The Invitation (II)

The princess frowned at him. She halted in her footsteps for a while, which caused Mordeu to snicker. However, she did not back out; she walked straight in with her followers, unbendable like titanium.

"So you mean to tell me I can slap that princess and wouldn't get punished for hitting a royal?" a girl asked Mordeu.

Mordeu did not bother to look at her face; he was busy laughing boisterously at what he had heard her say.

The sound of his laughter caused Lord Alvitir and his followers to focus their attention on them. The Lord was accompanied by two prominent figures; one was a white-haired boy with boring eyes bearing the same color with his hair. He looked worn out just by listening to Mordeu laugh. The other was a stern looking girl with hair the colour of the earth, bright forest green eyes like Lord Alvitir.

Mordeu could see a resemblance between the three of them.

A low growl wafted into his ears, and he knew for certain it did not come from him. Still, he had to turn around and check because it was dangerously close to him.

The growl had come from Fjall. And he was standing, rooted beside a girl; his attention was locked on the Alvitir family ahead, and Mordeu could recognize the look of lust in his eyes as he stared.

"My mate," Fjall snarled, still lost in a trance as he stared ahead. His eyes were filled with a hunger that food could not satiate. It slightly terrified Mordeu, but what could he do?

Mordeu curiously followed his gaze, and what was staring back at him was a pair of green eyes. The mate Fjall was referring to was looking at them, lost in her own head. 

He knew she was lost because her family had gone ahead, and she was rooted in that spot, staring right towards them. Her eyes were dancing between the both of them; he recognized the look of uncertainty in them, but he remained shut.

Sooner or later, she'll be able to detect who she was longing after.

A smile graced Mordeu's face as he clapped a hand around Fjall's shoulders. "Congratulations, my brother, you have found yourself a mate, and not just a random, ordinary mate, a mate from an esteemed, dignified family like the Alvitir."

The girl beside them found the humor in what he said; she laughed. "You should keep this little discovery to yourself till you find out if she also feels such for you. If she doesn't, it would be a very stupid fight to try to win her."

The Alvitir girl was gone, and Fjall was back in his senses. "What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"She's a rich girl, and from the way you smell like, you are not rich," the girl scrunched her nose after sniffing Fjall.

Fjall was shocked; he brought his nose to his underarm, "are you saying I stink?"

The girl sighed, "I'm saying you don't smell rich."

Mordeu laughed. In his heart, he felt happy for his brother, but at the same time, also pitied him. Finding a mate was something any wolf prayed for. Unfortunately for Fjall, he longed for a woman that was far above his social standards, and not just that, a woman who was agnostic regarding where her desires lied.

The trio decided to leave the topic at that, and they went through the gateway after flashing their invitation cards for the guard to see.

After the gateway, they still had to climb a good number of stairs before reaching the top of the mountain where the training camp was situated.

The buildings were made of white gravel, which was new to both Mordeu and Fjall as the village they were from was so wretched their houses were made of wood. The poor kind.

Mordeu had never seen skies so blue before in his life, and the clouds were so white he felt like he could touch them. The place smelled of fruits and rich air; his senses had never met something so divine in his life, and for a moment, he was lost in the beauty of everything.

"This place is amazing," their new friend, Alana, said before he could. After necessary introductions, they learned that she was a witch and she had gotten the invitation the normal way others had.

Fjall and Mordeu could not share with her how they came about their invitation; it was a silent agreement to keep it just between themselves.

They saw the Alvitir family standing on a pedestal with the Lord in the middle and up front and his children behind him.

Instinctively, they walked towards where the pedestal was situated and waited for the others to arrive. It didn't take long, and Alvitir started his speech.

"I welcome you all to the training camp of Belvot Mountain, where you all will train to become fighters, warriors of the goddess. You all, one way or another, must've received the invitation to train here in these grounds, and so, I personally welcome you," he bowed.

The only voice that could be heard was Alvitir's as the rest of the wolves and witches all respected him enough not to make a sound. However, Mordeu could hear the rapid beating of a heart, and without looking, he knew whose it was.

Fjall was lost again, the feral nature of his wolf almost taking over as he watched his newfound mate stand on the pedestal looking towards his direction. The longing he was feeling was overwhelming, so strong that Mordeu vaguely felt he could feel it too.

He draped a hand over Fjall's shoulder, "Calm it down, brother, do not ruin any opportunity you might have," he whispered.

"I know she can feel it too," Fjall groaned as he tilted his head towards her for Mordeu to see.

Mordeu looked over to where she stood, and like his gaze was on her, hers was on him, and he couldn't help it, his lips curved into a smile.

"Still, hold it in," he whispered again before laying his focus back on Alvitir.

Unfortunately, the speech was already over.

He knew Fjall did not get anything that Alvitir had said, so he turned to Alana. "What did he say?"

"Training starts in two days; preparations have to be made to fit our new guests," her eyes moved behind him. He knew who she was looking at.

"You can take our hormonal teen to his room. There's a number on your card; it's your room number," Alana explained before she went off to find her own room.

Mordeu led the exhausted Fjall to the housing buildings where he searched around for their room number. When he found it, he wasted no time, and they both entered.

Fjall collapsed on the bed and drifted off to sleep immediately. The journey had been long for them and very tiring for Fjall himself. For Mordeu, he was excited; this was his life for a while, and so far, it wasn't horrible.

He too, drifted off to sleep.

The sound of warning bells and screams woke Mordeu up from his slumber. He jumped to his feet and looked around the room, but Fjall was nowhere around. Panic gripped him as hard as a baby gripping her blanket, but he decided to stay clear-headed and check outside before he loses his cool.

He was right to wait; as he stepped outside, he saw Fjall in the crowd, and his raging heart was put to calm. The sun had set and given way to the stars. The courtyard was illuminated by lanterns burning on every pillar available on every building, and it felt like morning all over again.

Regarding the gathered crowd, Mordeu was curious; he made his way over to where Fjall stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. Fjall turned around in alert, almost scaring Mordeu, but then he relaxed as he saw it was only his brother.

"What's going on?" Mordeu asked.

"The son of Alvitir was attacked by assassins."