Capture (Book 1 in the Wolfen Brethren Series)

Hope for the Future

This has been edited but there may be mistakes.

Standing on the stage Neema watched a bare chested Khan getting his skin marked, the older man bent over his body as he painstakingly drew each line along his body with the gold ink. A cloth in his free hand as he wiped at each new design he made, removing any traces of blood.

The mans long black ponytail trailed down his back and swung with each move he made. His frail body bobbing and weaving as he manipulated his body to get the right angle for each pattern. Khan sat on a stool in a pair of leather trousers, his hair was loose but pushed away from his face. A few gold beads and plaits placed inches hair by Neema and Jana.

The procedure had been going on for an hour, the drums were playing in the background as the crowd waited for Khan to come out from behind the dividers. The ceremony was typically witnessed by the current Alpha and a few selected individuals of important ranking. Neema was encouraged by Khan to stand by and watch his marking. To witness the ceremony was a privilege to those who were allowed. It was the highest level of respect and love to be able to watch the alpha at his weakest and his strongest. The art of the marks signified the transferring of power. Each dot represented the people that Khan would eventually protect under his rule. Each fine dot emerging into a line, a line into a shape until each shape made a picture. A design that only the artist and Khan knew of.

Neema was in awe at the whole process. Khans tattoos started on his right arm and expanded to his other arm and trailed down his chest. The swirls of black and gold signified so much for his future and Neema was one of the lucky few to watch Khan getting his work done. He had told her he wanted her and his child present at this iconic moment of his life, he felt as if their presence would breed a good omen for his rule. Neema couldn't fault his reason.

"Doesn't he look fearsome" giggled Norah. Khan's sisters had made it just in time for the ceremony which meant they were part of the selected few who were permitted to watch. The youngest of the bunch was a spitting image of Khan she had the same black luscious hair and and brown skin, the difference being her eyes were a greenish colour instead of khan's hazel. Her disposition was also cheerful which was something Khan could never be described as.

"When daddy got his done, I heard that he all you could hear was his grunting. But Khan doesn't even twitch," she whispered rather loudly earning her a disgruntled look from her father. Norah stuck her tongue out at her father and continued prattling onto Neema.

"Look at how he stares at you" chided her elder sister. The older sister, Airah was tall and lithe but had a paler skin complexion, her eyes were a vibrant green and her hair was cropped short in a dark bob. She reminded Neema of those mythological creatures, an elf. Tall and elegant, she was stunning in a non-conventional way.

It was true what she said though, Khan really was staring her down. He barely made a sound as the artist leant over his body steadily changing out needles and ink to create master peace in khan's body. The sweat that was slick on his brow was the only indication that he felt some sort of pain or discomfort. His face was straight as he maintained constant eye contact with Neema. It was as if she were the only one watching him.

She wanted to touch him, to give him some reassurance but she wasn't able to. She had to stand to the side and just observe. At least she was on this side of the dividers and not with everybody else waiting.

"How much longer" mumbled Neema as she shifted from foot to foot. Standing for an hour straight was not the most comfortable thing for a pregnant woman to be doing. She didn't  want to disrupt the ceremony to ask for a chair though, especially as it was such an important moment for him.