Thunder Heart

It smelled dead. It had to be dead. The dark presence quickened it's pace, in pursuit of me, as I ran through the woods. Leaves barely hung on their branches as the waxing moon spilt through the almost naked, wooden figures. I lept over tree roots and ducked under low hanging limbs. 

Blood that did not belong to me crusted on my face. 

Looking over my shoulder periodically, I only found the hooded creature had gained more ground. 

Suddenly, I was on my knees, hard. The feeling of cold mud seeped through my already torn jeans, stinging my cuts and scrapes. I looked to see the culprit of my fall; a solitary tree root. 

The predator's scent snapped my attention back to the problem at hand. I turned around quickly, still in my kneeling, vulnerable position. 

I was able to crawl into a clearing hoping the moonlight would protect me; for she always protected her own.

The creature advanced on me slowly, knowing I could no longer escape. It was almost arrogant as if it wanted to play with its prey. 

I was a scholar not a fighter, but this was a moment that made a warrior.  

The creature straightened it's stance as we both heard rustling from behind me. My stomach sank, thinking it was another of the same kind. 

But from the opposite tree line, the largest black wolf walked forward. I sighed with relief as I noticed the dead creature began to back away. 

The wolf would not accept it's retreat. I pulled myself onto my feet and back away as the creature and the wolf circled each other. 

The wolf's coat was so dark and shimmering, even in the small moon light. His muscles were taunt and ready to fight. 

His glacial, slanted eyes locked onto me for just a moment. He knew I was not prepared for the sight that was about to occur. I nodded, quite agreeing with him. So, to my shame, I turned my face away. 

Not soon enough to protect my ears from the assault of crushed bone and screeches. That I would not leave unscathed. 

I did as I usually did. I pretended it did not happen. Drawing attention to myself was an unfamiliar task. But I could not help but wonder, what would I have done? Had the wolf not appeared, had I not fallen, or better yet, had I stayed inside as told. 

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with blood and dirt. 

The wolf approached me after he had done his duty. His muzzle glistened with blood and his fur began to matte. 

He nudged me to leave the clearing and go back home. But I was more afraid of what would meet me there than I was here. He went ahead and I followed. We were deep into the woods when he changed back to his skin. 

He pulled me to his chest and held me with his massive arms. 

He was a stranger to me. I had never met this male before. In the dark I could not even see his face, but I felt comfortable in his embrace than I had ever felt before. A shock took over me as if his energy was embracing me as well. My wolf began to submit to him, and I knew if I did not get away, I would have easily given myself to him without even seeing his true face. He could sense my submission and tried to sooth my fears, knowing I had been through enough tonight. Any other male would have gladly accepted my aquiesant as payment for saving me. This male was different; thankfully. 

My knees felt heavy as if they were full of sand and so the male picked me up as a child and carried me home. In that comfort I let my eyes close and rested my head against his hairy chest.

————————————-

They were meeting with the higher ups of the pack. My mother was hosting a grand dinner to discuss the marriage of my older sister. They would never discuss me. I was her baby and she was determined to keep me from the politics of the pack. The devils were in the politicians, masquerading as wolves. I could hear my uncle quote whenever he was called to the pack head quarters. 

I ducked out before anyone arrived. My mother was on her third glass of wine and I could see the night ending badly. 

Thankfully she kept up her rhythm of knocking back glasses. When I snuck back into the house, she was snoring on the sofa cradling a bottle of rosè. My uncle Humphrey had put a blanket over her and had gone to bed himself. 

I was able to escape up the stairs and into my room. The light was on and I could tell someone had been there. 

Nothing was touched but they had been there none the less. I caught my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. 

My face was streaked with mud and my black hair was hanging about my face. I had started the night with it pulled up. My coal black eyes seemed wild and I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. 

It was in that moment that I realized tonight could have been my last. Had the wolf not arrived; I knew I would have failed to protect myself. 

I never had to protect myself before. I was the lucky one. My siblings always said so. I had lived in a bubble, orchestrated by my mother and Uncle. 

Were I put in the situation again, like I had been tonight, I wanted to know I could rely on myself. I had to rely on myself. 

Once my mother regained consciousness the next day, she scolded me on my absence at the dinner. Then she made herself a drink and made a comment about, hair of the wolf. It was her clever way of shrugging off the judgement of day drinking. 

Humphrey was off discussing with the leaders a way to go forward with their plans.

A small pack meeting was to be held with all the original families in attendance. We had already been told by the republic that they had forbidden loyalists to attend the meeting. 

If it were not our enemies tearing us apart it was the rebel group within, that supplanted peace. 

I would go tonight, I held no loyalty to my father's gorilla group. They promised protection to the tribe but at what cost in the end?

The British were promising us unity and support. A promise of peace was more appealing to me than a threat of protection. 

Of course, there were loyalist families who did not attend. I noticed the faces as I walked into my aunt Linda's house. Most were congenial to me. But as my sister Lilly exited my aunt's kitchen, I realized she was not too welcome. 

She had been away for years and expected the pack to roll over on their backs for her. Like her mere presence warranted fealty. 

She cocked an arrogant eyebrow at me as she brushed past. I shrugged it off. I was not almost six foot with eyes that pierced a man's soul, like she. But it made her a pariah. I could at least blend in. 

I entered my aunt's kitchen looking for a beer or something to calm my nerves. The night before still lingered in my mind and every time I closed my eyes, I heard bones snapping. And yet I still had no idea whose bones they were nor who crushed them. 

There was a male sitting at my aunt's kitchen island. I swayed back and forth on my Chanel boots. I did not know if I should leave or continue on my pursuit unfazed.

Before I decided the male looked up noticing my presence. His blue eyes caught mine and I felt a spark strike up my spine. The hair on my arms raised like electricity. He stood from his seat and made the room look small with his stature. 

I saw his casual jeans and tight grey shirt, he was attempting to blend in, but I had a feeling he would fail. His muscles were accentuated by the thin, grey material which only proved to me he was ill at eased, dressing down. Someone had to have picked his clothes for him. 

"Hello," he smiled, and I knew I was in trouble. His teeth were white and slightly crooked, but perfect. 

"Hi," I whispered. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hi," I said more clearly. 

He seemed endeared by my awkwardness. I walked towards him trying to be more secure in my skin. I outstretched my arm to shake his hand. 

"Tallia Black Bear," I said assuredly. 

He took my hand and shook it. It was a massive hand but exceedingly gentle and soft. 

"Harris Cavendish," he smirked, and I noticed a defined dimple in his chin and cheek. 

English Alpha….

"Pleasure to meet you Alpha," I pulled my hand away quickly. 

"And you as well Ms. Black Bear," his received pronunciation was strong, and I felt like a country bumpkin. 

This man went to Eton when he was younger, before going to St. Andrew's. And here he was, the upper crust of English society, standing in my aunt's tacky kitchen surrounded by rooster décor.

"I'll leave you alone," I noticed the papers on the bar that he had been going over.

My aunt Linda had even given him a drink in a rooster shaped mug. I was more than embarrassed. 

"Please," he smiled graciously. "Its good to have a kind face." He motioned to the bar stool beside him. I took a seat and so did he. "Its pretty icy out there," he smirked. 

"It's barely 45 degrees," I contradicted until I realized he meant the tribe. "oh."

His laugh was like a rumble. "Yea, I meant the pack," he raised an eyebrow with endearment.

His hair was brown I noticed, but it had strands of deep chest nut going through it. It may have been more ruddy of a color but he kept it pretty short. I remembered them saying he was an officer in the royal something or other before he was made alpha. 

"I guess we still have a problem with colonization," I smirked trying to flirt but failing. 

He nodded. "So, it would seem." 

He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and I saw a Royal Marines tattoo on his forearm. I had been right in my assessment of him. 

"I just realized," he chirped. "I owe you condolences." He grew apologetic. "Your father, he recently passed." He took my hand in his.

I nodded. "Yea John died." I did not sound sorry enough. His face was a mixture of confusion and empathy. "We weren't close," I explained and took back my hand. 

He nodded as if he understood parental problems. "Still a loss is a loss."

"Not much of a loss really," I explained. "I lived a town over from him my entire life and didn't see him but once a year." 

"Ah, right your parents are divorced," he sighed. "Well, I must say you're handling it rather well." 

He was English. They were accustomed to carrying on and keeping a stiff upper lip. He could appreciate my further.  

"Well, I should go," I announced. "My mother probably has a chair waiting for me."

"Please don't go," he seemed genuine. "You've calmed my nerves."

I took a seat beside him and noticed how large he was in comparison to myself. 

"You have nothing to worry about," I lied. "You'll do great. Lilly speaks highly of you." Another lie I realized. Lilly had never spoken about him, but we all knew she was infatuated with him. 

"Lilly?" he was confused for a moment. "Oh Lilly," he realized who I was talking about. "She's definitely something." He said in what I assumed was admiration. 

For some reason I grew jealous. Of course, Lilly was definitely something. She had the best genes. She was tall and queenly. But overly arrogant and ready to fight at any moment. It was tiresome to be around. God help this man if he wanted her as a mate. 

I smiled as well as I could, when speaking about my older sister.

"She's beautiful. I'll give her that." 

That was all I could say. Lilly was beautiful. Almost otherworldly, how beautiful she was. But her attitude covered it up.

He nodded. "It's her green eyes," he said. "They look like a cat's. It's unnerving." He laughed. "She always looks like she's ready to strike."

I wanted to laugh and agree but that was my sister he was referring to. 

"She's my sister," I reprimanded. "I shouldn't agree with you." 

He nodded. "You're very loyal. Or so they tell me."

We could sing Lilly's praises all day long but what the alpha was told on the subject of me, is that I was loyal. 

"Yep," I murmured. "I do as I'm told." 

He smiled. "I hope not all the time," he flirted.

I looked away and saw the papers on the bar. A list of names of potential suitors. Of course, Humphrey had made it sure I was not on the list.

At the very top and in bold letters was Lilliana Black Bear. My stomach churned. I stood from the bar and backed away. 

"Thank you for the chat alpha," I smiled politely. "But I must join my family." 

Before he could respond I escaped into the living room where everyone had started to sit. I noticed Lilly squished between my aunt and mother, so I decided to take up residence as a wall flower.  You know, a loyal wall flower, the smart kind.