A Pull

"How many mounts do you think they have?" a deep, gravelly voice asked, his words slow and deliberate as he and his companion eased themselves down from the window ledge where they'd been spying into a storage room.

The other man wiped the dust from his hands, eyes still narrowed in calculation.

"Judging by the size of that stockpile and the amount of feed they've stored," he muttered, "I'd say they have well over twenty thousand... Or maybe more."

A long silence ensued between them.

He needed not ask him the next question in his mind as he already knew the answer to it.

The drumbeats from the Crimson Veil ritual grounds echoed in the distance. Firelight danced in the sky as the ceremony for the Alpha's daughter unfolded. But in the quieter outskirts, near the inner compound of the pack house, two strangers moved like shadows.

One of them, tall and with broad shoulders wore the crimson soldier uniform too well. His thick beard and mustache however, betrayed a detail that didn't match the polished appearance of the pack's usual warriors. Beside him, his companion kept a watchful eye, fingers never far from the hilt of his blade.

They had slipped into the enemy territory just before the ceremony began, taking advantage of the distraction. The entire pack was gathered for the mate selection. It was the perfect time to scout and study their strength and vanish before anyone would notice them.

The first man bent low near a side entrance, surveying the weapon racks tucked behind the guard quarters. He nodded.

"They're armed more heavily than we thought," he said under his breath. His tone was expressionless and his companion could not guage a single of his emotions from his voice.

Whether it was of anger or disappointment, he couldn't tell what it was he felt.

His companion stepped closer. "We already know what we need now. Let's leave before the ceremony ends.I heard it's a selection for their Alpha's daughter. She'd soon be claimed and they'd tighten the patrol."

The man nodded, acknowledging the truth in what he had said but didn't move. He wanted to but he couldn't. He held on tightly to his chest as he steadied himself while standing.

"Are you alright, Alpha Damien?" The second man had rushed towards him, holding him to prevent him from falling as he had lost his balance.

He raised an arm and dismissed him. "We're soldiers here remember?" He responded angrily, noticing that his companion's care for him had almost given them out.

Something had shifted in the air and he had perceived the scent even though he didn't know why..It wasn't strong but more like a whisper, faint and elusive. But the moment it touched his senses, his entire body had gone still and he had lost control for a minute.

It happened so suddenly that he staggered back a step, inhaling deeply as he tried to anchor himself. But it only made it worse. His wolf was pacing under his skin, pushing at his chest and clawing toward the surface.

The man gritted his teeth as he was fighting it back. Not here. Not now. He couldn't surface because it would be hard to calm him down here if he did.

"What the hell is wrong?" his companion asked again, eyes scanning the area as he noticed him struggling to keep his wolf inside.

He shook his head. There was no answer he could give that made sense. His chest was tight. And his wolf wanted to surface, and in the enemies pack house of all places. This would not just expose him to danger but his companion as well.

He felt an unexplainable and deep pull. It was as though something in him had locked onto something unseen. And now it wouldn't let go. And now it was dragging him towards itself with him being unable to control where his body was leading him.

"We have to go," his companion pressed again.

But the man wasn't listening.

His legs moved on their own as he followed the pull in his chest like a compass drawn to true north. He didn't know where he was going. Only that he had to get there.

The halls grew narrower. Torches flickered against carved walls. Somewhere ahead, footsteps echoed faintly.

Then he saw her. He was mesmerized when he caught her face as she stood and exchanged words with the man she stood with. And he found himself unable to take his gaze off of her.Je couldn't hear what they were saying, but he had heard what Danika told him about looking in the mirror which made him assume her as rude.

A few minutes after, they saw her moving down the hallway, alone and towards their direction. The fabric of her ceremonial robe flowed around her like smoke. She didn't notice them at first. But his eyes never left her as he stared at both her and the dress.

He and his companion exchanged a glance. Without speaking, they moved toward a doorway they found at the edge of the corridor and stationed themselves like guards.

She drew closer.

The man felt the wolf in him grow still, unlike how disobedient it had been earlier.

She paused. Her eyes scanned them.

And then, with precision, she stepped directly at him and reached for the blade in his belt.

Before he could react, the cold edge was at his throat.

"Identify yourself," she said calmly, eyes burning into him with the rage that spiraled in her insides.

Her voice was stronger than he'd imagined. As if it were a voice used to being obeyed.

He met her gaze. "Soldier of Crimson Veil." He managed to mutter, hoping that she would take his word for it and die her suspicion.

Her eyes narrowed. "Impossible."

She didn't even blink. "I've known every man in my father's army since I could walk. Even the ones who serve in silence. Not one of them has a beard like yours."

He hesitated. His hand stayed still refusing to touch his hidden weapon. He couldn't harm her. He wouldn't dare do so when he was in her father's territory.

She was close enough that he could see the gold flecks in her eyes. And all the tales he'd heard about the Crimson Princess came flooding back.

They said she was breathtaking.

They were right and he couldn't deny it.

But they also said she was proud and haughty. A self conceited spoilt brat due to her father's position. And mostly that she thought herself above the rest. Not even sparing the lowly warriors a glance.

That, he now knew was partly a lie. She may have come off as rude with her first impression on him, but sje noticing that he wasn't a soldier of her father's pack had greatly surprised him.

Because here she was staring at him like she could read his soul, confident enough to know exactly who belonged to this place and who didn't. Even among the lowest of soldiers.

His throat bobbed beneath the blade. This was a first time someone was holding a blade to his neck. Worse it being a woman.

The tension snapped when his companion moved slightly behind him,hand twitching toward his sword, ready to strike if needed.

"Don't," the man growled under his breath, but he wasn't sure if the warning was for his companion or for himself.

Then, suddenly, a breeze blew through the hall.

The door beside them creaked and Danika turned her head slightly.

The door blew open and she looked inside, forgetting the man she was interrogating.

Her entire body froze. And as her hand trembled, the sword in her hand slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

For the first time, she looked afraid as she stared into the room.

And for the first time, he felt his wolf settle. Protective. Watching her, not the door. As if whatever was behind that door didn't matter.

Only she did.