Cranky on Me

~Natakha~

It was not often for Natakha to be in the presence of her alpha; she had hardly seen the man two or three times in her entire life span as a hunter-- a tall man with a bulky built, thick black hair and steely eyes. It was only natural then, that she felt jittery sitting in the few chairs around a small table, where the alpha of their pack, Alpha Alexeev, along with his Beta, the pack Sentinels, the pack Scouts and the pack Hunters were assembled. When Zhanna and she had entered the small cabin, a few chairs had still been empty. But in mere minutes, they were filled by pack members who came in after them. Dmitri and Stanislav had still not arrived, however, and the fact made her smirk victoriously.

When a guard finally shut the door to the cabin, all the chairs in the room were taken, and a few wolves were left standing around them. As soon as the door had shut, their alpha addressed them.

"Good evening to all of you," Alpha Alexeev began in a calm voice, yet Natakha felt the hair at the back of her neck rise. She realized then that she had been feeling nervous not just because she didn't get to see the man often, but also because he was an alpha, and his rank gave him an aura of authority that only an alpha could command.

"On a lighter note, to begin with, you have been called here this evening to let you know," he continued, "that on our journey to Ekaterinburg, we will be gathering numbers as we pass through other packs along the way.

"The first pack that lies in our route to Ekaterinburg, and to which we are currently journeying, is the Pack of Petrozavodsk. We will be staying there when we reach it, in five days' time, to rest ourselves, our horses and to gather resources we might have run out of till that time.

"Now I would also like to bring to your notice that we will be among werewolves of a different pack, werewolves we have never been in contact with, and it will not come as a surprise to us," he gestured to himself and a few other mated members at the table, "if you found your mate during your stay there, or at any other pack at which we might stay before finally reaching Ekaterinburg. So be vigilant, and keep your eyes and noses sharp because you might just find your mate sooner than you think."

The gleam of excitement in the eyes of the unmated wolves in the room was unmistakable.

"On a more serious note," said Alpha Alexeev, "I want to ask you to look around and notice, that the only wolves I have called for this meeting are Sentinels, Scouts and Hunters. Well, that is for an important reason that I wish to discuss with only these three ranks so as to not spread panic among the rest of the pack."

Everyone in the room exchanged worried glances.

Alpha Alexeev looked at each of them in the eye with a sombre look on his face.

"As you all know, we have… other wolves, down south, in Mongolia. Their alpha, Alpha Gan, is growing older, and his pack, which covers almost the entire country of Mongolia, is beginning to border on a state of upheaval.

"There has been news of his son, soon-to-be alpha Altan, who is a source of worry for us all here in Russia. Threat is imminent in the air," he said, and took in the thoughtful look on the features of some of the Scouts.

"I know that some of you may be thinking that Mongolia is on the border of the Pack of Khabarovsk, under the able leadership of Alpha Morozov. We, along with all other Russian packs, are thankful to him and his army of wolves for keeping Gan's wolves at bay, but now that Gan's rule is soon to come to an end, his son, Altan, is a serious source of concern for all of Russia.

"He is a cunning, manipulative and ruthless werewolf who cannot be allowed to enter this country, which is exactly what he wants. There is no doubt that he will rule with an iron fist; he will not back down from shedding the blood of his own people if it means gaining power, which is what he seeks. His mate, we have learnt, died a few years ago, and there is absolutely nothing holding him back."

Alpha Alexeev took in a deep breath, shared a few words with his Beta quietly in his ear, then back again.

"That is where you come in. The further we climb down south, the more dangerous it becomes for our entourage, for there is news that the Pack of Samara, at the south-western border, may have given refuge to a few ousted Mongol wolves. Scouts, you have orders to head our entourage with a lead of at least a day. You will survey the route and reach Petrozavodsk first, gather news of the conditions there, if it is safe for us to pass through. If it is, you will greet the pack's Alpha and make our arrival known to him. Ideally, his pack should be ready to be on the go.

"Sentinels, although there is no immediate danger, we cannot be too careful. Thus, you have orders to patrol any clearing that we stay at, and to surround our entourage as we travel. And Hunters, you have orders to be the layer of protection just after the Sentinels. If we ever face an attack, you are the last line of defense between Alpha Gan's wolves and our people."

With that, Alpha Alexeev sat down, and his Beta rose. Natakha still did not know his name, but his handsome round face was one almost every pack member knew-- even the adolescents.

"Well, that is all for now. You may leave and go for a hunt because tonight is our first night of travel. Hence, no travelling in wolf form; you will shift to hunt.

"Also, please keep in mind that while you may share the details of our route to Ekaterinburg and the packs that we will be travelling through with your friends and pack mates, you will not, under any circumstances, share the news of the Gan-and-Altan threat with anyone-"

Suddenly, the door burst open and in came two dishevelled looking boys; Dmitri and Stanislav. When a surprised Natakha laid eyes on the late comers, she had to cover her smile with the back of her hand because of the flustered look on Dmitri's face.

"Good evening, Alpha, Beta," he bowed a short bow to each of the concerned people.

The look on their alpha's face made Natakha think he had tasted something awful, and it seemed to her that he just didn't want to address the boys at all. Mercifully, his Beta spoke instead.

"Why are you late? Have you no knowledge of the fact that being late to any meeting called by your Alpha is disrespect to his honour?" he said, eyeing the boys distastefully.

Dmitri hung his head a little, then said apologetically, "We were, uh, we were unexpectedly detained, Beta."

Natakha and Zhanna trained their eyes on the table as they waited to hear the Beta's reply, but he just waved the boys off and continued where he had left off.

"As I had been saying before this…" he gave the boys a side glance, "interruption, you are not to speak of what has been discussed in the latter part of this meeting with anyone outside this room. Apart from that, if anyone has any questions as to any of the matters discussed in the meeting, you may ask now."

He waited, eyeing everyone in the room, and although Natakha did have a question, she did not ask, and neither did anybody else.

"Well, then. You may leave," the Beta said, making everyone rise from their chairs and begin leaving the cabin.

As she filed out of the room with Zhanna behind her, Natakha didn't know what to take from the meeting; she understood her role as a hunter, and that it was her duty to her people to protect them, but what she didn't understand was why Alpha Gan or his son would attack an entourage on its way to the Annual Ball. They were wolves, too. Didn't they know how sacred, how important this yearly event was? And they were not the only entourage journeying to Ekaterinburg; packs from all over Russia were going. Were those packs arranging the same measures of security? Or was hers the only one? She had a nagging feeling that there was more to the matter than had been discussed with them, but there was nothing she could do about it. If the Alpha and the rest of the pack elite thought that threat was imminent, it would be foolish of her to not heed to their warning, just because she couldn't understand their reasons.

The thought of discussing the matter with Zhanna before they transformed into wolves occurred to her, and when they were out of the cabin-carriage, she turned to Zhanna to talk her thoughts out with her. But as soon as she took one step further on the wet grass, a rough hand grabbed her arm and yanked her around, pulling her behind the carriage.

"Wha-"

Natakha was cut short by a cold faced Dmitri who he pushed her back hard against the carriage's back.

"Hey!" Zhanna shouted after him, but Stanislav blocked her way, standing in front of her with his arms crossed on his chest.

"What the hell, Dmitri?" Natakha spat at him.

"Uh huh, now you want to be mad?"

She glared at him in response.

"Why didn't you wake us up when you left for the meeting?" he growled, glaring back at her.

"We did, you numskull," she growled back, "but we didn't know you hibernate like a bear, instead of sleeping like a werewolf!"

He opened his mouth to retort, eyes shooting daggers into hers, but she was just as defiant.

"Before you get all cranky on me, let me remind you," she said, narrowing her eyes at him, "that I am not your babysitter; it isn't my job to wake you up or get you to go to sleep. And, it isn't my fault that you sleep like a log, and your brother as well."

His jaw ticked as he watched her leave with her friend and join the other wolves in the clearing, who were then all out of their carriages and heading into the forest to transform.

Kicking the grass at his feet angrily, he raked a hand through his hair as he watched her disappear into the forest with her friends, and set off with his brother in another direction to the forest. Oh, how he cursed himself for setting foot at all in her carriage that morning.

*****

"So you mean to say," Varvara whisper-shouted in disbelief, theatrically widening her eyes, "that you tortured the poor guy the entire day?"

Zhanna laughed.

"Not me, her," she pointed at Natakha.

Maria clicked her tongue at that disapprovingly.

And Natakha huffed.

This was not what she had planned that they would be discussing when she and Zhanna told their friends, Maria, Varvara and Ruslana about the meeting at the pack elite's earlier that evening. And sure, now that they were traversing the mushy forest tracks, searching for a nice, big tree behind which they could remove their overcoats, she had told them about the imbeciles they had for carriage-mates. But she had never imagined that that part of the conversation was what would be more pressing for her friends to discuss.

"Can you for once, try to understand my point of view?" she asked the other three, deflated.

"But what is there to understand?" Varvara asked her, as if talking to a child, "you can't do pranks like that, Nat. You shouldn't do pranks like that."

"They-"

"-No excuses, Natakha," warned Maria. "One mustn't be rude to boys."

Natakha's nostrils flared.

"What if he turns out to be your mate?" Ruslana piped in.

At that, however, Natakha stopped in her tracks. Except for Zhanna, it took the girls at least ten seconds to realize that she had stopped walking with them. They turned around, surprise evident on their faces.

"Never," Natakha started in a low, warning tone, "say that again. I know I'm not perfect, but I'm certain that I'm not bad enough to deserve a daft for a mate."

She then marched up to the girls, who smiled at her apologetically, proceeding to approach a big secluded tree. Not a lot of pack members were around that part of the forest.

"Okay, Nat," Maria soothed her sweetly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "but what if he really is your mate? Have you thought about that little chance that he is?"

At that, Natakha shut her eyes with a groan. But before the conversation could take a more uncomfortable turn, Zhanna intervened.

"Yeah, well, he might be her mate, and he might not be her mate," she started, stopping behind a fairly thick barked tree. All five of them swivelled their heads around to see if they were alone; they were. "But what do you think about what we told you about the meeting?"

The other three looked thoughtful as they took their shoes off and stacked them up at the tree's roots.

"I feel as if Alpha Alexeev didn't tell you the whole thing," said Maria cautiously, loosening the belt on her coat.

"Yeah? I think so, too," agreed Natakha. "I mean, fine. Alpha Gan is growing weaker and blah blah blah. Altan should be concerned about the Mongolian throne. If his pack is in so much of a turmoil, why not keep his focus closer to home? Why attack Russian packs, especially entourages on their way to the Annual Ball?"

"Why is his pack in turmoil in the first place?" asked Ruslana, slipping her coat off. "Pack successions are rarely messy; the alpha's son is the future alpha-- simple as that."

"Maybe that isn't how it works in Mongolia?" Varvara put in doubtfully. "And, did you say his mate died a few years ago?"

Natakha let out a long breath when she, too, finally slipped her coat off and piled it near the other girls' coats. It was extremely cold out there in the forest, now that they were completely bare bodied, and she couldn't wait to transform into her wolf form no matter how much she wanted to keep the discussion going.

"She died, yeah," she breathed, shivering, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Let's transform now," Ruslana said, bristling a little when a cold wind whistled past them. "We'll talk about this later. It's freezing out here and I don't want to catch a fever."

The other girls nodded, spreading out to give each other space before they began. But before she started transforming, Natakha heard Maria voice a question that had not occurred to her, and made her wish Maria had not put the thought in her head-

"Now that he doesn't have a mate, do you think Altan might come to the Annual Ball?"

~Alpha Morozov~

"Sofia? Sofia!" a booming voice carried through the window of a royal, orchid colored chariot that whistled through a snowy mountain valley somewhere at the outskirts of Khabarovsk.

Standing in the small balcony beyond the window-door of the chariot were two people; a puny balding man, the charioteer, and a behemoth of a man standing behind him. That man, when he didn't receive a response, turned around and whipped open the window-door, stepping into a small corridor.

"Sofi-" he began again impatiently, but-

"What?" came a young, breathy voice from somewhere inside the huge chariot.

The man scowled.

"How many times do I have to call your name?"

Walking down the corridor, he was into the bedroom in just two paces, and was staring at the far fur-bound wall at the opposite end of the bedroom in annoyance, which appeared to be a separate unit, especially made on Sofia's request as her personal chambers for keeping her clothes, changing and refreshing.

'Huh' he thought to himself, breathing down his nose, 'as if she needed a place away from me to change in.'

Walking around a couch of velvet at the foot of their snug golden bed, which was the same orchid color as the chariot's outer walls, he headed to Sofia's personal chambers.

But she must have heard him approaching, because as soon as he was about to pull the orchid and golden curtains back, she moved.

"Alpha!" Sofia gasped, holding the curtain's end firmly in her hand to stop him from pulling it away. "I'm still changing."

"So? Why do you need to do it behind a curtain, Fia? I'm the only one who's here."

She grew quiet at that, but he waited for her to say something.

"This isn't your castle, Konstantin," she laughed a feathery laugh, withdrawing her hand from the curtain.

Konstantin Morozov didn't violate her privacy against her wish. Instead, he just stood there, waiting, as he heard a soft thump when she sat down on her small velvet orchid settee.

"But it is my chariot," he told her smugly.

She kept mum at that, and he heard the quiet rustle of clothes on skin a moment later.

Despite himself, and his need to keep her close, Konstantin walked back to the bed and waited while she changed.

Sofia. His best friend. His confidante.

The day he had first met her was clear as crystal in his mind, even to this day, the memory as vivid in front of his eyes as if it were yesterday.

He had been thirteen and she had been twelve, newly entered in their pack under the leadership of his father back then, King Leonid Morozov. Sofia had hidden behind her mother's long, floor grazing skirt when they had stood in his father's courtroom, peering from behind it timidly. Konstantin's eyes had followed her every emotion, every expression while she was there; he had been able to read her like an open book.

Whenever the Alpha had spoken, her widened eyes had followed his face with a look of awe mixed with a bit of fear. A scrape of a throne room chair, and her grip on her mother's skirt would tighten. A guard approaching made her head swivel, body stiff with attention. He had been intrigued by her the second he had laid eyes on her, but her eyes had not found him first, for they first fell on his younger brother, Fyodor Morozov as they had sat on either side of their father. That naughty rascal, he remembered thinking back then. The memory made him laugh.

And after that was a moment Konstantin would remember till his dying day, for that was the first time Sofia had laid eyes on him. He could still envision his breath getting stuck in his chest when that had happened, and he had known in that moment that she was something else.

Their parents had known, too, how he loved her and she him, and when she professed her love to him when he was eighteen, everyone had thought that she was going to be his mate. How could she not be? Soon-to-be alpha, mate to a salutary. Everyone had thought they were perfect for each other. She was the calm he needed. He was the strength she needed. Every hour of every day, Konstantin wanted Sofia and Sofia wanted Konstantin. That one year of waiting for her to turn eighteen so he could finally let the world officially know that she was his had almost killed him, but he had waited nonetheless.

But when Sofia finally did turn eighteen, the realization of the fact that she was not, in fact, his mate had been like a dagger to his heart. He just could not believe it; he had refused to believe it. Because her not being his mate hit him with the cold, cruel and irrefutable truth of having to marry his actual mate for the sake of his throne.

Sofia. His love. His only love.

The reality of her not being his mate he had tried to forget, tried to look past as if it did not exist, but his father's death in a gruesome battle with the Mongol alpha, Alpha Gan had only hit reality in his face harder, and he had had to become king at the young age of twenty one. That had happened two years ago.

Two years, Konstantin had ruled without a queen by his side; without a Luna. After his father's death, their expansive territory of Khabarovsk had been left in his hands, and the Mongols that his father had subdued for a few months were growing stronger again. Alpha Gan had been brutally injured in that battle, and his son, Altan was even more of a tyrant than his father had ever been.

Konstantin had been ruling the pack with a firm hand, just as able as his father had, if not more, and he was feared beyond fear by Gan's wolves like no other. But Altan was not Alpha Gan, he had not morals, no restraints, and no mate; she had died, and Konstantin knew he was being prejudiced, but he could not help thinking that Altan himself might have had his mate killed, for reasons known only to him.

It was a unanimous decision then, of his Beta, the Elders (pack elders) and other members of the royal court, that to safeguard the Pack of Khabarovsk, the ultimate level of security could be provided by one, and one person only; the true queen of Khabarovsk, Luna Morozova. And Konstantin had no choice but to find her as soon as he could, even if he didn't want to. Because he needed to.

"Konstantin?" came Sofia's soft voice, and he looked up, all thought disappearing from his brain when she came and stood in front of him, back facing him.

"Come and help me with this?" she asked, looking at him from her peripheral vision as she drew her hair to the side of her neck, and Konstantin saw that one strand of her honey hair had gotten entangled in the hook of her nightgown's strap.

He got up from the bed, walking towards her with slow steps, his eyes taking in the pale skin that the deep back of the gown had left exposed, and when he reached her, he felt his hand lift to touch her skin, instead of freeing the unruly strand that was caught in the hook.

Sofia faced the front again when she felt his presence behind her. She waited.

At the last moment, Konstantin stopped his finger from grazing her skin. It took everything in him to move it away instead, to the hair that was stuck. As he hooked his finger under the strand of her hair, it touched her skin, making her draw in a subtle breath. He smiled when he noticed, then tugged at the hair. It didn't budge. He tugged again.

"Ouch," said Sofia, and he could almost hear the frown in her voice when she said that. "Careful, Alpha. You're hurting me."

He stopped tugging at it, and then, with his free hand, he held her shoulder to stop her from moving.

She sucked in a bigger breath this time.

And he felt the need to do the same thing, because he had been so busy taking in her back that he hadn't noticed that her shoulders were bare.

Trying not to think about how beautifully plump her skin felt under his palm, Konstantin gently pulled the hair from the hook. It slid through.

And Sofia turned around to face him.

"Thank you," she purred, a mischievous smile playing on her pale pink lips, "Alpha."

Her smile made him think things he wasn't supposed to think, and before Konstantin could register what his brain was making him do, he gripped her waist and picked her up.

Sofia laughed her feathery laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed.

Oh, how that laugh made his heart skip a beat.

He laid her down on the cushiony bed gently, and placed his hands on either side of her head, making the bed dip a little where he had placed them. She still had her arms around his neck.

"The things you make me think, Fia," Konstantin exhaled, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her natural scent deeply, "and do."

She smiled contently, fingers combing through his hair as she traced them down to the nape of his neck, lightly drawing patterns on his skin, then trailed them down to his shoulder, tracing circles on the thin fabric of his cotton shirt.

He let out a deep breath that felt warm on her neck, then pushed himself up and straddled her waist.

The look in her eyes as she stared into his made his eyes dilate, and he swiftly took off his shirt. He saw her gaze shift to the bulging muscles of his arms, his crafted chest and abdomen, and then to his navel, but before it traveled any further, he laughed.

"So I take it that you appreciate these?" Konstantin teased, flexing his arms with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Sofia immediately shifted her gaze to the wall behind him.

"Don't tease, Konstantin," she huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

Konstantin's eyes fell on it, and his smile disappeared, and when he looked into her eyes again, he felt her suck in a breath.

He couldn't hold himself back anymore.

Hands finding hers, he intertwined their fingers, raising her arms and placing them above her head. His face lowered and his lips found her jaw, peppering kissing on it, then moving to her earlobe as he left gentle kisses there before moving to her neck. His heart raced in his chest when he found the dip in her neck and he pressed his lips to it when-

A painful pang felt its way through his heart, making everything he had been feeling just then disappear from his brain, wiping it clean like a slate. Konstantin frowned, and it took him a moment to steady himself again.

'What just happened…?'

As if sensing the change in his mood, Sofia opened her eyes and looked into his with worry.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked softly, framing his face with her hands, and although he was looking into her eyes, she doubted if he was actually looking at her.

And although Konstantin knew his eyes held a distant look in them, he couldn't bring himself to focus them; something wasn't letting him.

Pushing himself up, he got off the bed in a hurry, raking a hand through his hair and making his way to the window-door up front without even gathering his shirt that he'd thrown away minutes ago.

Watching him leave all of a sudden, Sofia grew worried.

"Konstantin?" she called after him, sliding off the bed to make her way after him, but he didn't stop. She worried if he had even heard her.

She picked up her pace and caught his wrist right before he entered the little corridor, turning him around.

"What happened?" she asked, her honey eyes filled with concern as she searched his pitch black ones, but they had gone stone cold, devoid of emotion.

Konstantin knew he was being unreasonable, but he just couldn't have a discussion with her at that moment. And as he watched her search his eyes for what he was not going to show her, he felt her fingers loosen on his wrist. And then she withdrew, turning around and walking back to the couch.

Something about watching Sofia walk away from him brought him back a little, and he went after her.

"Hey," he called after her when she sat down on the couch, but she didn't meet his eyes, choosing to stare at her lap instead.

He knelt down and placed a finger under her chin, lifting it up, and saw that her eyes were glistening in the fairly lit room.

"Hey, shh," he whispered softly, holding her hands in his free hand, "don't cry, Fia."

She sniffled.

"What happened to you, all of a sudden?"

"It was just- It was nothing, okay? You didn't do anything, and I don't want to see you cry, yeah?"

When she didn't say anything, he gave her a small smile and stood up to leave, but-

"We've done it before, Konstantin," Sofia whispered quietly. "So many times."

She paused for a second, staring at her lap again, then said, "It's because of her, isn't it? It's because of your mate."

Konstantin whipped around.

"Wha- no. Hey, hey, hey, shh," he went on his knees so that he could wrap his arms around her, rubbing her back when she started crying.

"We've talked about this, Sofia," he told her softly, continuing to caress her hair as she cried into his shoulder. "You know why I need to find her. You know it."

He drew back, cupping her small face with his large hands, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. She looked into his eyes this time.

"I don't want to find her, Fia," he explained, staring into her eyes earnestly. "You know I don't. But I have to, for the safety of my pack. Our pack."

She shook her head at that, letting out a defeated laugh.

"Our pack? She'll be the Luna, Konstantin. Your Luna. And I'll just been nothi-"

"Fia, please," Konstantin sighed, throwing his hands up in the air, "don't say that. So what if she becomes the Luna? So what if she becomes Queen of Khabarovsk? She'll never have me, because you are the queen of my heart. I'll never let her change anything between us. I just need to marry her for her strength. For our pack's safety. For your safety. That's all this is."

He didn't break eye contact with her even once, and when she saw how genuine, and how desperate he sounded, he saw her soften before him.

Throwing her arms around his neck, Sofia said to him, almost in a whisper,"I love you, Konstantin. I love you so much."

Konstantin felt relief spread through him when he heard that, hugging her back just as tightly.

"I love you, too, Sofia," he mumbled into her hair, and when he did, he felt that same pang, holding an emotion he couldn't decipher, wring through his heart again.