The Wolf of the Wilds

The One Left Behind

Hello. Just as a beginning note, I want to thank everyone for getting WotW to 75K reads! To celebrate, I'm releasing this short story that takes place about 6 months before the beginning of this story. It should be spoiler free if you're up to date on the chapters and it follows Adrian through some difficult times. 

Enjoy!

Tugging the fur coat tighter to his body, he hunched his shoulders, burying his nose into the scarf he had fastened around his throat. His ears were pink from the harsh bitter wind, flecks of snow collecting in his hair.

To his left was the valley and the white painted buildings of the Montis. To his right was the heavy metallic bars of the territory's borders. Each step dragged, the heavy blanket of snow clinging to his boots.

As his skin became numb to the cold, he regretted his decision to come out here. Then again, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Coming to a small grove of trees, each standing bare and crooked, his steps slowed. His breaths grew louder as he moved beneath the canopy. One foot in front of the other.

In the centre, a stone peaked from beneath the white. Adrian approached and went about the slow task of clearing away the snow one handful at a time. It was slightly worn. Names etched into the stone. A date.

Nearby was a rotting tree trunk. He sat down with a sigh, hiding his hands under his armpits. "Hello Mum," he began, swallowing thickly. "It's been a while. Two decades since I've seen you actually."

His eyes were fixed on the stone and he sniffed, unsure of whether it was because of the cold or the onslaught of emotion that came crashing over him.

"Things haven't changed much since last time I'm afraid. Being beta is pretty much everything I expected it to be and still no sign of a mate. I've met a lovely woman though. She's got no mate either and she's kind, cheerful and smart. Her name is Kyra. I think you'd like her if you'd had the chance to meet her."

When he fell silent, his lips were parted, and he stared at the grave. His breaths came out as a billowing mist, before dissolving away into nothingness again.

Even after so much time, the slight stinging of tears prickled at his eyes and he took a moment to wipe his cheeks.

...

The sounds of his quill's scratches were loud against the background of Friday evening celebrations outside. The breaking of bottles, of laughter and horribly off pitch singing had become familiar after all of this time. At one time he'd often been jealous of his fellows, but now he rested easy in the knowledge that the people of his pack were content.

Humming under his breath, he signed the document he'd been working on and turned to the next one. An external trade request. How fun.

It was several hours later when the soft click of his front door roused him from his work. Placing his quill down, he pushed out his chair and stretched. He padded over to his office's door, peering into the entrance hall.

"Evening. Have a good day?" he asked, leaning against the frame.

Kyra looked up, her long hair tied up into its usual bun. Something was wrong though. Her fidgeting fingers and the chewing of her bottom lip caught his attention. Grimacing up at him, she placed down her bag.

"I found my mate today," she said, ringing her hands. "He's a trader from a foreign pack." Her usually lively voice was left sullen.

Adrian was still as he stared at her. His mouth was dry, as if filled with balls of cotton. "Ah," was the only response he could muster in the moment. Swallowing, he got a little closer. "Is he...everything you'd hoped?"