Imprint

16 - Submission

His heart pounded with the vision of Snow. His imprinting towards her was still fresh and strong, Torryn wondered if when his need will ever stop. Just he was about to leave her that night, Snow told him she loved him.

After all that he has done to her, taking his fill over her body, manhandling her, leaving her sore and cold, yet Snow told him she loved him. The monster that he was did not deserve such love. But she gave it anyway.

Torryn could not suppress the smile taking over his lips. Warmth spread through him. He could not bear to stay every time he is finished with her. He might not resist to make love to her again and that will just exhaust her.

It was the morning of Victor's Welcome, she needed all the strength she can get. The clans would be handing their gifts by now. And Burnwood still doesn't have their alpha with them.

His clan was big but with produce so little, they had nothing to offer the victors during the ceremony. Although they lack in material possessions, there was something he knew his clan could offer.

Protection.

The same protection he and his father's men had given other clans.

Burnwood has the best fighters trained of ways of old, down to the skills used from the great war. Their wolves were sharper and their intuition more suited in the battle field. They remained steadfast against the growing threats of Rogues and the monsters that lurked in the woods. He did not know what else Burnwood could offer.

They had ancient mementos, heirlooms like the one he gave Snow. The ring of Eve of the North suited her. His jaw ached ever so slightly as he grinned. The numbing brew was just beginning to take its effect.

How would the elders react to such gift? He imagined his grandmother's jaw drop down from her face.

Then, Burnwood had the elders. The old miserable women filled with ancient wisdom. He rolled his eyes.

The ladies made sure all things were in order based on traditional rites, passages, prophecies and other things Torryn knows nothing about.

Some alpha he is, he thought as he snickered.

But through the years, he saw his father serve and all their ways were the same. Torryn failed to see the clan's growth as the wolf clan was so rooted in history.

What they lack in growth they made up in number. The newborns never cease in quantity but there was something amiss. It pained him to see such empire be just an empire, a vessel of killers and nothing else.

And with so little to offer her, Torryn knew only one way to face Snow's father.

Torryn sent her father an invitation days ago. He anticipated his arrival by Reaping but the man did not show signs of his presence.

It would be a privilege to be around him, the Aragon Grimlake, who himself served and fought during the Great War in such a young age. If he and his men were trained to fight in ways of old just by ancient scrolls and painted scripts.

Snow's father lived through the war to learn it first-hand.

Torryn wanted a word with him. The threats that prowled the shadows become greater as the day passes. With the Reaping of the Rogue Nation drawing close he could not help but fear the worst.

After what happened the previous year.

"Sire, it's time" One of his men came. Torryn shrugged the thought and stood from his seat. He downed the last of the numbing brew and marched out of the room.