I had to go tell my mother the man she loved most was dead. I straighten my spine and push it open, it is as if the scene before me appears in slow motion.

Mat is already inside; sitting, back rigid, and staring at the head of the weareagles. She wears her mothers clothing, I recognize the cunning mind behind her cool exterior mask. I recognize the girl who had the courage to demand the blood price. She looks the same, for the most part. Her eyes perhaps the only difference. They look... older. Wiser. As if I'm the few years that have gone by she has learned the secrets of the world. Mat glares daggers at the girl, I know the tight leash he must have on his bear right now, knowing the girl who killed demanded his mothers head and his fathers sanity is right in front of him. She glances at me a moment, and then dismisses me as if I am a piece of dust on her coat. My wolf growls inside my head at the arrogance of the gesture.

Neil enters before me and scopes out the room, his body currently blocking wear the pride leader is sitting. Something in me stirs, needing to see that cruel face. Needing to look into those damned eyes again. If only to remind myself she is real. That she is the devil I always knew her to be. I step into the room and it is like stepping back in time.

It has not changed since it was built. My heavy boot thuds on the wood, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. If I did not know better, I could forget what year it is. I could forget that cars and phones and lights exist. I could think that I am in the medieval era when the territories were first decided. I could think that any number of cobra shifters would emerge in the forest. Not just the one. Their king. When the ancient war happened, they took the most casualties. They untied us and brought us to war. All of us. They were strong fighters, but fell in the end. After that, any semblance of unity disintegrated.

The ancient king is in his cobra form still. Coiled up on that odd floating pillow. His green scales have not dulled since the last time I saw him. His eyes are fixed on me, his old eyes. Whatever force keeps him alive is contained in his red eyes that look as though smoke is swirling under them. Perhaps it is contained to this room. I take another step into the room, the door now swinging shut behind me. My Beta is still blocking the lion girl as I approach.

Ever the diplomat, Neil attempts to mask his scent of hatred. I can smell it, ever so faintly. Perhaps I should ask him to teach me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Angela, who I have always know to plop into any chair available, remains standing behind her chief. Feet splayed shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind her back. She stares ahead, indifferent. No matter how she stands, I can see her muscles tensed to lunge in front of Mat should the need arise.

I see the lion girls Beta, or second, or whatever they call him, next. He stares at me with a cold fire in his eyes. So he is not her mate, as I thought he was, but simply her second. Interesting. Though, if he was her mate, he would be wise to leash the spit fire girl.

Neil finally moves for me, pulling out the chair as he does so that I may sit. That scent of apple cider and winter hits me again. Wafting through the air filled with scents of hate and all the types of shifters. I sit down and scan the only person I've yet to see in the room.

Finally, my eyes travel to the lion girl. Her brown hair pinned down by the band she calls a crown. The emerald of it makes her eyes appear all the more vivid.

As our eyes meet, the scent hits me in full force. Her eyes widen and a shocked almost outrage paints her features as she hisses "you?!"

At the same time, a word is choked out of my throat before I realize it. It echoes within the room. "Mate."

Ohhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh didn't see that coming did ya? Or maybe you did lol. Let me know if you like the chapter. Also I really wanted to end it on this cu I'm cruel haha ok well anyway, hope you keep reading :)