Revenge of the Luna Queen

Chapter 14

Some would say that these strangers, had no claim to him, to his resources, his skills, his protection, that because they were separate they were not entitled. That they were different. Outsiders and therefore did not deserve to share and benefit from the wealth and resources that they themselves did.

Maleco could see their point. In a purely selfish economic way it made sense, albeit greedily. They had had the great luck to be born within his pack and without effort they were profiting from its advantages. Sharing those wealth's; whether material or psychological, potentially depleted the stores for themselves. Arguably opening themselves up to greater risk and exposure.

The first few months he had been swayed by their words, by their fear. He had sent the few desperate souls that had come begging for help away, too scared to endanger his own to bother with anyone else's. He saw them as other's responsibility. Of course he felt for them, pitied them, sympathized, but ultimately he cast them away. Refusing their pleas on the simple charge that they had no ties to his pack, to him.

That was until they stumbled upon the bodies. The mutilation. The pain that they must have endured at the hands of those that had found them was unimaginable. While 'his' pack, 'his' people, were safe and protected; women and children had been slaughtered. All because they were not 'his'. Perhaps alive they hadn't belonged to him, but in death? In death they were his.

Looking at their bodies he had realized the truth: he could not blame and condemn innocent people to such awful fates based purely on an accident of birth. He refused to allow those he could save to die because of random chance, and a lottery that was inherently beyond their control. He had sworn to protect the weaker, to stand for justice, law and equality, and none of those things were exclusive to his pack. They were universal truths, and to refuse them to people based on arbitrary constructs, was the most deplorable act imaginable.

They had been forgotten. These victims. Tossed aside and perceived as unworthy; as acceptable and unavoidable collateral damage. They are viewed as weaker and therefore inferior. Their lives, their pains, their hopes, valued as less important. Less cherished and respected then those of the elite. They had all allowed, and fostered a system where power and wealth now trumped equality and humanity. Where lives, where people, were seen as disposable. Where suffering is not only allowable but forgivable so long as it benefited those in control, those with power.

Somewhere along the way it had been forgotten that power and responsibility went hand in hand. That the elite naturally owed not only an allegiance but also an obligation to those outside of themselves. To those that had entrusted in them not just their lives but their futures. It had been forgotten that power should not be imposed but earned, and loyalty not bought but bestowed.

And so he listened. He listened and hurt. Bled for each and every failure. Every lost and broken soul that they had allowed to slip between their fingers. He listened and he remembered. Because no one deserves to be forgotten. No one deserves to be shoved aside, dismissed and obliterated. Lost to the world as if they had never existed, just because they were inconvenient. They don't deserve to be written off and extinguished because they were powerless.

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Alpha Maleco rubbed his temples trying to ease the pressure that had been building all day. He closed his eyes as the sensation suddenly got more uncomfortable. Hissing as the pain went from a mildly annoying pressure, to red-hot spikes being driven into his eye sockets. Ignoring his Beta's concerned glances he waved away the offer to fetch the pack doctor. He knew there were people who needed the overworked doc's attention far more than he did for a simple headache. Even if it was true that he had never experienced one like this before in his life, and sincerely hoped he never would have to again.