A Journey's Start (S)

A bad start, I admit. I should've kept my mouth shut, but because of my own safety, I didn't. Not to say I was wrong how long it would take us. As of right now, I'm staring at the walls of the cave. We're deeper in, but had to stop and wait for the wolves that got left behind. Apparently, the Tyrant has some semblance of...responsibility for the wolves in his pack. So I'm sitting on a damp rock a few steps away from the group, occasionally glancing at them. The others have dressed in clothes they brought.

Not Malphas. No. He's swinging his 'weapon' around like it's a show, completely comfortable with everyone being able to see everything. 

Well, almost everyone. I certainly am not.

Sighing, I look away from the group once again, casting my gaze to the darkness of the path within this cave. It’s dark, damp, smelling like wet dog. Humidity is high, causing the tunnel to feel stuffy. I know the way well, but the darkness makes me uneasy. There is torches placed on the stony walls, each a reasonable distance to provide visibility when lit. Except they aren’t.

I stand up, steadily going over to the one across from me. The smell of burning wick lingers by it. We change the torches every month, and these ones were changed a week ago, so the dried grass saturated in fat should be reasonably burnt through. From what I can make out in the darkness, it’s barely been lit. Which is odd, because Gideon had definitely been to the village on the other side of the mountain a few days ago. He never kills the fire, leaving it for anyone who needs to go through.

Unless he did. By the faint smell, a while ago at that. Before Malphas invaded. Before the priest rang the bell.

My eyes narrow as I ponder, eyes going to the left as I start walking towards the second torch. Approximately 15 steps or so, I reach it. Same thing. Faint smell, fire was fair time ago.

“How odd…” I mumble to myself, reaching out with my hand to touch the compressed dried material it’s made of.

“What is?” The deep voice startles me and I flinch, swiveling around and conveniently twisting my left foot with. I wince, quickly trying to mask the pain with the fear I feel towards Malphas. His glowing red eyes flick down towards my foot.

“The torches…they should be lit.” I draw his attention back to my face, only for heat to once again overcome me. It’s a very unfamiliar feeling in my belly, like hot coal moving around, spreading the heat further. The red eyes adorning his scowling, bearded face are terrifying. Seeing that in the dark is like out of a fable you tell children so they wouldn’t misbehave and wonder off. Makes me shiver.

“Should they?” He glances behind me stepping closer to me. I almost glance down as his body inches closer to mine, lifting my head up so I can point my eyes the same way. It’s extremely hard not to stare. Especially because he’s built like he was sculpted by careful, artistic hands. Though his age shows on his skin, he’s in tip top shape. His smell is woody, like dirt, sweat and strong pheromones. It’s intense, invading, and I have to take a careful step back away from him.

“Yeah,” I reply, clearing my throat in between, “They’re always lit. But, someone seems to have blown them out.” My words are careful. I don’t want to repeat what happened just under half an hour ago. Keeping my distance while being obedient is what matters.

“Hrnn,” he grunts, eyes going down to mine, “Who was it?”

It’s an accusing question. As if he’s suspicious of me, yet I had no way of doing it. And the only one who does blow out the torches is Gideon. I hesitate, the answer lingering on the tip of my tongue. I want to protect his memory, whatever is left of my loyalty to him. But, I don’t want to lie. Lying will get me nowhere with Malphas.

“Gideon. He always did it. But, they should be lit. So…” As I answer, I look away. The bitter guilt makes the back of my throat tighten. I somehow know what this means. It can’t just be coincidence. Either Gideon knew Malphas was coming this way, or he was preparing for the worst ahead of time.

‘But why?’ That question remains unanswered.

Awkward silence stretches between us. Malphas keeps staring like he’s trying to unravel the mysteries of my mind, his gaze travelling from my face to my neck and chest. I feel exposed. Like he can see through the clothes I’m wearing. And I’m having trouble with keeping my eyes on his or away from his muscular torso.

He takes a sudden step forward, closing the little distance I had put between us. I step back, effectively trapping myself between stone and the Lycan behemoth. He lifts his arms, resting his hands at either side of me. I bring my shoulders up, eyes wide as leans closer. My heart leaps, speeding up from fear, confusion and embarrassment from his obvious nudity. I can only stare into the glowing red pools that keep on searching mine. His scent becomes stronger, burning through my nose and making me hold my breath.

“Can you smell me?” He say, the rumble of his rich, rough voice softer and smoother. My hears tingle, goosebumps rising everywhere. The heat in my belly spreads up, heating the skin around my collarbones and neck. He looks down, noticing the change. I swallow thickly.

“Yes.” It’s a breathy reply as I try not to inhale too much of the intense aroma.

“Does it affect you?” He prods further.

“No.” I quickly say. I know what he’s checking. If I’m affected by the Alpha scent, if it’s causing my instincts to respond and ultimately make me a subject to its’ effects. If the Omega in me really exists.

“Yet you can smell it.” He observes.

“Yes. I have a good sense of smell.” ‘The one thing I have that makes me a part of the chain.’

“Hmm.” The hum sends pins and needles down my spine. He draws closer, ducking his head lower until his nose touches the skin on my neck. My heart skips a beat, before hammering like it’s fighting my ribcage. He inhales and a shot of something pierces through my lower belly to my core, causing an unfamiliar tightness. I feel my breath becoming rapid, sweat prickling on my forehead. He stays there for a good few seconds, dragging his nose down my neck to my collarbones. He shifts, his body inching closer until I feel his hips press gently against my stomach. As if I’ve been struck by lightning, my mind draws blank and my body moves on its’ own. My knees dip and I use the space I have to go under his arm, escaping this unexpected, intense interaction with him. As soon as I’m a step away from him, the lava inside me dies down.

He moves away from the wall, slow and controlled, red orbs blazing even more as a bone chilling growl comes from his throat. I still entirely. His gaze. It’s different. With it, his scent shifts, becoming more of a Lycan. If I wasn’t attuned to changes in wolves, I wouldn’t have recognized it. If Gideon didn’t give me his guidance, when everyone else shunned me, I would’ve missed it.

It’s rich moment of recognition that passes between us. His brows twitch into a deeper scowl and my eyes narrow. There’s blood-thirst written all over him.

That isn’t Malphas.

That…is someone else.