07

Chapter 7

The pre-dawn sky was still a bruised purple when Curtis announced, "Alruna, I'm leaving." The air thrummed with the nervous energy of the village; wives were seeing their husbands off to the border, a familiar ritual tinged with fresh anxiety.

My playful threat followed, a thin veil over my genuine fear. “You’ve packed everything I told you to, right? If you leave even one thing behind, I’ll follow you to the border, five children in tow.” Ryull and Skoll's laughter drifted from the yard, a comforting sound despite the circumstances.

Curtis, ever practical, patted the massive pack on his back. "Don't worry, it's all there." Then, I give him my surprise, the carefully concealed gift I'd been saving. The sight of the high-quality, cold-weather boots and thick leather gloves stopped him mid-sentence. His eyes widened.

“Your hands are constantly cut up from handling weapons. I had these made, ensuring they wouldn’t interfere with your grip…” I began, but he cut me off with a hug, his gratitude overwhelming.

He held up the boots and gloves, examining them. "These are expensive. Commissioning them in town would've cost at least two gold coins." I waved away his concerns.

"Curtis," I said, my voice firm despite the tremor in my chest, "I don't care if you come back missing a limb. What matters is that you come back alive." The stark reality of the battlefield hung between us; warriors, knowing their time was up, often chose a glorious death over a slow, agonizing decline.

A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. "That's a rather unconventional good luck message. Shouldn't you be telling me to avoid getting injured? You always say that before I head to the mountains."

I met his gaze, my heart heavy. "I don't want you to hold back, Curtis, but I also want you to give it everything you've got." I took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Come back alive. Come back safe."

He bent, his lips brushing my cheek in a tender kiss before he turned to leave. "No matter what," he murmured, his voice low, "even if I have to crawl, I'll come home." The words, laced with quiet determination, brought a smile to my lips.

As Curtis joined the other men setting off for the border, I called Ryull and Skoll over. They approached with a cautious alertness. Freya and Raven, ever efficient, appeared with two eco-bags, handing them to Skoll.

"You both know how effective my remedies are, and you know how to use them," I said, my voice firm.

Ryull's response was immediate. "We can't pay you." The bags were overflowing with every type of medicine I'd crafted.

"Keep Curtis safe," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "When you return, there will be a feast. Plenty of alcohol, plenty of meat. But most importantly, come back safe."

They accepted the bags, Ryull bowing deeply. I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. They, like Curtis, were orphans, their bond forged in the crucible of the border, a brotherhood born of shared hardship and mutual respect.

As they disappeared down the road, Curtis glanced back, offering a final wave. My wave back was accompanied by a silent vow. "Whatever happens," I whispered to myself, "I'll support your dreams. I'll fight for our children's future, for a peaceful kingdom, a good life for us."

My resolve hardened. I immediately summoned Lunette and Eris, the two betas assisting me with my herbal remedies. With the children’s enthusiastic help, we began cultivating herbs on the plot of land the village chief had granted me, constructing a small shelter for shade and rest.

My beauty product business was booming, and the demand for my emergency medicines was steadily increasing. I needed more hands.

One of my neighbors, noticing our activity, asked, "What are you doing? I heard you're short-staffed. Can I help?"

Soon, other women joined, drawn by the opportunity to earn money and contribute.

"Perfect!" I exclaimed, my heart soaring.

In a short time, I had assembled a dedicated group of women eager to learn the craft of herbal medicine and beauty products. Their enthusiasm intensified when they learned that a significant portion of our production would be sent to the border, supporting the very men fighting for their safety. Under my guidance, their families thrived, even in the absence of their husbands.

One neighbor, noticing Corea’s distress, offered to soothe the child. The collaborative childcare arrangement eased the burden on all of us.

While separating herbs, I noticed increased patrols. "I thought all the men were at the border," I commented to Lunette.

"Curtis's groups are exceptionally organized. He recalls warriors when the village needs them. I heard he's brought back many since securing the east and recruiting new soldiers, tightening security here," Lunette explained. I was both surprised and relieved.

Eris added, "I believe we'll reclaim more territory and close the gate within three years, especially with Skoll and Ryull's return."

The compliments from our neighbors about my good fortune with Curtis filled me with a quiet pride. It was a good feeling, a deserved feeling.

Later, at the border…

A shout ripped through the air, "Run! They're here!"

The bandits, recently entrenched in the area, watched nervously as Curtis's group approached. He led the charge, Ryull and Skoll flanking him, their werewolf forms imposing and terrifying.

The bandit leader’s furious roar echoed across the battlefield. "Curtis! You damn beast! You actually dared to return!" Six group of his men had fallen to Curtis's blade the previous night. Curtis's men laughed at the leader's impotent rage. These bandits had occupied the territory recently, treating the locals with brutal contempt.

"Where's all that bravado now? Curtis is here!"

One of the bandits, foolishly underestimating their opponent, suggested they could easily overcome the smaller force. The survivor of Curtis's previous night's attack, however, screamed a warning. "What are you saying?! That's how many they were when they wiped out six of our groups!"

Curtis cut short the taunts. "Enough talk. Let's finish this." His sword flashed, and the battle began. He moved with a terrifying efficiency, two or three bandits falling with each precise strike.

The bandit leader, desperate, bellowed, "Take down Curtis first!" Nine men charged, but Ryull and Skoll were already upon them, their brutal assault shattering the bandits' ranks.

"Boss, those aren't ordinary wolves," a terrified bandit gasped, "They never leave Curtis's side!" The leader cursed, realizing Curtis's stamina was superhuman; he'd been fighting relentlessly since the previous night.

The battle was swift and brutal. Another city in the west fell to Curtis's might, Faolan, ever opportunistic, presenting the bandit leader's severed head as a trophy.

The cheers for Faolan were loud, but a simmering resentment brewed amongst Curtis's men. Faolan was shamelessly seizing the glory that rightfully belonged to Curtis.

A comrade offered Curtis water. He accepted gratefully, then, biting the end of his glove, he pulled it off and began washing his hands in the river water.

Faolan's sharp voice cut through the air. "You're wasting water! Do we have an endless supply?" Curtis ignored him.

The comrade quickly defended himself, "That water's not from our supplies, Alpha Faolan. I got it from the river so Curtis could wash his hands." Faolan's glare was venomous, demanding to know if the man had been ordered to speak.

Curtis, his patience finally exhausted, turned to Faolan. "Alpha Faolan, if you have some free time, perhaps you could help set up tents for our men." His tone was flat, devoid of any respect.

Faolan, enraged, grabbed Curtis by the collar. "Are you ordering me around?!" he roared, accusing Curtis of arrogance.

Ryull and Skoll, still in their wolf forms, let out low growls, their eyes fixed on Faolan. One of Faolan's friends quickly intervened, pulling him back. "Faolan, don't provoke him."

Four days later, the tension reached a breaking point. Skoll and Ryull simultaneously transformed, their uncontrolled wolf forms a terrifying display of raw power, loyal only to Curtis. The threat of their attack hung heavy in the air.

One of Curtis's men suggested sending Faolan back to the village. "He won't leave you alone."

Curtis shook his head. "No one in this kingdom follows anyone but the alpha. We need Faolan, at least to help move people to safety place without complain."

As they talked, a small child approached, tugging at Curtis's cloak. A three-year-old, his eyes wide with awe, looked up at him.

"Huh?" Curtis murmured, kneeling. His comrade exchanged amused glances.

One whispered, "Yikes, is that Curtis?" His friend nudged him. "He's got kids, it's natural he's soft with children."

The child blurted out, "I want to be an alpha like you!"

Curtis chuckled, "I'm not an alpha, little one."

The child's innocent reply was unexpected. "Then I don't want to be an alpha. I want to be like you." He held up his hand. Curtis smiled, promising the child that with hard work and good food, anything was possible.

An elderly woman approached, accompanied by a young girl. "Did you save my grandchild?" she asked, her voice trembling. Curtis recognized her; she was one of the teenage omegas rescued from the bandits.

The boy ran to his sister. The old woman offered Curtis three apples, wrapped in a clean cloth. "This is all we have. Thank you for saving my granddaughter."

Curtis accepted one, offering the others back. The woman hesitated, then accepted. Curtis wiped the apple on his tunic and took a bite. "You need these more than I do."

That night, around the bonfire, someone commented on the fragrant cream on Curtis's hands. "Hand cream," he replied proudly. His men, intrigued, learned it was his partner's creation, designed to soften and protect their calloused hands. They were amazed to learn his partner also made the medicines he'd shared with them.

Suddenly, a frantic cry pierced the night. "Curtis! Curtis! Someone's bullying my sister!" The same boy from earlier rushed towards him.

"Curtis! Where are you going?!" his men shouted, but Curtis was already running, the boy clutched in his arms.

They found a teenage omega cowering, surrounded by Faolan and his men. The old woman was screaming, desperately trying to protect her granddaughter.

Curtis didn't hesitate, kicking Faolan hard enough to send him sprawling.

Faolan, enraged, rose to his feet. "What are you doing, interfering?" he snarled. "We were just having a little fun. The area is secluded, and there's an omega..."

Curtis's response was cold. "I should be asking you that. What are you doing in front of an omega's house?"

Faolan's smirk turned ugly. "We saved them; they owe us gratitude."

Curtis put the boy down and hugged the girl. "Faolan," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "you have so much free time you're looking for entertainment? How about I provide you with some?"

Faolan, furious, challenged him. Curtis's men arrived, witnessing the terrified omega and the blatant intimidation.

One of them exploded, "You bastard! What did you do to that omega?!"

Faolan, unrepentant, threatened, "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave, and you'll give me that omega." He released a wave of pheromones, attempting to overpower them.

The boy shielded his sister. He saw Curtis take a step back, a subtle shift in his stance.

"Stay back," Curtis commanded, and his men obeyed, creating a space around him. "Ryull, Skoll, protect the children." He began to shed his cloak. The two massive wolves erupted from the rooftop, placing themselves between the children and the old woman.

Faolan roared his challenge, but Curtis remained unmoved, ignoring Faolan's attempts to manipulate the situation.

A whisper went through Curtis's men. "It seems Curtis is finally done playing nice with the alpha."

Faolan transformed into a massive gray wolf, a terrifying display of power. One of Curtis's men asked, "Have you ever seen Curtis's wolf form?"

Another replied, "Once, two years ago, when there were only three of us left."

The men's eyes widened in fear as they realized the sheer scale of the battle Curtis had faced. They were afraid; they were terrified of what Curtis might do to Faolan.

Then Curtis transformed. A large black wolf, his size seemingly normal for a beta, yet radiating an aura of terrifying power, a presence that chilled them to the bone. The silence that emanated from him was far more frightening than any growl.