Page 25 of The Wolf Moon

The Crone’s title was given to oracles, the female wolves being Meda and the male being Medan. The Mother’s title was given to those with the blessing of Mates, which was the most common of the titles in the pack. They called the females Gaho and the males Hago. And those blessed by the Maiden showed prowess and particular skill in hunting or fighting. They were called Tala for female and Alta for male.”

I instantly recalled the match against Cate in which many wolves wished me luck and garnished me with that name: Tala. It was a title, not a name. I felt strangely uncomfortable. It was as though in that moment they actually considered me a wolf like them and titled me as one. I was stunned.

“I want to help you, Mila,” Cynthia interrupted my thoughts carefully, “But I want you to seek answers from the Crone herself. Do you understand?”

I stared at her blankly.

“What?” I asked uncertainly. “You mean through the Crone’s Eye?”

“I believe you can receive her visions. And if you do so, I believe you can gain a better understanding of lycanthropes and of the King Alpha himself. It may help you learn what you need to succeed in your path,” She continued cautiously, as though unsure if I would completely run away at this point.

“I’ve never received any visions,” I said quickly, “I’m not actually an Oracle or anything. I’m just-” I stopped myself from repeating that phrase ‘just a girl’. But still Cynthia smiled at the unspoken words.

At some point, I had to start believing I wasn’t just some girl after all. There was always something strange about me. What typical girl could sway the wild and the wolves as I could? I could feel something within me, just resting under my skin. I could smell and feel things I couldn’t before. I was partially mated to the King Alpha of the Lycanthropes when mates weren’t even possible any longer.

“Fine, what do I have to do?” I muttered without allowing her to respond to my previous statements.

Cynthia stood gracefully, looking into the water quietly. Then she began to step forward, lowering herself into the water until it was to her waist. I expected the water to change as it had before, but it remained quiet and unmoving; not even a ripple in response to Cynthia’s presence. It was eerie.

She turned to me and held out a hand beckoningly.

I stared at her a moment, looking from her to the water below her. And then I pushed away my doubt and stood to follow her. I stepped into the water expecting it to be cold, but it was only just so as to be comfortable. The surface remained unmoving as I stepped through it curiously. I reached for Cynthia’s hand, taking it in mine breathlessly. She only glanced at the remaining cuff on my wrist, but said nothing about it.

“Lay back,” She said to me quietly, causing me to look behind me at the water surrounding me most suspiciously. “Trust me, Mila. I won’t let you be harmed.” I hesitated a moment longer, but then inhaled deeply before allowing my body to fall back until I was entirely in the water. I floated along the surface and when Cynthia released her grip on me, I felt entirely weightless as I stared into the darkness above us.

“Close your eyes,” Cynthia directed me, her voice becoming increasingly quieter. I blinked a few times; taking in the site of the darkness around us that seemed to be growing. My heart thudded louder than ever in my chest. I closed my eyes firmly.

I took a breath. Then I took another. And then a hand suddenly pressed firmly on my head, submerging my body completely into the water so abruptly that I inhaled in surprise. I expected to take in a large amount of water into my lungs, but instead it was as though I had fallen into a void. There was no water. There was no Cynthia. Not even I or my body seemed to exist. There was only the darkness moving around me.

I could suddenly see a flicker of images, like a flood of incoherent memories that must belong to someone other than me. Behind the images were various sounds trying to make sense of their surroundings. And behind the sound were whispers from something else entirely, telling me things normally impossible to know.

I saw a boy crouched in front of a tree, carving into it with a sharpened rock absently. I knew immediately it was Roman despite the fact that he was much younger in this vision. His skin was unmarred by battle, his eyes were soft from innocence, and an uncharacteristic smile was always light on his lips. He was probably about my younger brother’s age in this image.

I looked at the carving he was focused on to see him finishing the curve of a crescent moon; Artemis’ moon. In one moment, I knew nothing about him. In the next, I knew he was considered one of the Maiden’s wolves, like Diana claimed to be. Even at his young age, his loyalty as an Alta wolf was strong and the Maiden was kind in return. He was blessed. He was special.

A creature of the wild abruptly sprinted from the hidden depths of the bushes nearby. With speed startling even to me, Roman lifted his bow from the ground swiftly and launched an arrow at the animal, striking it expertly.

The image changed until only a few years had passed. Roman was sitting along a river next to his younger brother; they were almost identical. Roman was helping him carve his name into the hilt of his favorite knife. By now, Roman could shift into his wolf form, but he remained with his family on the outskirts of the pack. Many in the Trinity pack expected him to begin rising among their ranks, but he preferred the peace and quiet of his current life.

Again the image changed and with it came a sense of urgent panicking. I could hear screams of horror around me. And in place of the younger Roman was one nearly full grown, standing in the doorway of a burning home. His chest heaved with harsh breaths as he stared at the scene before him.

His family was strewn across the floor; blood and broken items scattered among them. His mother was mangled immediately in front of him, as though she had been killed the moment she opened the door. His father was further in, a hole burned into his chest dangerously. And his younger brother was nearby, a deep wound buried into his neck and the remains of a weapon driven into his heart.

Roman knew it was the humans. They had come in a small army, attacking the wolves on the outskirts of the packs in many places. He could hear their cries even as his remained silent. Without a word, he turned away from his burning home and began to walk towards the wolf village.

As he walked, a power roared deep within him. It rippled along his rage and touched any lycanthrope he came to pass. The pack followed him almost in a daze. They were mesmerized by his hatred and by his call.

Roman stood before the highest statuses among them. And without hesitation, he began to strike them down. He ascended from his stance of peace, cutting through the ranks that challenged him, until the final blow was landed on the Alpha himself.

He turned to the pack and with one word, he was King.

“Submit,” He ordered, a familiar power roaring within him and demanding the wolves to obey even if they didn’t want to. It was the Maiden’s blessing; rarely given to any in the history of existence. But Roman, he was special. With this blessing, he would rule all the packs. And with the packs, he would get his revenge on the humans.

Twelve

Chapter 11

Imade my way back to Roman’s home in something of a daze. Coming from the visions felt similar to waking up from a vivid dream. Time was lost and in it so was connecting actions. Somehow I had left the temple and somehow I had ended up crawling up the side of Roman’s house, having decided to come back without even knowing when the decision was made.

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