The Hunter's Wolf

Unlikeliest of Friends

Unlikeliest of Friends

"Close your mouth, Jules. You don't want to catch flies."

She sobers up, as I told her to, and clamps her jaws, but the look of skepticism perseveres, her mind processing the odds. "Are you serious ?" She asks disbelievingly, but when she sees that I remain adamant, serenity personified, she turns tongue-tied.

"Hey," I start, "Relax. The more you fear, the more your mind will choose the reckless decisions."

"Relax ?" She repeats after me and raises her voice, "You want me to relax when the Alpha treats his own mate this way ?!"

"Yes," I say frankly.

"What makes you think I could stand a chance against them ?" She exasperates, and her eyes are jumping all over the place.

I give her a reassuring smile, "I know nothing makes any sense right now, but just trust me, and calm down."

Nobody knows the future, and I am no clairvoyant. Everything I say might not flow exactly how the future wants it, but it is the truth.

A few hours after she eases down, the guards enter the prison with their powerful gaits and stand-offish stances. They head towards Jennifer, and she shares a look with me.

The pity that swirls her eyes, the sympathy she feels for me; these emotions are known as a liability to the world that I lived in. In the association, the women have to adapt, they have to match with the men; to be as strong, and as equally independent, because later on in the battlefield, the targets are the top priority. Having seen like that by Jennifer, I try not to take it as a mockery, but rather as an act of care.

Through the hours of waiting, the sun begins to rise and a new day dawns. Slender lines of sunlight manage to find a way to break into the prison, brightening some corners. Tiny particles of dust float randomly, visible only in the path of the rays. The intensity of the light increases, and muffled sounds of crickets and toads and exotic birds goes through the roofs, some crickets even crawl to make their ways into the cellars.

I have not heard anything from Jennifer afterwards, not even with Bryon's aid of assistance.

He has the sharpest senses around, a perk he got as a result of his own talent in sniffing out which meals contain traces of Wolfsbane in them. Fortunately, he is willing to give a helping hand and put those enhanced senses of his to good use. What shocks me most is that he is doing this in his own pure will, without his eyes set on a prize of any value.

He must have been struck by lightning the other night.

"I've got good news for you," he informs me, "Twelve days until your release."

Forty-five days never fly so fast. It feels as if it was yesterday I was thrown here, injected by some kind of strength suppression formula, and now, in less than two weeks, I will finally be free from this purgatory. Secretly rejoicing in the silence, I try not to get ahead of myself and initiate a conversation.

"Putting that aside," I say, my mind now curious about Bryon. "What are you ?"

He gives me a weird look. "A wolf," he answers, "Used to be a pack mate."

"No, I mean, what was your rank in the pack ? You know all those stuff with the Wolfsbane, and your wolf doesn't seem to be affected much," I give him an overview of what I have been observing throughout the night.

He gazes into my eyes for a brief moment and the corner of his mouth tugs to a small grin. "You ask a lot of demanding questions for someone who didn't answer any of mine," he accuses, but gives me the joy to my curiosity.