A PACK OF WEREWOLVES

October 5th, xxxx

ONE WOULD THINK THE world is ending if they venture anywhere near the Winter Forest; forest of dense, imposing trees, leaves spiky like the sting of a silver blade, of air so sharp a statue could freeze.

Of soil whiter than snow, softer than the clouds, a hideout for colourless bugs and termites, home to snowdrops and white foxes.

In the Winter Forest, everyone is as equal as the wild wolves that roam it—protectors of the land, guardians of the moon. When the forest breathes, the trees whistles and the owls soar overhead—a silent watch.

For as long as the forest has stood, for as long as the trees have lived, a day doesn't go by without the earth quaking, for there is a saying that 'when two or three wolves gather, the world feels as if it is ending'.

Eleven Shifters—none in their full form but a paw here, hind legs there—shifting effortlessly between wolf and human engaged in a physical altercation. Werewolf vs werewolf. North Star Pack vs Blue Sun Pack.

Kamil sees the fist lunge at him just as he's shaking the ringing in his ears. He moves to dodge but he isn't fast enough and fist meets bone, the force of it jolts him back, knocking air out of him.

His opponent rushes at him, grabs him by the waist and slams him so hard on the ground he feels the cold trail of blood matting his hair.

Lifting his knee, Kamil hits his opponent hard in the throat making him stumble. Unable to deflect the kick that flies in his chest, he crashes to the ground.

A loud growl has Kamil whipping his head to the sound to find the Captain smashing two heads together, the force of it wobbling his stance.

Distracted, his opponent punches Kamil hard on the nose and the ringing in his ears intensifies; he hears the wild beating of his heart, the breaking of bones, the whacking of a tree branch to someone's head but he shakes it off, ignores it as the Shifter thinking he'd won rushes at him, leaving himself wide open.

Big mistake, Kamil thinks. Timing it perfectly, he throws a vicious, skillful blow at his nose—bone meets bone, he hears the satisfying crunch as the Shifter falls to the ground, a painful growl so loud it could scratch iron bellows out.

One eye shut, cheeks scratched, head bleeding and guts burning, Kamil staggers towards the howling Shifter, grabs him by the hair and hammers his head so hard into the ground his scream halts everyone.

Breathing hard, his eyes finds the shocked expression of the Blue Sun instigator in the grip of the Captain who nods in his direction, a wild-eyed Shifter's arm locked by another soldier blinks, her face the carbon copy of blood.

In a furious state of embarrassment, the instigator bangs her head into the Captain's face subsequently freeing herself and lurches her paws towards him, scratching him in the chest.

Kamil remains where he is, noticing that even though they are outnumbered seven to four, they are holding their own. The Shifter slumped on the ground makes whimpering noises, face buried in his palms. In a similar position, another weakly crawls like a snail, trying to escape his attention.

He moves to drag her back by the legs but notes that the fight is basically over. Him and the two others have successfully subdued their adversaries but the instigator and Captain are still stubbornly going at it, each not considering the fight finished until one begs for mercy.

Territory is a bone of contention between their pack and the Blue Sun for almost a century and it'll continue to be because the Blue Sun bullheaded Alpha refuses to make amends.

But what he does is send eager trigger-happy omegas to infiltrate their territory to ̶a̶t̶t̶e̶m̶p̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ hassle their Alpha. It is starting to look very pathetic, actually.

To be exact, Kamil isn't talking about the Winter Forest. No one but the wild wolves, the plants and animals own it. It's the canyon that surrounds their land—the North Star land that Blue Sun believes belongs to them.

A river runs across their land through the canyon surrounding the expansive land in its four corners—north, south, east, west, waterfall like locks of hair at the southern edge.

Because of the wideness of the canyon, its hills and the existence of the everflowing waterfall stops just a bit into the Blue Sun territory.

That's the claim the Blue Sun Pack has been running with for almost a century. The argument is the part of the canyon that have settled right into their land is their Goddess given right.

Therefore, altercations like this is a frequent happening. Blue Sun omegas hassle their Alpha, aggressive betas like these think they can come and finish the job.

Just because their Alpha is amused at the audacity of the omegas, the betas think they can come quarrel whenever they're bored?

Rolling out the chinks in his neck, Kamil catches the smirk playing on Anduan's lips. A quarrel doesn't even describe it. A squabble really. He reciprocates the smirk but it slides off immediately when the hairs on his neck rises, nose wrinkling, ears pricking.

Everyone feels the presence too because they stop, staring over his shoulder to the Alpha striding towards them, the brightest shade of the moon highlighting the wine of his suit, the black of his hair, the red of his eyes and the glint of his fangs.

When the Alpha stops right below the luminescence of the moon, their breath hitches at the whimpering omega clenched on by his hair, the smell of urine and blood polluting the air.

The Alpha, tall and muscular scowls, angry gaze zeroing in on the instigator clenching her jaw.

He comes forward—the Alpha—throws the omega to the ground towards her but neither move to one another. Stretching his arms wide, his lips curl in a snarl.

"Here I am. Finish the job, beta."

His voice is flat, almost dull in its utterance but Kamil hears the underlying strength in it, in a voice that all Alphas seem to be born with—a reckon to be heard.

The Captain leaves the side of the beta but doesn't come closer to the Alpha. The instigator notice the subtle message—that they're outnumbered, Alpha to seven.

"What is this? You don't want to?" mocking, he waits, a beat, two but the betas (at least those that can stand) slinker behind the instigator.

Impatient, the Alpha stomps to the beta, grabs her by the chin and presses, hard enough to threaten the breaking of bone. From the corner of his eye, Kamil sights the shifters painstakingly stand on swaying legs, dejectedly limping past the Alpha to the beta.

"Ten days. Ten. Are you so much of a savage that you can't not start a fight? Your coming here is a blatant disrespect of the ten day pact your Alpha agreed to."

Another subtle message. Your Alpha isn't a wolf of his word.

"Pathetic," the Alpha flings her head away. "I'll be having a word with your Alpha at dawn. You lot ought to be disciplined."

A head gesture, the North Star wolves shifts into full form, howled, growled before chasing the intruders out of the territory leaving of course the omega who shrinks when the Alpha turns around, stammers when the Captain yanks him up by the collar.

"Goddess, stay still, you'll hurt yourself," to the Alpha, he says, "See. This is the reason why you need security. These omegas won't stop—"

"Camuel," the Alpha starts off in a warning tone, "Are you suggesting I can't handle an omega? That what? They'll succeed if I'm alone?"

"You're always alone. I'm worried for your safety."

"Really? I thought that's why our defences is weak. Because you're worried about me."

"The fuck— You know our numbers are insufficient—"

"Which is why a security detail would be wasted on me!"

An everyday argument between brothers. Camuel believes the soldiers are for the Alpha before anyone else and the Alpha commands the soldiers are for the Pack's safety before his.

And Kamil? As the Major, third-in-command to the Captain and the Alpha, he's often placed in the middle more times than he can count.

If not for the Blue Sun Pack being so closely located, he wouldn't be spending every waking hour concerned about the vulnerability of their security.

"Just because the blood on you now isn't yours doesn't— For the love of Goddess, stop squirming, will you!" he barks at the omega who immediately goes still.

"Right. Fidgety omegas are threatening. Get the fuck out of here."

Grunting, Camuel drags the omega away muttering, violently cursing the omega's future and past descendants. Foul mouth, that one.

Silently, Kamil falls in step with the Alpha as they walk away from the forest towards the settlement.

The white forest changes the further they leave it behind, trees becomes less clustered, leaves drier, broader and harmless; the earth humid, air so cool and light that when he expels a breath, his chest expands.

Instead of stepping out into the community, they go around and emerge in the lake of lilies, the moon's illumination on the lake reflecting like glittering sapphires.

When he inhales, the constriction around his heart loosens—staying too long in the Winter Forest can stop beating hearts.

"It's so peaceful without Cam's barking."

Kamil peeks at the Alpha staring into the face of the moon, the richness of his golden-brown skin glowing.

By now, the bruises Kamil suffered in the fight has healed, the blood has dried and the ringing in his ears has dulled but he can still feel the sting in his nose, the itch in his eyes, the burn of his knuckles.

They stay like that for a while, just appreciating the beauty and quietness of the night, fresh air wisping around them like flashing fog.

Cutting the calmness short, the Alpha takes a step back, nods in his direction and bids a, "Good night, Kamil" before walking away.