My father stood shoulder to shoulder with Masuma, they were muttering something between themselves. Yaga was standing a few paces away with her arms crossed and her usual scowl marring her face. Coda wasn't far from her, his penetrating gaze scrutinizing my every move as I took on the rogues around me.
Four of the savage creatures had been brought in their cages from the basement for this stage of my training.
Whatever this was, it would mark a monumental shift in my training. How, I didn't yet know. I didn't need to worry about that now though. All I needed to focus on was killing these grotesque rabid monsters in a timely fashion.
The secret of the rogues trapped in the basement of the storage cabin was accompanied by the secret of this fighting pit.
It was just outside of the pack boundaries which no one was allowed to travel out of without explicit permission to do so, allowing such a secret to be kept quite easily. The pit was about eight feet deep and twenty feet in diameter. It was open which allowed spectators such as my father and Coda a clear view of the events that took place within the pit.
The ground was earthen which meant that depending on the weather you had to keep in mind your footing. Sliding around in mud called for a different awareness than a nice sure field of compacted dirt.
Luckily for me, it had not rained in recent days but the easy terrain was every bit of an advantage for the rogues as it was for me.
Strangely enough, I didn't feel any nervousness in being trapped within a confined area with four blood thirsty animals.
I had no doubt that I could kill them all. All of my spectators new that, which is why the objective here wasn't to simply survive. This was my chance to show them a mastery of the techniques I had been taught. This was a chance for them to witness where I was comparatively to other hunters.
Each attack and defensive maneuver I demonstrated had to be flawlessly executed and well thought out.
That's what it meant to be a hunter. There was no such thing as a lucky hit or dodge. Every movement was intentional and every wound I took or escaped was a result of my own design.
My mind was empty and so was my heart. I felt no remorse or empathy for the werewolves that had gone Wild. They were murderers no matter their pain, and their deaths would serve to boost me higher and further.
When my demonstration had finished and the bodies of four rogues lay at my feet, their blood seeping into the earth, I stood in the center of the pit and patiently waited for a verdict.
Yaga was gloating with a satisfied and, dare I say, proud look on her face. Whatever she said to Masuma had the male shooting me a skeptical look before gruffly dismissing me and muttering something to my father.
Coda didn't say anything except for a few words prompted by my father.
When they finally seemed to reach a consensus, my father stepped up to the edge of the pit before jumping down.
He stepped over the body of a rogue and kicked the paw of another aside as he made his way towards me.
I was on my guard, able to tell that my father had not come down here to talk to me.
Still, even though I was expecting what was to come, I was hardly prepared for it.
His brown eyes swallowed me whole as he thundered down on me with his quick attacks. I had no choice but to go on the defensive, unable to find an opening to switch to offense.
The alpha mercilessly destroyed me in the matter of minutes, showing me just how big the gap was between us.
I may have had his blood, his eyes, his light brown skin and thick black hair but that was where our similarities ended.
Each of my father's attacks were pinpointed at my weaknesses that he had no doubt observed from my display with the rogues.
His claws cut into me, his venom sending a familiar agonizing burn through my body. It was paralyzing for a few seconds, the strength of it much greater than that of the other hunters I had trained with. I had grown accustomed to fighting with foreign venom hindering me so that I would not become paralyzed limb by limb like I now was.
Again, it was just evidence of the gap between us.
My father had me on my knees, one hand clutching my fractured arm while panting raggedly with my head bowed before even three minutes had passed.
"You are still weak." My father's voice lacked emotion which in a way I found even worse than Masuma's loathing insults and Yaga's mocking taunts.
"Yes." I replied evenly. My father's words were true. I was weak, physically and mentally.
"You killed them as painlessly as you could. That's a weakness I will not tolerate from my offspring. We do not show mercy, especially to our enemies."
Again, there was nothing I could say to refute him. "Yes."
"I will fix that. Starting tomorrow we will correct every mistake you made today. You will also be receiving the pain you saved those rogues from. Kindness, no matter how small, is never rewarded Cleo. It is only ever taken advantage of. Since it is a lesson you still have not learned under to the tutorage or Masuma or Yaga it looks like it will fall on me."
I bit down hard enough of my trembling lower lip to draw blood. I had been hoping to finally return under the responsibility of Coda. Never had I even dreamed that my father would be the one to take that place.
It was something I used to wish for and now all I could do was curse my young self for such a stupid desire.
I only stood when my father was out of the pit and taking his leave with Masuma on his heels.
Yaga strolled out after them but called out to me, "Nice work today fire ant. I look forward to seeing your progression under the alpha."
There was a sadistic glint in her eye that told me there was malicious intent underneath her words of encouragement. She knew that my father would beat every weakness out of me even if he risked killing me in the process. My pain would only be the pack's gain and for those like Yaga, they could only lick their lips in anticipation at the prospect weapon Eric Farland could turn his half-breed daughter into.
I didn't realize that Coda had joined me in the pit until I felt him sweep my hair up in his hand and twist it into a loose knot at the top of my head. "You should start braiding your hair."
I snorted, "I'm not old enough." The braids Coda were talking about were not the ones young children usually wore singularly, or as two pulled over the shoulder.
He was talking about the little braids that females and even some males added to their hair that usually signified them as adults. Those braids were pulled tightly across the scalp and mixed among loose hair. Most females started braiding their hair after completing their apprenticeships and initiation as pack members.
"You'll be eighteen come winter."
I gave my head a shake to dislodge the already uncoiling knot of hair. "Doesn't matter. I'm still an apprentice."
The beta's hands gathered up my dark locks again and began to mess around with some strands. "Yes, well, if you're waiting until you graduate as a fully-fledged hunter, you'll have several more decades under your belt."
"That's not funny Coda." Even though he was behind me and couldn't see any expression I were to make, I still glared.
"I'm not joking, Cleo." His voice was low and grave. "Your father isn't going to stop until you are perfectly crafted into the weapon he wants you to be."
I grunted as the hunter yanked roughly on my hair. "That's not going to take much longer."
A stretch of silence passed between us. Then finally in a quiet whisper the beta mumbled, "I hope it never happens."
I frowned down at the ground. I thought that's exactly what everyone wanted from me, including him. Isn't that what was expected of every hunter? "Why?"
"Weapons don't need a mind of their own."
Oh. Right. I wasn't just another hunter. I was a half-breed and for some reason that made everyone believe I would flip sides the moment I met a lycan. Still, Coda didn't have to worry about my mind breaking entirely. Going to that extreme meant my father risking me going Wild and losing me as a weapon entirely. A slightly imperfect weapon was still better than no weapon.
I didn't believe that the alpha would make such a gamble. "It'll be fine as long as he knows that his goals and mine are the same."
"No." The beta's reply came instantly. "Maybe for others, but not for you." He placed his handiwork over my shoulder for me to admire the perfectly done fishtail braid.
I traced a finger down my black hair before twisting my head to the left to look up at Coda. "My lycan blood doesn't hold as much sway over me as you all seem to believe. Besides, do I seem so fickle as to switch sides just because I have the blood of a lycan in me?"
"There are things you don't know Cleo. There is an entirely different world that half of you belongs to."
I clenched my jaw, annoyed that no matter how many times I said it, this hunter never seemed to get it. "I belong nowhere but here. With you." I punched the last two words through gritted teeth.
"Cleo." There was a harsh bite in his reprimand. "This isn't something you get to escape from. You are half lycan, you have no choice in the matter. You've been forced to live in this world." He made a fist and held it up. "This is the world you know and grew up in. You have grown comfortable in this world, you know your place here, you know how it works. But at the same time there is a parallel world," he held up his other fist pointing his knuckles inwards at each other, "a part of you belongs to this world." He met my eyes, "and during all this time you have managed to keep these two worlds from colliding. But one day..." He brought his knuckles together, "you will find these two worlds crashing together." His cold blue-grey had sheets of ice freezing over my soul. "If you aren't prepared, you will be destroyed in the explosion."
A heavy silence fell. These two worlds, the world belonging to the hunters and the world that belonged to the lycans, were two worlds that never had and never could coexist peacefully. Coda was right. Eventually the two worlds would collide, but I had no intention of being caught in the explosion that would occur.
Gently placing my hand over one of his large hands, I slowly pulled the one fist away from his other and held it in my two hands. "But the part of me that belongs to this parallel world no longer exists Coda." I covered his fist completely. "I have nothing to do with that world any longer. So, in the end, even if they collide, all of me will be driving behind the force of this world." My hands slipped away from his clenched fists and fell to my sides.
"You don't know what is waiting for you in that other world Cleo. There are temptations there that will lure you. Even if you enter that world with a steadfast resolve, you will find yourself wavering. No amount of training here can prepare you for who is on the other side."
The male's face was stricken, and it made me pause. His eyes were hard and reflected an old memory that only he could see. His stubble covered jaw feathered and his lips pulled flat into a grimace. Whoever he was seeing was someone he was wary of. There was something he wasn't telling me, something big that he was keeping a secret from me.
I tried to comfort the male even though now he had me worried. Whoever it was that had the beta on edge had to be a formidable foe and I could only hope that I would never find myself going head-to-head with such a person. It would probably end much like my fight with the alpha had. "Whatever awaits me in that other world, it can't be worth my life. If I hesitate, even for a moment, my father will abandon me, and I will be deemed a traitor. He will come for my head."
My life wasn't worth anything the lycans had to offer. Maybe if I believed they could protect me I would consider such a thing, but they were too few now and stood no chance against my father's pack. "I am not as foolish to let myself believe I can find acceptance in that other world. I killed one of their own, it is a sin that I will never be forgiven of."
"Cleo–"
I lifted a hand to his prickly cheek and stroked my thumb along his tense jaw once. "So, you don't have to worry Coda." It meant the world to me that the beta was concerned enough about losing me that he was warning me about something that was not even worth the time it took talking about it.
Patting his cheek softly before letting my hand drop, I stepped back from him. Coda caught my hand before it fell to my side. He met my eyes with words brimming on his tongue. There were things he wanted to tell me. I could see that it wasn't just one secret he was keeping from me. His aged eyes held so much knowledge that he knew he could not share with me.
"When," the beta licked his lips and diverted his eyes, looking out across the pit at the dead rogues. "When he forces you to break," his eyes flicked back down to meet mine, "promise me that you won't."
I blinked up at him, forcing a smile. "Can you really break something that is already broken?"
"Yes, Cleo," the beta said solemnly. "Yes."
With a heavy sigh I tipped my head back and looked up at the sky and the sun that was beginning its descent. "Walk me home?" I asked the male standing next to me.
This would most likely be the last time for a long while that I would be allowed to walk uninhibited with the beta. Coda was right, my father would do everything in his power to craft me into his ideal weapon and that meant I would have to follow his strict regime. And I could hardly believe that I would be allowed to do anything that was not overseen by the alpha himself.
When it came time for me to sleep, I was kept awake by my fears and imagination of the nightmares that the alpha would design for me to experience. I considered running but knew that such a choice would only lead to my death. If I was not here under the thumb of this pack then I was not a hunter. And if I was not a hunter then I was just a foul blooded lycan.
I would be hunted down with the last of the true lycans and I did not wish for my existence to end as a terrified hare to be chased and ripped apart by hounds.
No, running was not an option for me. For that reason and the oath that I had made to Fate and Coda.
Coming to grips with the fact that my only option was to endure my father's brutal training until I was molded into his perfect little lycan hunter, I finally calmed my mind and drifted into sleep.
A nightmare awaited me, a prelude to the morning and days after that would follow while I remained as Eric Farland's apprentice.
I was trapped in the cabinet again, only this time the door was not cracked open. I could not see my mother. I couldn't even hear anything happening outside.
The small wooden box kept me in utter darkness and dead silence.
I tried to push open the door with my foot, but nothing budged. Creeping forward, my hand blindly fumbled to find the hinges of the door only to be met with smooth wood on all four sides.
I was trapped in a box with no way out.
I called out for help, banging on the walls surrounding me, continuing to kick at the cabinet in hopes that somehow an opening would present itself. "Hello?" I called out. "Anybody out there? Help me! Get me out of here!"
A wet droplet landing on my head had me pausing in my cries for help and feeling above me for the source.
Another droplet landed on my shoulder this time. Then another and another, like a light drizzle picking up force into a steady shower.
I wiped at my skin and brought my thumb and forefinger together, rubbing them back and forth to get a feel for the consistency. It was thicker than water and was sticky after it dried a bit. I then brought my fingers to my nose, smelling a metallic scent.
Without hesitation I licked my finger and tasted the unmistakable coppery tang of blood.
My heart froze in my chest before resuming at a furious staccato. I frantically pushed at the top of the wooden box I was trapped in, hoping to find where the blood was now pouring out of and quickly filling up my confines.
My feet were completely submerged in the blood that just kept raining down from the top of the cabinet.
I screamed, banging at the wall trapping me in my prison that would soon drown me in blood if I did not escape.
Even when my throat was raw from my shrieks, I continued to call for help. The blood was up to my shoulders, sucking me into its heavy embrace. It burned at my skin like fire, renewing the vigor of my screams.
I continued to screech until I gasped in my last breath, blood filling my mouth, pushing its way down my throat, filling my belly and then up my lungs.
All I could taste was the red substance, all I could feel was the hot sticky liquid, all I could smell was the iron in the blood.
I knew that I should be losing consciousness, that I should be drowning, that I should be dying, and yet none of that was happening.
The blood had become a new cage, one that encased me on the outside and filled me on the inside.
I no longer felt like I was stuck in a small box. Now I felt like I was in the depths of an ocean, floating suspended in space. There were no sounds and there was no light. I could no longer even feel or smell anything.
Endless nothingness.
I was trapped in the gaping hole of my very own soul.
A hole where I had forced my beast into.
This is what I had subjected it to. This prison of emptiness that housed nothing. This was a fate worse than death, a sense of awareness and yet the inability to do anything more than simply exist.
There was no way out. I would never be free of this place because I could not die, and I could not move to rescue myself. I would never escape unless someone dove down into this deep and ugly part of myself to drag me out.
I awoke gently, not with a start like I always did from my other nightmares.
My eyes slowly peeled open, meeting the log roof over my head, the wood visible in the dim moonlight coming in from the window.
I rolled onto my side and pulled my legs in tightly to my chest, hugging myself tightly, focusing on the sensations of the furs against my skin, the smell of the house around me and the noise of the wind whistling through the walls of the log cabin.
No longer was I trapped in that dark ocean of blood. I was here in the real world, I was alive. All of these sensations were proof of that.
I wasn't the one trapped in that dark pit in my soul.
It was my beast.
Tears slid down my cheeks, blurring my vision but I did not cry silently like I always made myself do. This time I allowed my small hiccups and whimpers free, hoping that maybe the sounds of my sorrow and remorse might pierce through the deafening silence in that ocean of blood and reach my beast.
It was the only comfort I could give to it because I could not free it. I was too selfish, too terrified to deal with the consequences that would come from it.
Dealing with the guilt that this is what I had subjected my beast to was a pain I could deal with. Admitting that I was lying to myself about the beast being something other than a part of a myself, considering it to be something completely separate from me, was a pain that I could not bear.
Because if I did that, I would have to accept the fact that it was I who had trapped myself in that dark hole of emptiness. It was I who had denied myself any chance of escape from the blood ocean. It was I who was torturing and punishing myself for an alpha and a pack that had no love for me.
It was I who didn't even have any love for herself.
No, it was easier to just discard everything, all emotions, so that I did not have to admit this truth to myself.
There was simply no way I could accept that I was slowly killing myself because if I did that, then I would have no choice but to seek help from someone to save me.
There was no one in this world who would save something as monstrous as me. So, admitting the truth meant conceding my inevitable death brought on by my own hand.
And I would never do that.