Chapter fourteen:
Cyra held a steady pace as she loped through the trees; her paws making pushing the mud and the grass beneath her behind, her thick, black fur grazing against the dark browned Wolf every now and then as the spaces between the trees got closer. Sebastian closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of the fresh air he was breathing in with the gentle, calm breezes of wind making a rustling sound as it swept through his fur. This was the time of the day he most loved. He turned his head to his side and saw Cyra distractedly running alongside him.
He nudged his shoulder into hers and yapped, trying to get her attention. Her eyes met his but in her animalistic form, he couldn't properly decipher what was going through her head. He tilted his head to scrutinise her but she only let out a slow breath of air—what he assumed was a sigh—and looked ahead at their path again. He wanted to ask her if everything was okay but there was no way he could ask her—he couldn't wait till they went back to the Packhouse because he knew she had work right after she got back and he didn't want to disturb her. He thought of letting the matter drop till some later time but he didn't want to. He could see how upset she seemed. The way she kept her gaze so steely when she always was so playful with him.
He pushed himself harder as he got in front of her and blocked her path. In her absent mindedness, she didn't see him and crashed into him but braced herself before she could topple over as she stood right back up. She barked at him. He could read what she meant. What?
Not knowing how to reply, he only looked at her. What's wrong? He wanted to ask but didn't know how.
She tore her eyes away from his as she looked up at the perfect moon high up in the sky. What was the use? Is it all really worth it?
She lowered her head to meet his eyes again as he nudged her with snout. She sighed, again. Without any preamble, she had shifted from into her human self.
"Sebastian, do you think I'm a bad person?" She whispered, once again, looking up at the moon.
She only heard the snaps of his bones breaking and rearranging and his voice followed next. "On the contrary, Cyra, you're the most amazing person I've met."
Her eyes met his as she tried to read his emotions.
"Cyra, is everything alright?" He asked, worry swimming in his eyes, when she remained quiet.
"I... don't know," she truthfully replied. Her feelings were in a whirlwind and she didn't quite understand them herself.
"Tell me what's bothering you," he softly said, taking a step closer to her.
"There's so much," she said sounding exasperated.
"It's a good thing, then, that we have all night," he gave her a smile, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She rubbed her arm, hesitantly looking at him as she nibbled her lip. When his stance didn't falter, the words tumbled out of her mouth. "I killed so many Wolves—so many of my own kind; you must think me a monster. I'm pretty sure everybody else does."
A Wolf fight had been unheard of in decades—especially one with so many casualties. The Wolves had resorted to living in harmony, if not in peace and as soon as the news of today would reach the rest of the Packs in their realm by tomorrow, it would create turmoil, for a long time too. But it wasn't her fault.
"Cyra, nobody blames you. You were brave and fierce in protecting your Pack," he reassured her.
"You don't understand! I don't give two fucks about whether or not they blame me. I broke so many families today, Sebastian." She tried hard to congeal herself but her voice ended up breaking.
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The Prodigal Descendant (AlphaxOmega) | ✔
WerewolfSpin-off to 'HIS LUNA'. Can be read as a stand-alone book. COMPLETED * Cyra Bree King is the Alpha of the Pack Full Moon; the descendant of one of the strongest and most important bloodlines. An arrogant and callous woman with a heart of gold. Her...