The mare's ghostly eye bored into me, like she was trying to see into my soul. It was incredibly unsettling, but I just couldn't look away. There was something oddly...familiar about her. I felt like I knew her, but I was certain I'd never seen her before. The strange thing was, it felt like deep down, in the very bottom of my soul, I knew exactly who she was. Like a faded memory sparked by familiarity, a name came to me.
"Lyna. You're Lyna, aren't you?" I spoke in a quiet voice that didn't really feel like it was mine. I didn't really like that. I rather like the sound of my own voice, thank you very much.
To my surprise, the mare abruptly turned her back on me, swishing her long, glossy tail in apparent irritation. "Hmph. Hardly worth the effort. You sure this is the one you wanted to help? Doesn't look all that important to me." She shot a glare over her shoulder, as if I was the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen.
"Hey! Rude! You were the one staring at me, you creepy one-eyed mule!" In hindsight, it probably was a terrible idea to instigate somebody who had just kicked more butt in ten seconds than I could in ten minutes, but in my defense, I was extremely offended.
Ceraron slowly backed up, hoping I wouldn't notice him. He wasn't exactly keen on sticking around me at the moment. Apparently he didn't want to be nearby if I happened to anger the mare. What loyal friends I have. Well, to be fair, we weren't exactly friends. I flirted with his sister, got both of them involved with murderous wolves, and ended up endangering the entire Pack as a result. Still, he had to have cared since he went and brought the Pack with him to fight. It wasn't the best start to a friendship, but believe me when I say we will indeed become friends. Suspend your disbelief, please.
Slowly, around us, the rest of the wolves were processing what had just occurred. The battle was over, and my heart sank as I realized what that meant. Now that the fighting was finished, it was time to help the wounded and to count the dead. However, what I saw stopped me in my tracks. My eyes widened, and I could see the other wolves exhibiting the same expression of surprise and confusion.
I couldn't recognize a single wolf among the dead. I knew most of Root's pack, and not a single one of the bodies strewn around the battlefield were one of them. It just didn't make any sense. I had seen how vicious the battle was. I saw members of Root's pack taken down by Caedes. So where were their bodies?
Around me, those same questions were being voiced by the pack. A pair of gray wolves were huddled together nearby, speaking to each other in hushed voices.
I got the answer to my question very quickly as a familiar voice began calling out to the gathered wolves.
The newcomer was rounding up the pack, calling out names and making sure everyone was present. I couldn't see him, but I recognized him by the sound of his voice. It was Root.
As you might imagine, I was reluctant to stick around the area when Root was nearby. The Alpha hated me. Granted, I haven't always been very pleasant to him, but in my defense he is stuck up to the point of intolerable. He thinks he's better than everybody, that world should bow down at the very mention of his name. Since I've never been the overly respectful of authority type, we tended to clash on multiple occasions. I never did win any of those fights. You'll see why in a minute.
Like the great fantastic and amazing hero that I was, I cowered behind Ceraron, hoping that Root wouldn't notice me. Like the great fantastic and amazing friend Ceraron was not, he immediately stepped to the side the second Root's gaze passed over him. For a moment, I hoped he might miss me, but it was not to be. The Alpha's piercing gaze locked onto me as I gave him an awkward grin. There was silence as all attention fell on me. Every wolf in the area turned and stared directly at me, waiting for whatever disaster that was surely about to occur. Nobody moved to help me, and slowly, Root's Pack took on his gradually rising aggression.
See, that's the thing with Packs. The thoughts and feelings of the Alpha tend to spread very quickly amongst the members. They're very in sync with each other, and that's the reason they work together so well. Like one big hive mind made up of a bunch of bumblebees. Or, would it be bumblewolves? Okay, I'm getting off track again. Long story short, if the Alpha is happy, everybody is happy. If the Alpha is angry, everybody is angry. You can see why this wouldn't work out very well for me. The Pack went from being on my side to wanting to rip out my insides. Spectacular.
I was about to get the heck out of there when Root suddenly lunged. On instinct, I scrambled away from the fearsome beast as he came to a stop in front of me. He stood tall, fangs bared, head high, and eyes full of venom. But something was definitely off with this picture. Root wasn't facing me. He was looking at Ceraron.
"You! How dare you!" Root snarled, lips peeled back. The giant wolf's head snapped forward, jaws snapping a breath away from Ceraron's face. "How dare you command my Pack! You have no right!"
If I were in Ceraron's position, I would have rolled right over and done my best to appease the furious Alpha. I admit it. I was a coward. Pretty sure I still am. But Ceraron was brave, and he always has been. It's one of the things I respect most about him. He fights for what he believes to be right, no matter the cost. He would risk anything to save an innocent life. Out of the two of us, Ceraron is the hero. Or, at least, he was. I can't tell if he's still moving. Then again, my vision is a little hazy right now. If Ceraron is truly gone right now, I'll be following him soon.
But let's not dwell on the present. I'm talking about the past right now.
Ceraron looked Root dead in the eye. He didn't even flinch at the jaws snapping in front of his face. Calmly, he regarded his Alpha and spoke in an icy tone. "I do not regret my actions. If given the choice, I would do so again. My sister was in danger, and the Pack agreed to help me. I didn't force anybody to come with me." He narrowed his eyes, expression filling with anger. "You should be glad your Pack is so eager to help one of their own. After all, it isn't all about one wolf."
"Oooo, burn! He called you OUT! Savage!"
I admit it. I spoke without thinking. But come on, did you really expect me to react with Ceraron's level of composure and maturity? Of course not! What a silly thought! I wasn't the only one, either. I heard quite a few snickers, but they were immediately silenced when Root's furious glare swept across the gathered wolves. Then, his eyes fixed on me, and I froze.
If you've never been glared at by an Alpha wolf, let me give you an idea of what it feels like. It's like somebody dropped a tree branch on your back. An Alpha has an unquestionable authority about them, and their gaze carries a great pressure. It's like a hundred gazes all combined into one. Frankly, it's a little bit scary and more than a little unnerving, even for a wolf like me. You just sort of forget how to move, if that makes any sense. I hate that feeling, more than words can describe. I don't like feeling powerless. Luckily, I didn't feel that way for long.
A great wall of brown shoved its way between us, stopping in front of Ceraron and I. In the few seconds it took for my cognitive functions to return to me, Pavor had set his own glare on Root. The meaning was clear. It was a look that meant 'You may be Alpha, but I'm bigger and I can eat you'. Pavor made it perfectly clear that I was under his protection. If not for him, I'm fairly certain Root would have killed me. I'd fought the Alpha before, and it never ended well. I always lost. So I was very glad that my oversized friend was there to help me out of that situation.
That feeling of safety and relief was immediately ruined by the death glare burning into the back of my head courtesy of Lyna. She was and still is seriously unsettling, and I wished Pavor were standing between me and her instead. Honestly, I'd rather take Root on instead of her. However, that wasn't an option at the moment. And, against my better judgement, I turned to look at the mare. I instantly regretted it.
It's hard to describe exactly what happened. I felt as though I were falling. Falling into the ominous abyss of her eyes. Yes, eyes. I could see both of them at that moment as her forelock had shifted slightly. It was impossible to see anything except for that one cavernous eye. My gaze was immediately drawn to it and locked there, unable to move or blink. I felt cold, the kind of cold you'd expect to feel when you are about to die. When the realization dawns on you that life is brief, and yours is about to end. True, pure, instinctual fear.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to run away. Right tgen, I would have given anything just to be able to blink. Anything to break this literal death glare. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her shift somewhat. Her form became more sinister. The edges of my vision began to blur. For just a moment, I could have sworn I saw a bone jutting from her flank. One thing was clear. Lyna was not natural.
I didn't see the interaction between Root and Pavor. I didn't hear Ceraron turn to speak to me. I didn't hear a thing. Pressure began to build up in my head, like it was about to burst. It hurt like nothing ever hurt before. All I can only remember one thing in the following moments. A voice ringing like thunder inside my head. A deep, clear, authoritative voice. It wasn't Lyna's, and it definitely wasn't mine. It only lasted for a few seconds, but I'll never forget what it said.
"Monster."