Chapter 6: A Surprise Visit

Chapter 6

Theron glanced up as the tent flap opened, the morning light streaming in softly. Commander Cael barely glanced his way— Maera had simply walked in and gone over to the section of the tent reserved for her. She seemed to be arranging daggers and knives absentmindedly and it made Theron worried.

He had expected comments, or maybe even weird stares from the corners of Cael’s eyes, but Cael gave him nothing.

“Were you outside last night? Guarding like you were asked to?” Theron said, finally breaking the silence that felt awkward to him.

“Yes Alpha,” Maera responded with indifference in her voice. “Is anything the matter?”

“No.”

But there was a matter. He has wanted Cael to show maybe discomfort? Or have a knowing smile.

As much as Theeon did not want to admit it to himself, he had made love to Lunara last night, loud enough to prove a point to Cael. And now… nothing.

Now, it seemed like his efforts were a waste.

He felt stupid even.

Why should he have expected Cael to get jealous of him making love loudly to a woman when Cael was not his lover.

Cael was a man— a normal one, unlike him who was starting to feel things that were abominable.

Mæra began to hum as she sharpened the last dagger. She placed it in her boots and then began to decorate herself in spots that no person would ever normally think to add daggers.

Maybe that was why he was always prepared. Thought Theron to himself.

He kept on walking back and forth, observing her every movement. Finally, Mæra turned to face him.

“Is there a problem, Alpha Theron?” she asked.

“No,” Theron spluttered. “Why do you ask that?”

“You keep pacing back and forth and hovering around me. Are you not meant to prepare for battle? Rather than watching what I am doing, do something meaningful. Get yourself prepared. Put on your war armor for goddess sake.” She felt cranky and overstimulated and Theron was not helping.

“I shan’t be going into battle today with you today,” Theron told her.

Mæra took a step forward and lifted her brows. “What do you mean you are not going into battle? Or do you mean you are fighting with the wolves at the mountain side?”

“No. I am not going on my horse. I am not going as a wolf. I am staying behind.”

Mæra scoffed and turned away, muttering under her breath. “Wow, what a king.”

“What did you say?” He asked. He had heard it, but wanted to know if he was bold enough to repeat it.

She said nothing in response which frustrated him.

“You’re the one who mentioned we need better long term strategy, I am staying behind to work on that.”

“I didn’t ask,” she retorted, a cocky smirk on her face. “Why are you defending your decisions?”

“Because you… you questioned—“

“Who am I to question the decision of the Supreme Alpha?” Maera gasped, placing her hand on her chest dramatically. “I shan’t even dare question a district Alpha.”

“Bold words for a man with a mouth as sharp as a woman’s.”

Mæra’s chest pricked for a second too long.

For a man with a mouth as sharp as a woman’s. Naya deadpanned in her head. Do not be paranoid.

Right?

She strode towards the tent's entrance.

“You do realize wherever I am, there you shall be also?” Theron called out.

She paused as her hand shifted the flap open. “I’m aware of that.”

“So you’re not going into battle.”

“Of course not. Long term strategy planning as you said— although not much planning on your part if you’re just informing me.”

Theron chose to ignore the last part of her statement. “So where are you going?”

She walked off without responding.

Towards the west end of the camp ground, there appeared to be some sort of commotion. The men were gathered there, laughing and jesting, while someone stood in their midst.

“Such a scrawny little thing.”

“Was training to be a warrior before? Stick to being a messenger.”

“I would like to understand why you all are not preparing for battle, and why you are out here, Justin,” Mæra called out loudly in her strongest voice possible.

The soldiers paused immediately, turning sharply to face her. Some of them fidgeted while others had a look of nonchalance plastered on their faces. She lifted her brows at one of them, who seemed to be too defiant, then pulled out a dagger and hurled it at his ear.

The dagger embedded itself deeply in his ear.

“Just so you know,” Mæra said in a deadly, cold voice, “I never miss.”

The man bit back his scream and held his ear painfully, removing the dagger and throwing it to the floor. He said nothing, out of fear, and parted.

In the centre stood a short, stocky boy. It was the messenger who was on trial to be a warrior, the same one who had given her the note from Alpha Theron. It was none other than Yule.

Her brow was furrowed in confusion. She had left him at Valemount, and he had said nothing about following her. So, it was quite baffling to see him standing there, quite red-faced.

“Yule! What in the heavens are you doing here?” she asked.