Captured by the Heavens Alphas

Holly snarled a curse as the thick brambles wound their thorny claws through her dark hair. Whoever decided that poisonous plants should only be cultivated and found deep within the wood surrounding her pack lands should be bit. Hard. Preferably on the ass, for making her have to wade through so many thorny shrubs and prickling vines.

Her once white blouse was speckled with blood and covered in little tears. Just like the sensitive skin on her arms and the back of her pale hands. She'd be scratching at them for the rest of the day at this rate.

All to get some fucking poison. It really should be easier. Though, she supposed if it was easier everyone might run around poisoning everyone else all willy-nilly. Maybe. It was hard to say if others had whatever moral deficiency she contained within her breastbone that led her to feeling like this eye for an eye action was correct.

But it was. She was going to fucking kill them and it would be well deserved. Righteous even. And if the pack tore her piece from piece afterwards? So be it.

She was prepared to weather all possible storms of bodily torture if she was caught. Even if she really really hoped she wouldn’t be.

She shouldn’t be. Wouldn't be. It was a good plan. Not foolproof, but close enough that it should work.

Slipping mistletoe berries into the mulled wine she’d be presenting to the Heavens Pack Alphas should go unnoticed. Even with a wolf's impressive sense of smell it would be nearly impossible for them to pick out the scent of the pearly white berries surrounded by the citrus, cinnamon, clove, and other spices fighting for the spotlight. And if anyone did smell the berries, well, the feast hall was already done up with boughs of holly and flashes of mistletoe over every door.

No one would suspect the wine.

Then, later, the pain would begin. The delirium. The internal damage that even a werewolf would struggle to heal from. And then? Death. And for her, peace. Revenge.

It was more than warranted.

It was what they deserved. For her father. For her. For every cold moment she endured on her own since they took him from her.

It was going to end. Tonight. Whether or not she’d survive to see the next dawn was immaterial. It will end. Her quest for revenge would be over. And once it was over, only then, would she take stock.

But first, she had to harvest these stupid fucking berries.

She was deep in the woods now. The forest was so thick here that the weak winter light could barely pierce through to the shaded ground. No one should find her, spy on her, or question her presence. Really, it would be more strange for her to meet another soul here than not.

Ah. There.

In the crook of an old oak, the parasitic plant preened, green despite the winter's chill. Mistletoe. A sweet yuletide plant. Decorative, symbolic of warmth of the hearth through winter, loves first kiss..

And deadly, if used correctly.

Really this was a much better plan than her previous one. The one where she would rush the heavens castle, sword drawn, canines bared, and try to cut through each and every noble on her way towards the zenith of her revenge.

Less, flashy, less potent, less likely to end with her head on a pike. Yes. This was the way to go.

And to think, she’d only thought of it that morning.

No one would ever accuse her of being patient and calculating but Holly liked to think she more than made up for that in pure gall.

And that's what helped her survive all these years alone. Gall and backbone, pure and simple.

The truth was wolves weren't meant to be alone. They thrived off of the close community ties in their pack, so for her, to lose her entire pack when she was only eight was really a devastating blow.

Yes, Aunt Criselda took her in as a pup. But she was a cold and bitter old woman who never bothered to see to it that Holly was accepted in her new home. And so she wasn't.

It was fine. It was totally fine. Holly could play the lone wolf. It gave her time to stew in her own bitterness and plan her revenge.

She wasn't sure how many berries would be necessary. There were four targets. The king and his three nephews. The Heavens Triplets. Each more powerful and dangerous than the last.

Rumor had it that the triplets were planning to betray the king and take his throne. Rumors in the packlands were always so sensational. And never substantiated.

But… she'd seen them arrive that morning. One of them at least. She'd spotted him from where she stood in the crowd. His square jaw illuminated by the morning light, the winter sun cast a blue sheen to his black hair. He was handsome. Undeservedly so. And yet…

There was something in his grey eyes. Something cold and callous. Something she recognized on a basal level.

Murderer. Killer. Predator.

Just like her.

And who better to kill a pack of predators than another predator?

They were in her territory now, she was about to make them rue the day they were born.

A sharp smile lit her face and she proceeded to pick every berry off the plant.