Chapter 4: What a Bloody Mess You've Made

A rustling somewhere nearby jarred the white wolf from her sleep.  She yawned wide, exposing a full jaw of white teeth and let out a little whine of satisfaction that shook her entire head. Rich laughter pulled her from her lingering yawn and she blinked to focus her eyes.  It was Morgan, standing shirtless in front of his armoire tying his trousers.  She let her eyes drift over his beltline at the toned chiseling that teased her even more in the daylight. His body was truly a work of art and she was thankful she could stare without reserve. No one would judge a wolf for studying a human.  His laughter stopped, pulling her eyes up to his face.

“I’d better get you some food.  That intense stare tells me you must be hungry.” 

If he only knew what she was hungry for, just now.

As he pulled his tunic over his head, a cluster of voices chorused in the hallway and traveled past the door.  Morgan knit his eyebrows together and threw a dark green vest over his tunic. He buttoned it as hee opened the door and she managed to squeeze her head between his knee and the door frame to see Philip and a group of servants marching down the hall yelling.

“Wolf!  Wolf, where are you?”

“Philip!” Morgan’s voice bellowed out, startling the she-wolf.  Philip stopped and turned around.  “Are you looking for your pet?” 

She shuttered at the thought and backed into the room behind Morgan’s knee.

“Have you seen her?  Please say you didn’t harm her!”

“Harm her?”  Morgan responded as Philip took brisk steps toward them.  “Hardly.” 

Philip was now nose to nose with Morgan who side stepped to let his little brother see into the room.  Philip’s eyes widened at the sight of the wolf calmly standing in Morgan’s room. 

“You didn’t even change her bandage, brother.  It seems she was locked out of your room last night.”

“That can’t be.  She was waiting for me by the fireplace when…” he trailed off.

“When what?” 

“Never mind.  She’s safe.  Let’s go, you.”  Philip started walking off, but the she-wolf did not follow.

She had no intention of being privy to more meetings between him and Evangeline.  Philip stopped and looked over his shoulder at the wolf who sat firmly down on the stone floor of Morgan’s room.

“It seems she likes me better,” Morgan smirked.

“You don’t even like her!”

“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind. I can’t dislike her when she has such good judgement.” He shrugged. “We made it through the night and neither of us are dead.”

“That’s nothing to laugh at, Morgan.  Come, now, wolf, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I don’t think she wants to, Philip.”  Morgan’s voice was firmer, now, and the wolf could smell the rising scent of testosterone between the two brothers.  Her body tensed in response.

“Well, I don’t think she’s safe with you.” Philip’s gaze narrowed on Morgan.

“I don’t think your opinion matters.” Morgan took a step forward, “She’s ready to go home anyhow. She doesn’t need either of us.”

“She’s not ready!”

“When was the last time you really looked at her?  Look at her eyes.” He stepped aside further and gestured with his hand.  “And she’s walking well.  Her wounds are all closed up.”

“She let you touch her?”

“More than that.  We’ve become friends, her and I.  And she’s ready to go home.”

“No.  I won’t allow it.  She needs more time.”  Philip tried to push his way past Morgan and the wolf stood, but Morgan firmly blocked him.

“You can’t hold onto her forever, Philip.  She’s not a pet.  She’ll become depressed if you don’t let her return to her pack.”  The smell of protectiveness was so strong on Morgan, now it was almost overpowering.  She wanted to drown herself in it and responded by walking closer to his side.  “See.  She agrees with me.”

“She has no idea what you’re saying.”

“I’m sure she can sense it somehow.  She needs to be free.” 

Philip took one last look at her before stomping back down the hallway.

“This isn’t over, Morgan!”

“Isn’t it?”  Morgan asked under his breath.  He turned his gaze on her now, “Let’s go hunting.”  It was only then, she realized he had dressed for a ride outside the castle. 

The thought of an outing with him excited her and the emotion caused conflict and confusion.  What was happening to her?  She couldn’t seriously be desiring a relationship with this human, could she?  She was neither fully human nor fully wolf.  It was impossible!  But still, she wagged her tail a couple times so show the idea of a hunt pleased her. 

He chuckled to himself, “I can’t tell if you understand me or if you just like it when I talk to you.” 

Both, she thought as Morgan knelt at her side.

“Let’s take these bandages off, first, so you don’t get hung up on anything.”

After the bandages were removed, she followed him loyally through the castle and through the large, wooden front door onto the portico.  The fresh air felt amazing blowing through the strands of her fur.  She closed her eyes and lifted her nose to take it all in.  Below the steps, a man had Morgan’s horse ready.  There was only one.  It would be just them two. The large grey beast pawed the ground, creating dust clouds in anticipation.

I know how you feel.

“Today, we will grant you your freedom, little wolf.” Morgan said from her left as he slid his riding gloves over his hands.  He lifted himself onto the large warmblood and guided the horse a few steps toward the courtyard exit.  “You coming, little wolf?” 

She should be annoyed that he kept calling her little.  At 80 pounds, she was by no means small, but she decided to believe he did it out of affection and let the thought warm her heart.  No one had ever treated her with affection as long as her memory went back.  Even prior to her transformation, though those memories were fuzzy. The feelings she got when she tried to think about that time in her life were feelings of anxiety, depression, and anger.  She shook her body and trotted down the steps of the portico to follow Morgan atop his horse. 

The horse had a swift and smooth gate that she easily kept up with and soon they were in the field outside the forest.  Morgan slowed the horse to a walk and pulled his quiver out from one of the large saddle bags at the horse’s flank and strapped it over his chest, then pulled his bow out from another large saddle bag on the horse’s other side.  With his horse moving slowly through the blades of grass, he dropped the reins to control the horse with his legs and held his bow ready to fire at the mere sight of prey. 

The she-wolf stood still, waiting and watching.  She could do this much faster, but wanted to see what kind of a hunter this man was.  With a slight shift back of Morgan’s weight, the horse froze and Morgan lifted his bow with precision and fired an arrow.  The wolf followed it with her eyes to see that the arrow hit its mark in a rabbit about twenty yards away.  He nudged the horse and rode to pick up his kill. 

This is going to take all morning.  I’d better help him or I’m never going to eat.  She stuck her nose into the air. 

While Morgan was clearly a skilled hunter, getting a rabbit so soon in the hunt, his arrow had destroyed part of the edible meat. Her nose and stealth were far superior to the eyes of a human man.  Very soon, she picked up the scent of a buck, a fluffle of rabbits, and a pheasant. 

She ran a wide path around his horse and stopped in front of it.  When Morgan tried to push the horse forward, she lowered her head and narrowed her gaze causing the horse to toss his head and stomp the ground.

“What are you doing, crazy girl?” 

She lifted her head, pricked her ears and pointed into the forest.  “You can go.  You’re better now.  You don’t need us anymore.” 

The thick heads on these humans. 

Ignoring his comment about her leaving him, and though it was humiliating, she adapted a pose he’d recognize. She lifted a paw, straightened her tail, and lowered her head, resembling one of their pointing dogs often brought on hunting trips.  Morgan hollered out in rich belly laughter.

Ugh.

“I get it.  Okay, if you say so.”  He turned his stallion in the direction she had pointed while she let out a sigh of utter humiliation. 

His laughter was worth it, though, she thought. 

She caught up to the stallion and passed him, taking the lead.  She slowed down in front of the horse and began to creep across the forest floor.  The fluffle of rabbits were closest, now, since the buck had run off with Morgan’s laughter.  Then she froze.  Morgan looked around atop his horse, but he didn’t see anything.  The rabbits were just ahead, behind a bush.  She chanced one more step closer and straightened her tail in a point.  He still didn’t see it, so she bounded forward and in four leaps she landed in the middle of the rabbit group, snapping her jaws, and slamming her paws down.  Morgan shot his arrow and caught one that had tried to dash off.  Between them, they bagged three out of the six rabbits that had had been grazing in the small patch of green behind the bush.

“Good girl!  Aren’t you a fine hunting partner!”  He said and smiled down at her. 

She fought the urge to revel in the complement like a simple dog, but the praise seemed to force her tail to wag on its own.  In frustration at the invading emotion, she sneezed and turned before she could act like a stupid puppy, and distracted herself by leading him to the pheasant. 

The pheasant was more difficult to locate since it kept moving around, but soon they arrived at a group of trees where the bird seemed to hover.  She stopped walking and crouched to indicate that something was there.  This one was up to him since the bird was in a tree.  Morgan took the hint and looked around, quietly, listening.  Feathers ruffled from above and she watched as he slowly raised his bow and his eyes to the trees above.  There sitting on a branch in the tree ahead was a plump and healthy pheasant.  He pulled the bowstring and the arrow shot straight and true.  The pheasant spread its wings to flee, but it was too late.  The arrow struck in the bird’s chest and it fell to the forest floor.  The she-wolf launched forward at the bird.

“Hey!”  Morgan shouted as she picked up the prey in her sharp, drooly jaws. 

With her mouth full of the heavy bird, she turned toward him, confused.  Isn’t this what their dogs did?  Not that she wanted to be a pet, but she was hungry and this was taking a long time.  She tilted her head at him, searching for an answer. 

“I’m bringing that back to the castle with me.” He stated rather accusingly, “If you want any of it, you’ll let me cook it first.”

Oh, human!  If I was going to eat it, I’d be gone already. 

She sighed at his ignorance and trotted over to him.  With a strong push off the ground, she lifted her front paws onto the side of his horse.  Her weight against the animal caused it to sidestep uncertainly.  Stretching her neck out, she gently handed him the undamaged bird.  Morgan furrowed his brow at the gesture, but took the bird from her mouth.  Upon careful inspection, he let out a harumph, and tied the catch to the back of his horse. 

The buck had moved deep into the forest, so along the way they hunted other small game like rabbits and game birds.  Morgan continued to offer her praise which made her feel like a silly pet, but she couldn’t help enjoy it.  The smile on his face and rich laughter each time she brought him the kill made want to continue.  She never saw him this happy around Evangeline and the satisfaction that she could make him smile like this, not even being human, gave her a sense of triumph.  The wolf side of her even began to crave the wild of the forest less and less as the morning went on and instead began craving Morgan’s companionship.  The desire unnerved her because the thought was ridiculous.  She could never be with him the way she wanted to.  But the sense of belonging she felt around him was overpowering and the idea in her mind made her body burn with possession for him. 

In a heavily wooded part of the forest, the scent of the buck grew stronger. They continued forward until she could tell it was roughly fifty paces ahead.  She stilled and could hear it rubbing its antlers on a tree.  With Morgan on his steed, the animal could not realize the danger it was in.  Morgan, up on top of his horse, could see the buck clearly, though his shot wasn’t so clear.  This would reveal how good of an archer he really was.  Though curious of his ability, she had a confidence in him that may have been falsely placed.  This moment would be telling. 

He raised his bow and she marveled at his intensity, his steady breathing, and steadiness of form.  When he released the arrow, it flew straight through the narrow trees trying to block the path and landed directly in the side of the buck, and the animal fell.  Morgan smiled to himself and then looked down at her, almost willing her to congratulate him on a job well done.  If she could speak, she would have done just that. 

Inside, she was beaming with pride for this man, though it was unjustified because he didn’t belong to her and she didn’t belong to him.  He moved his horse over to the buck to hoist the heavy beast onto the back of his horse.  She watched as he inspected the animal and prepared it to be lifted and anchored for travel.  They would need to walk back to the castle now, since there would be no riding room on the steed. 

While she watched from afar, an odd smell reached her nostrils – one she didn’t recognize.  She parted her mouth and inhaled in short quick breaths, chattering her teeth, trying to get a better reading on what was approaching.  It was wolves, but not a pack she knew.  This was a new family in the area.  Her skin prickled and her fur stood up on her back as the wolves got closer.  She was thankful Morgan was at a safe enough distance to not be in the way when they approached.  She was a fool to have led him into the forest at the start of her heat.  She should have known she would attract unwanted attention.

The padding of paws and crunching of leaves grew closer.  Her hackles were fully raised when the first wolf appeared between two bushes.  He was a large male with shiny black fur and golden eyes with just a fleck of green around his pupil.  The rest of his family appeared in the bushes behind him and slowly surrounded her.  She didn’t dare look in Morgan’s direction for fear of drawing attention his way.  She lowered her head and wrinkled her nose in a silent warning.  The dark male ignored her threat and kept his head high as he sauntered closer at an arch to her shoulder attempting to be non-threatening.  As he did, he swooshed his tail to the left in a flirtatious lose gesture. 

No thank you. She thought and carefully steered her hind end away from him so that her head was facing him and tucked her tail down, tightly, but not between her legs.  She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea that she was submissive. She may be without a pack, but she was not available.

She chanced sniffing the air again.  His scent was strong, but was not on any of the other females.  This pack had no mother and it seemed this male thought to fill that position with her.  The male put his ears back and puffed his chest out at her, raising his tail in a flagging display of superiority and want. He pranced closer to her, his paws taking short steps in a mating dance.  She stood her ground, body ridged while he placed a testing paw on her shoulder.  She leapt backward, trying to defuse his interest without starting a fight. 

The alpha whined in frustration and bounded toward her rear.  She spun again, tucking her bottom under her, and faced him again, this time showing teeth. 

The alpha was not put off.  He ran at her, wrapping her between his front paws and successfully maneuvering his pelvis around to her back end.  She tried to tuck her tail, but he began to gyrate and she could feel the cold flesh of the alpha making contact with her skin as he worked his way closer. 

She let out a desperate howl and tried to bend her body to grab his fur with her teeth, but it was no use.  He had a tight hold on her.  In one last attempt, when she could feel the bulk of him start to penetrate, she flopped to the ground and rolled over, snarling and gnashing her teeth at him.  The alpha growled at her in frustration and snapped at her as her back hit the ground. She snapped back, not willing to give in to his desperate demands. She grabbed his neck fur and quickly shook it and released it.

He finally backed away, but this rejection meant punishment.  If she would not be one of his, she would not be, because she would not be allowed to start a rival pack elsewhere.  As he moved back, the other wolves moved in, ready to eliminate the one who rejected their father.  She quickly rolled to her feet, ready to defend herself. 

The first wolf, young and sprite, lunged at her and grabbed her neck rough, followed by four more.  There was no way she would be able to fend them all off.  Pain seared through her neck, then her back leg.  Another grabbed her shoulder and she could feel the flesh ripping beneath their teeth.  She yelped and howled in pain. 

A thundering from somewhere vibrated the earth beneath her and the wolf pack scattered.  A strong force gripped her neck ruff and lifted her into the air with ferocity.  She turned to bite it when she realized it was Morgan.  He dropped her on the back of his horse and kicked his steed hard to gallop away from the wolf pack and toward the tree line.  The vengeful pack did not give up, and ran after them.

When the shock of being lifted into the air left her and her mind was certain she was safe, she realized the buck they had killed was not on the horse and the scent of it was fading.  He must have left it behind to save her.  Her heart sank at the loss it was, but she was grateful he cared enough about her to rescue her from the angry jaws of the young wolf pack.  They ran past the tree line and through the courtyard gates. 

Behind them, the wolf pack stopped and watched their traitor escape to safety.

~~~

Morgan made quick work in the library of stitching her and wrapping her, yet again. 

“I’m sorry, little wolf.” He tied the last binding and then took the pheasant and rabbits to the kitchen.

The roasted pheasant and rabbit stew were brought to the library, and a large platter of meat was set on the ground in front of her.  Like a fool, her mouth drooled as she struggled to stand up to eat it and she heard Morgan laugh at her plight.  If wolves could blush, she would have.

“Since you’re staying,” Morgan leaning up against the back of a sofa with a small bowl of stew in his hands, “we should give you a name.  I can’t keep calling you little wolf.” 

But I like little wolf.

“How about Beatrice?”

The wolf allowed herself to violently sneeze at the name causing a wide grin to spread across Morgan’s face in amusement. 

“Alright, then!  Not Beatrice.  Let’s see…”  He paused in thought, “how about Chloe?” 

The wolf wrinkled her nose. 

“Not Chloe either.  Allie?” 

She growled in her throat. 

Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Not Allie.” He walked over to the buffet table and set his bowl down, then rubbed his chin in thought.  “You’re not liking anything I come up with.” A long moment passed, “I’ve got one more, so if you don’t like it, you’ll have to remain nameless.  Aria?”

Aria, this one I can live with.  She wagged her tail with a rhythmic thumping on the floor.

“Yes, Aria it is!”  He smiled in triumph.

A name.  I have a name. 

Morgan frowned and rubbed his temple.  “I must have been in the sun too long.”

Aria tilted her head in concern.  She hoped their outing hadn’t hurt him.

The bang of the library doors flying open startled her. Both she and Morgan’s heads snapped to the entry.

“What is that still doing here?” Shouted King Aaron.

“That?” Morgan frowned.

“That…that…thing!”  Aaron pointed angerly at Aria who lay next to her empty plate.

“Her name is Aria.” Morgan answered emphatically.

“Not you, too. Morgan, was it not that long ago you were calling it an it?”

“Yes, well, my opinion of this beautiful creature may have changed in the past week.”

“It’s a wolf, Morgan, not a dog!”

“For a wolf, then, she makes a rather desirable hunting companion.  Just this morning she tracked and retrieved a large amount of game.”  With his hand he gestured to the wide spread at the buffet table.

“You took it hunting?”  The king’s expression held a horrified gaze.

“I did take her hunting, though my intention was that she’d run off… she didn’t.  Instead, she stayed by my side and worked with me better than any dog we have.”

“What is this wolf doing to you boys?”

“Proving her worth.”  He walked toward her a bit, offering an affectionately soft smile before turning back to his father. “I was anchoring a buck to my horse when we were ambushed by a wolf pack.  I originally thought it was her pack, but they attacked her.  One of the males was trying to mount her.” 

The king’s eyes widened and his body went still.

“I’ll not have every wolf pack surrounding my castle every time this monster goes into season.”  The king stated flatly.

“They only chased us to the tree line.”

“So what?  We don’t hunt when she’s seeking a mate?” 

“She wasn’t seeking!  She wanted nothing to do with him.”

At that moment, at pattering of paws rounded the corner of the open library doors and in trotted two very large, gray wolfhounds.  The larger of the two was a male and his nose rose to the air, sniffing intently. 

Not again.

The smaller of the two was a female.  As soon as her eyes locked onto Aria laying contently on the ground, the dog’s head lowered, her body stilled and she let out a low growl.  The male responded to his companion’s dislike for Aria and he walked toward her in a direct line with a raised head.  That was all it took.  The female behind him lurched forward in a sprint across the room.  She closed the space between them so quickly, it was barely a second before her jaws were latched onto Aria’s scruff and shaking for a quick kill.  The male was not far behind.  As Aria howled in frustration and pain, the male went for her back legs and grabbed a thigh. His teeth sank deep into her muscle and Aria screeched.

“Aria!” Morgan lunged across the room but Aaron grabbed his son’s arms. 

Aria’s jaws snapped in the air, reaching for one of the female’s front legs.

“Stay out of it, son.”

“They’ll kill her!”

“Better her than one of my dogs!” The king rebuked. 

“Aria!  Fight back!  You must fight back!”  Yelled Morgan from the constraint of Aaron’s arms.  He cared.  He cared for her. 

Determination surged through her and her eyes burned with green and rage.  Pain seared her shoulders as the wolfhound ripped through her bandages to an already raw wound, but it only made her angrier.  This man whom she was learning to care for wanted her to fight back against the king’s wishes.  Her eyes flashed, and she shoved off the ground in a single push.  Her muscles still ached from her confrontation with the wolf pack, but she wasn’t about to lose now.  She ripped her back leg from the jaws of the male and lunged forward into the female, pushing her off balance.  It was all she needed to find an opening.  She turned her head and with a strong bite, she crushed the shoulder of the wolfhound with a satisfying crunch of bone.  The dog cried out with a shrill scream that freed Aria’s scruff. 

The male, now angry, snapped and clawed at Aria’s rear end, but she would not be deterred.  The female was now limping, but still wanted to fight.  Aria leapt forward at her, grabbed her neck, and shoved the dog to the ground with another satisfying crunch.  It was finished.  She was dead. 

With dripping fangs, Aria turned on the male with a vehement snarl.  She lunged at him next, but he refused to fall.  She snapped at the flesh on his shoulder.  His movements were slower than hers or his females and she managed to grab the scruff on his neck.  He wasn’t as limber and tried but failed to grab her flesh.  Yelping and whirling, he spun, finally tripping and falling to the ground.  She moved her grip to his throat, but a holler stopped her from crushing it.

“No!”  It was the king.  She froze and so did the wolfhound. 

She loosened her grip but he stayed down. He had given up.  Aria slowly un-sank her teeth the male’s shoulder while listening to the hysteria behind her from the furious king.  Then she watched as the male scrambled to his feet and ran back out the library door.

“I told you!  She’s a monster!  A villain!  A beastly creation!”  He shoved his son away and pulled his sword from its sheath and, red-faced, stalked toward Aria. 

Well he’s right about that.

Morgan’s eyes darted to hers and he quickly stepped in front of his father. Aria turned to face Morgan’s back and looked past him at the beet faced king. 

“Move, son.”

“I will not.”

“Move!  She must die before she slaughters every animal in this castle.  Since you and Philip have shown her such hospitality, even if she does leave, she’ll come back and make this her private hunting ground.” 

“She was resting by the wall until your dogs came in and attacked her.  Did you not notice that she left one alive?  Had I helped her, they might both be alive. ”

“I’ll not have her murdering in my home!”

“It was self-defense.”  Morgan said flatly.

“Out with you both!”  Flustered, the king turned on them and sheathed his sword.  Slowly, he walked to his dead wolfhound and stood over her body.

What have I done?  She thought as she watched the king mourn what may have been his prized female. I shouldn’t stay here.

Morgan furrowed his brow again and looked down at her as they walked toward the library doors.  Clearly confused, but Aria was lost as to why.  Was he disappointed in her? 

I pray I have not lost you, Morgan.  Her heart ached for the joy they had before the king entered the library.