Chapter 2: Chapter2

#Chapter2

My lip parted, but no words came out. They tried to, mouth opening and closing half a dozen times, but eventually it closed, forcing back a dry swallow.

A month of my life? There was no need to check if I'd heard right. Only she could demand something so . . . grotesque?

But what was a month to a man like me? Growing up a rogue, there had been a part of me that had never expected to live to see eighteen. When I had, I saw it as delaying the inevitable. Becoming Alpha had been a disturbance to the status quo. It was an honour that was passed down from father and son, and so on and so forth. And whilst the title was open to challenge, it rarely happened. Bound to their Alpha by loyalty, it was something that the Lelux frowned upon.

So it had left a bad taste in all their mouths when a rogue, which had been as good as unheard of, had demanded a shot at the title.

The act had earned more enemies than allies; reaching a ripe old age had never been on the cards for me.

But even still, what she was asking . . . my skin crawled. Thump-a-dump-dumping against my chest so damn hard that it was a wonder the thing didn't burst free, my heart hit the accelerator. Started a rebellion and had my lungs hitting the default button. It took longer than I cared to admit to regain an element of control.

/"And you will tell me what I want to know about the boy?/"

Three nights ago, the moon had reached its peak, forcing the beasts that lived beneath our skins to break free. The forms the Goddess had blessed us with - or cursed us with, depending on who you asked - had risen, enhancing our senses and inviting the wildness inside to take the wheel. As a pack, we would hunt. The earth beneath us, the moon above us, and a world of infinities within, it was the closest one could come to complete freedom.

But something had changed. The scent that we'd been tracking for months, an unknown intruder who'd marked my territory, had presented itself again. Led us around and around, toying with us. Until it shepherded us to the most unexplainable of sights: a little boy, two at best, imprisoned within the thick roots of a dying maple tree. The kid had been out cold, barely clothed and icy to the touch. But the real freaky shit started after taking him home and he gained consciousness.

Unable to find answers, the Vidua had been my last, and most desperate, resort.

/"I will tell you what you need to know,/" she corrected.

Having come too far, and with little choice left, I agreed.

Leaning forward, dust exploding from the cushion behind her, she held out a gnarled hand. Ignoring the way every instinct screamed at me to run, the way the small voice at the back of my head roared at me to snatch my hand back, I took it. Shook. A sharp jolt erupted through my palm, travelling right up to my collar bone before fading to a lowly tingle.

The sealing of the deal.

/"He's unlike anything I've ever seen./" Pulling back into the chair, I gathered the now twitching limb to my chest, pinning it in place with my other arm. /"He has no scent./"

Which was impossible. Or should have been. Much like fingerprints, scents held a uniqueness. Some were similar, but no two were ever the same. Not completely. They varied, and some were more pungent or assertive than others . . . but everything had a scent. Or should have.

And although it wasn't among the most alarming events that had occurred since the brat had unleashed a web of chaos upon my life, it was among the top three. It made me uneasy. And that was putting it nicely.

/"Anger has brought you far in life, little wolf king, but it will take you no further. Abandon it, or a darkness unlike any other will be unleashed upon this earth. All shall suffer, but you above all else./"

/"Well,/" I said dryly, /"That's not morbid at all./"

Ignoring me, she continued. /"Hatred has been your only companion, but that does not mean it is your only ally. The forgotten rise, and forces unlike any other gather. You'll need all the aid you can get./"

/"I asked you about the boy,/" I said. Like the business end of a whip, her gaze slashed deep. /"Not for a therapy session./"

/"Laugh, laugh, laugh,/" she said darkly. /"But watch how quickly that mockery fades./" Consulting her palms once again, peering into the wrinkly mitts, she shook her head. /"The boy is something old, yet something new. Something impossible, yet something true./"

Perhaps we were moving onto fortune cookies instead?

She wasn't saying anything. Not really. Nonsense gift-wrapped in a shiny paper, but her words still had a lump forming, wedging itself deeply in the base of my throat. A fucking baseball would have been smoother to chew down. Or a porcupine.

/"The strings of destiny have been tied. Your path, his, from this point, they join. Heed this, little wolf: Mirrors reflect, and if you offer only anger and hatred, you will live to see it thrown back./"

/"What does that even mean?/" A scratching noise broke out. Like a thousand little claws scuttling against the floorboards. A shudder ran down the length of my spine. Had the hairs on my arm lifting, clearing a path for the stampede of goosebumps that followed.

In the dull light, a sinister lustre sharpened the ridges of the Vidua's face, bringing to focus the prominent purse of her lips. One after the other, her hands lowered to her lap, curling into the fabric of the tatty, grey blanket that covered her lower half. /"From this day, to your last day, Sterling Grey, this child is now of your making. Feed him your anger, feed him your incessant thirst for violence and this world, everything you've ever known, it will turn to ashes beneath your very feet. He will be of your own design. Fail him and you fail us all./"

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