Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Elijah

“Well, where is she, then?” Caslein asked. His pale eyes twinkled, though his dark skin was sallow with exhaustion.

Elijah sighed. He’d missed Caslein. But he hadn’t missed the light, joking tone that weaved between his every word. Lily was… serious. She wasn’t a joke to him.

Ithia flicked a stray lock of golden, wavy hair behind her shoulder. Elijah’s heart lurched, and then a fond, familiar warmth settled in his chest. He’d missed them both.

“Yes. I did so wish to meet the girl that dragged you away from us for – how long was it again, Cas?”

Caslein brought a sweeping hand to his forehead. “The pain makes it hard for me to recall. I only know that each day felt longer than the last.”

Elijah rolled his eyes. “She’s resting – as your wits should be, too.”

Though Lily and Elijah both had been eager for her to meet the rest of his pack, he’d gently coaxed her towards his cabin. They’d wiled away hours nestled close in the pine forest, legs tangled, hearts entwined. The mere memory of it brought a soft, sanguine smile to his lips.

They were both exhausted from their journey, and neither of them had had a proper wash since Entra. Tempted though he’d been to stay with her, to bathe with her, he’d forced the winding, intoxicating feeling of the bond to recede. In any other circumstance, nothing could have parted them. But Caslein and Ithia had demanded an audience with him, citing important information that had arisen in his absence as the reason for it – alongside the fact that they’d missed him, too.

“Tell us about her, then.” Caslein bumped his shoulder against Elijah’s. “We’re dying to know.”

They rounded the pack house, curving towards the small market square that sat near the centre of their territory. Lily had seen the large building and started towards it on instinct, but Elijah had gently tugged her past the pack house.

“You don’t live there?” she’d asked, her head cocking to one side as they’d dipped back beneath the shade of the pines fringing the building. “I thought the Alpha always lived in the pack house.”

“Not me,” he’d shrugged. Inside, however, turmoil had raged. Would she think him unusual? Would such a difference matter to her? The bond had been quick to soothe such unease. They were mated; therefore, they were destined to be, to belong.

Lily had hummed her assent, her focus quickly shifting to the arching trees and spindly wildflowers. “It’s beautiful,” she’d said, fingertips reaching out to trace the shifting grasses.

“Yes,” he’d agreed, watching her face as she smiled. The cut down her face had healed into a shiny pink line, and it moved with her muscles as she searched the grounds for animals and plants. Her dark blonde hair turned brown in the shade, making her look as though she’d grown from the forest itself. She was no longer a creature of sunlight, but the shadows became her. “Yes, it is beautiful.”

Elijah turned to Caslein. Ithia pulled him to a sharp halt, and they fell into a loose circle, all facing one another. Elijah had his answer.

“She is everything,” he said simply. “Seeing her… it all blurs, even as the world comes into focus, sharper and clearer than it ever has been before.”

“Do you love her?” Ithia wondered aloud. “It sounds like love.”

“No,” Elijah said, and the word sounded hollow. “The bond itself does not cause love. The bond is the spark that starts the fire; love follows, a slow burn that may flicker and fade at times, but then roars back into sharp relief against the aching loneliness of the dark.”

Caslein snorted. “Glad she was worth it.”

Wolves of all ranks cleared up the last of the day’s market fares, weaving beneath the lamplight as they packed candied fruits and intricate glasswork into wide wooden crates. Those that noticed them bowed to Elijah, their faces lighting up in recognition. And, though he had missed his pack, his people, now was not the time for fond greetings. He nodded and smiled to those that caught his eye, and for some he pressed a hand to his heart, but his Beta and his Gamma towed him out of sight before too many could converge upon him.

“They’ve missed you too, you know,” Ithia muttered under her breath. “You cannot leave them – or us – for so long again.”

“I know.” Elijah’s voice was grave. Blinded by the bond, the gravity of his actions had been lost on him while he’d been away. It was a relief to see everything unchanged upon his return, but the darkness sheltering in both Ithia and Caslein’s eyes made fear churn in his gut.

“I do not take what either of you did for me lightly,” he continued. “It is enough for an Alpha to leave his pack, no matter the circumstances. But with such speed, and at a time of unrest… I must apologise.”

“Your apology is not needed.” Ithia touched his elbow.

“But it is appreciated,” Caslein interjected.

“It is given gladly.”

A small thicket of trees beckoned them towards the southernmost crest of the pack’s inner circle. Most of the houses and farmland flowed from the western side to the centre, where the soil was most fertile and the most Warrior Wolves were. Elijah, Ithia, and Caslein were the main defence to the east – alongside the tightly knotted pine forest that made organised warfare from that direction impossible.

The things that, to Elijah, made the pack lands alive – the things that allowed his people to live, to truly live, rather than to just survive – settled in the inner centre of their territory. The places that were the most fragile became, by their very location, the most protected. They’d passed the bustling market square, and something solid came to rest on Elijah’s shoulders.

He knew where they were going. He’d known all along.

Every serious conversation he’d ever had with his Beta and Gamma had taken place at the memorial. The silence between them spread and settled, gnawing away at him with every step they took.

A tall, worn stone rose into the night sky. Gossamer strands of pearlescent gold streaked through the darkness, the last of the day’s sunlight glinting off the old lettering on the stone’s front. Elijah closed his eyes. He didn’t need to read it to know what it said.

From the earliest days of the Sea Pine pack, every wolf that had given their life in its name had theirs etched into the stone. Every side had been filled, and in later years another two smaller stones had been added, one on either side. Elijah sighed, finally opening his eyes. They shot to the rough-hewn side of the left-hand stone, where his parents’ names were.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d learnt to deal with the pain a long time ago. It was a burn beneath his skin, ever present but manageable. It rose, unbidden, as he turned away from the memorial. He had to focus.

“So,” Elijah said, settling on the long, wooden bench that wound around the edge of the clearing. Shifting so that he was facing Ithia and Caslein – and away from the memorial – he continued. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about Lily – after you’ve filled me in.”

Caslein crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, but Ithia nodded.

“We’ve given the farmers permission to take down a square kilometre of pine trees to the south of their arable land. These will be stored for building, and half their number will be replanted across our territory.”

“At this time, edible crop is more in demand than wood,” Elijah agreed. “But the saplings will take decades to mature. Our location has made tree farming unnecessary in the past, but perhaps as our pack expands it would be worth putting our energy and resources into planting other wood for timber. The forest is not only our home, and our pack’s namesake, but also a key natural defence. We cannot take much more of it down.”

“Something quick-growing, then,” Caslein hummed. “Willow? Aspen? Poplar?”

“Bamboo?” Ithia suggested.

Elijah cocked his head. “Bamboo would work. Or I was thinking of Nottsdraft.”

Caslein smacked his forehead. “Obviously.” But, quickly, he sobered. “We can discuss the finer points of timber later, though. There are more pressing things to talk about.”

Elijah’s body was knotted tight. He tried to forcibly relax his shoulders – to no avail. “Tell me.”

“We’ve upped our patrols.” Caslein scrubbed a hand across his short hair. The shining rings on his fingers dulled as the sun was sucked below the horizon. “I’m not going to lie, Alpha – you cut it close with your return. The full moon is days away.”

“There’s no word on who Blood Moon are planning to bully this time round,” Ithia added. “The other packs close to us seem to be staying out of the fighting this month, as usual, which is a small blessing.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “A small blessing?”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something – something awful – was coming. He gritted his teeth.

“The Goldtail pack have warned us that their neighbours to the west, the Oak Runners, plan to make a move on their northern allies.”

Elijah stilled. “On… on their allies?”

Caslein nodded, his face grim. “Yeah.”

Ithia cracked her knuckles, staring up into the clouded sky. “Our spies have reported increased unrest, even between packs that have been allied for decades. Red Ripper is making everyone uneasy – and some power hungry. They want to utilise the unrest for their own gain.”

“There are even rumours that other creatures may join the fighting,” Caslein said, shifting uneasily. “I don’t dare imagine what Blood Moon would do with a giant.”

Elijah stood abruptly. “I’m more concerned by what Red Ripper might do with one. They are the catalyst.”

“So, Alpha,” Ithia said, coming to stand beside him. She laid a hand on the inner crook of his elbow. “What do we do?”

Elijah’s gaze moved swiftly to the memorial. In an instant he found the two names his heart ached to see. Keeping his eyes fixed on them until his vision blurred with unshed tears, at last he spoke.

“We do whatever it takes to keep Sea Pine safe.”