On the Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 2

I stared blankly at the man before me. He, just like his wolf, had stark white hair that had nothing to do with age. His crimson eyes darkened even further. He towered before me, all lean and athletic. 

"Excuse me?" I said, shifting my feet and keeping my eyes down as to not provoke him. The man stepped forward, muscles rippling under the light shredded by evergreens. 

"Mine," He repeated, voice deep and husky. His eyes were animalistic, driven strictly by his wolf. My stomach clenched uncomfortably, and I stepped back. 

The man continued on, his gaze focused and primal. He continued to trek ahead until he passed right by me. I stared ahead, confused, before whipping my face around to be met with another figure I had not noticed. 

Another female. Another female.

I found myself struck by the realization. I hadn't seen another female in nearly seven years. The girl was small and timid. She sported large, doe-like eyes and a button nose. Her chocolate hair was cut uneven, falling just below her jaw line. 

She would have been lovely had she not been covered in layers of dirt. She was thin, freakishly thin. Bags lay under her eyes, dark and haunting. 

She swayed a bit on her feet, but never fell. She stared intensely at the man before her. The height difference between them was shocking, and the man had to bend down nearly two feet to meet her eyes.

"Mine," he growled again, flecks of gold dancing about his crimson orbs. The small girl visibly shuddered, and stumbled. The man caught her before she could fall and picked her up, turning and walking away into the forest. 

"Beta," One of the wolves called. "What do we do with the other girl?" The white haired man paused for a moment, eyes now completely encased with gold and let out a rippling growl.

"Chain her and take her to the church," He rumbled, then stalked away. A church didn't sound so bad, but when I scanned the other wolves present they all seemed pensive and uncomfortable. I thought perhaps the males were gonna turn me into a nun, however there seemed to be much more to the story.

         The walk to the church was gruesome. The ground was spongy, wet, and moved like a nature-born slushy. Mud caked my calves and my legs labored against the weight of it all on me. 

I nearly collapsed a few times only to be pulled up by the discipline collar around me neck. The collar was made of metal and clenched nightly around me, a chain protruding from the front. It was made to stop wolves from transforming and to block the wearer's thoughts from their wolf. 

If the person wearing the collar tried to remove it, they would be met with a very painful and harsh end. 

I mused over the thought that I was part of the last females and that they treated my like this. Was it not important to procreate and keep the wolf community alive? What would happen if I fell in this slosh-pit, or got an infection that enabled me infertile? What would happen then? 

Men were so arrogant and irritating, and unreasonable. Though, I suppose I couldn't blame all of them. Many were simply following orders, just like the young wolven warriors surrounding me. 

We continued the treacherous pace, until the sight of a European style church stood before me, large, magnificent, and intimidating. Golden beams shone in the evening sun and delicate archways decorated the white building's exterior. 

Various arrangements of angel sculptures spotted the top of the building, some missing different body, a sure sign of the church's age. At the peak of the church stood a large golden cross, a sculptured man pinned to it, its brilliance shining over the holy grounds like god himself was perched upon it.