Once Upon A Time (21 page)

My little
human was a sable wolf, her fur matching her silky human hair, and
the perfect match for my own dark wolf. I had often wondered over
the years why my colouring had darkened gradually, and this was the
answer. As a pair, we were matched. Our wolves were a visible
confirmation of our souls being together as Mates.

As the Pack
piled out of the Hall, individuals gazing up at the Moon in silent
thanks, before shifting to our wolf forms, I had taken Merida's
hand and run with her in human form, out into the lawn. Taking her
in my arms, I had exchanged a soft kiss. A kiss of promise. And I
had stepped back.

"Now, my
little human. Change with me, and run with me. Let me show you my
world."

Chasing after
my Mate, my wolf grin is wide at the feel of the ground beneath my
paws, and the scent of my Mate in my nose. As her form wove through
trees, her wolf giving her human mind the information it needed to
run, to enjoy, I could feel her pleasure in her new form and in the
fact that she did not have to make this change to protect
herself.

I let her run
ahead of me and enjoy the freedom, knowing that with my larger
size, I could end the chase when necessary, or if my Mate showed
signs of being tired. But she slowed of her own accord, wanting the
same closeness that we enjoyed in human form.

Nuzzling her
neck ruff, I gave her long gentle lick around her chin and jaw.

"Better?" I
asked her via our mind link. "I told you it would be good."

I nuzzle him
when he licked my jaw. "It’s beyond better. It's so relaxing." I
sit on my hind legs, and look around, paying close attention to the
sounds around us. Slowly I move to him, licking his jaw, running my
nose against his fur. His scent was all I needed to be more at
ease.

I jump on him,
nibbling on his ear. I felt playful, for once I wanted to forget
what had happened to that man, no matter how on the right I was, I
still had that image, but it was what reminded me how strong I am.
"Do you do this only on full moons?" I asked while placing my paws
on him. I tried to toss him on the ground, though it was slightly
hard, since he is bigger than me.

Allowing my
Mate to roll me over, we played in the snow. Playing can never be
underestimated. Through our mind link, I explained this to her.
"The Full Moon calls us, but unlike the horror movie werewolf, we
do not have to change. As far as our Pack is concerned, the Full
Moon is a time to reconnect with Pack members, and yes, to play, to
just enjoy life."

I stood,
shaking snow from my coat, giving a chuffing 'wolf laugh' as Merida
danced backwards.

"We are soul
harvesters, my little human. It is not the least stressful
'profession' in the world, and we need to play. This is our time to
play."

Nipping at her
heels, I chuffed a laugh again. "So run, little human, my sweet
Mate, and let's see if I can catch you."

I laughed and
nudged him before I sprinted off running, I liked his laugh, and I
will keep it buried in my mind. It wasn’t often you heard him
laugh, maybe due to his position. Yet it was satisfying know that
it was I who could make him laugh at times.

Always looking
behind me, to see where he was, how far he was. I know he would be
giving me advantage. But still it was fun.

My little
human was so busy looking behind her, that she forgot that I might
not be behind her anymore. So, my breath left me in a 'woof' as she
barrelled into me, and we both went tumbling in the snow, but I
don't think I had had so much pleasure in a Full Moon run in a long
time.

"Lesson #1, my
lovely little human. Our world is a lot more complex than you might
think. Learn to use all your senses, and not just your eyes." I
gave her another nuzzle around her ruff to take the sting from my
words.

"Now, do you
want to continue playing, or do you want to go back to the
Hall?"

He wasn't
behind me, and that's when I crashed on to him. We both fell and I
shook the snow off. His words made me be embarrassed a bit. But he
was right, I had to start using them all.

"I want to go
back and have you for myself." I smiled and nuzzled him, before
moving back with him and changing back if he did as well.

The Moon is
full and she calls to all present except the humans. I am glad when
they finally take them to their rooms for the night. I ask my
sister if she is alright and how she is feeling. I still cannot
believe I am going to be an uncle within a few weeks.

Everyone walks
outside shifting as soon as the air hits them. I waste no time and
shift to my large grey wolf. I see all others and I am small
compared to the two betas and I don’t even hold a candle to the
huge black wolf that is Gavril Negrescu, His mate nuzzles his neck
and he licks her in return. I have been on full moon runs with my
pack and I can tell you it is nothing like what this pack does. The
frolic and play in the snow like they are a bunch of pups the mated
ones teasing and chasing each other.

I stand there
in my wolf form watching them. The last time I was on a run it was
to hunt and train. There were pack fights that those who were
weaker were destroyed. I have been in many of these damn pack
fights and had to learn to fight to the death making sure it wasn’t
my death that came. I am watching wondering when these fights were
start. I am shocked to learn that all this pack did was as a pack
and they were a strong pack even those who my father would of
claimed too weak to be in our pack were included.

Sitting down
on my haunches when I see the healer watching everyone before she
takes off and runs through the night herself. Yipping as she jumps
over fallen logs, I give up watching and let myself go as it seems
this is what is expected. I am finally free to enjoy the run. The
cold wind in my fur is exhilarating and exciting. I head away from
the others as I do not want to intrude. Running up a hill I can see
the others below and if I look across I can see Angharad chasing
the moon I chuckle wanting her to catch it. I am feeling a little
comfortable with this pack but alas I know I will have to go back
to my own.

I am not
looking forward to the beating I am going to get but I know I will
survive, for I am a lot stronger than any others give me credit
for. I am sure I will have to beat my brothers off of me as well as
the old man. I cannot help but wish my father was more like this
Gavril who genuinely cares for each and every member of his
pack.

I laughed to
myself. As the saying goes, if wishes were fishes … My sire won’t
change, not when he holds the Pack in an iron fist, with instant
obedience from the majority of the Pack. Not out of loyalty, but
out of fear. I shook my head. I was but one wolf, and I was the
youngest of my siblings. What hope did I have for changing the
status quo? As I looked up at the moon, I wished it were otherwise,
but it wasn’t. Maybe one day …

I was born
sometime in what the humans would refer to as the sixteenth
century, the male whelp of the Alpha and Beta pair of a Cŵn Annwn
Pack. As servants of the Goddess, whom we knew as Mallt-y-Nos, we
had a sacred duty: we were the harvesters of evil souls. Spectral
hounds, they call us in this modern age, which, at least,
differentiates us from all the other creatures of legend. But, when
I was born, all creatures similar to us were considered to be the
same. We were spawn of the Devil, a Christian Devil, and nothing to
do with our pagan Goddess, who had existed long before a young man
walked the soils of the Middle East. But, that was how humans would
view us, because this was an age of superstition, and an age when
those less educated would follow those whom they trusted without
question, without wondering whether they were being led astray.

Even then, we
had realised that, in order to fit in with the humans around us, we
had to resemble them. Therein lay the problem. Wales, the land of
our birth, was under an English yoke, and it was a slow process
that we might be seen as a people in our own right. Over time,
there would be attempts to eradicate our way of life, our native
language, but at the time of my birth, that was one small thing
still open to us. Admittedly, the situation started to change when
a Welshman killed the Plantagenet usurper, and took the English
throne, but to benefit, one had to be of use to the new King. So,
that was what we became. If he was nothing else, Henry Tudor was a
canny and politically aware monarch. More importantly, he knew that
he could not just use as his personal squad of assassins, since
that would only result in us turning on him. What it also meant was
that a Welsh group, living in the mountains of North Wales were
often seen at the side of the King of England, and yet, not seen.
It also meant that we became more secure in where and how we were
able to live. When our Alpha and Beta produced a male whelp, whom
they named Gabriel, it seemed that our Pack would be able to
relax.

Our world
changed when the Scottish King, James VI, took the throne. The
paranoia that he felt, of things not of this world, meant that it
was not in our interests to let him know what his predecessors had
done. Had we told him of our abilities, I have no doubt to this day
that he would have seen us hunted down as devil spawn.

That may not
have happened, not to us as a Pack, but what did happen was that a
cursed human, at least as far as I am concerned, arrived in our
area. A witch-finder, he called himself. A murdering, misogynistic
bastard, I would call him. Considering that we were not as
influential at court as we had been, he was still surprised to find
that the local, major landowners were native Welshmen. It just
showed his ignorance, in that it did not occur to him that our
connections were based on a shared homeland with the grandfather of
the present king.

My sire was
slain as a result of this human witch finder. He frightened the
local peasants, making them believe and fear for their souls should
they not ‘do their duty’ and hunt down the witches and the spawn of
the Devil. For my sire, it meant danger. He was a black wolf, in
the form that he permitted humans to see. Naturally they would not
see his form as a Cŵn Annwn until it was too late. Even though I
was but a juvenile myself at the time, I can still remember what
happened. He had taken me out for a run. It was one of the few
times that his duties at Beta had permitted him to spend time with
his cub. I had been so excited, so determined to prove to my sire
that I was worthy of my lineage. This was before a time when I
realised that we came might be seen to have come from Hell, that we
might be seen as ‘bad’. At the time, I was a juvenile, with a sire
and a dam, both of whom showed as much affection to their pup as
was possible, whilst at the same time enforcing discipline. In my
human form I was the only son of the local land-owner, and lived in
one of the wealthiest homes in the area. All my sire had planned
was to take me for a run in the mountains. Generally, we avoided
the humans, because they were a crude, suspicious species. They
would be more likely to kill that which they didn’t understand,
rather than to seek to understand us. And, if those humans in
robes, the priests, told them that a black wolf was a sign of their
Devil, then they would feel duty-bound, for the sake of their
immortal souls, to slaughter that spawn of Satan. To those humans,
that black wolf was just an animal, and one whose pelt would look
good on a wall, or better yet, be made into warm clothing to last
the winter and beyond. They did not see the sire of a cub. They did
not see the Mate of a Alpha she-wolf, who needed him to maintain
her sanity. They did not see the Beta of the Pack. They saw a spawn
of Satan and for that interpretation, he had to die.

That day, I
lost my sire.

That day, my
dam lost her mate, and although I did not realise it at the time,
she lost her source of light and balance.

That day, our
Pack lost its male Beta, and I wonder now whether that was the day
when the spiral of self-destruction set it, which ultimately would
lead to my becoming Alpha of the Cŵn Annwn pack.

For me,
personally, that day, I lost not just my sire, but my innocence. I
realised that we lived in an alien world for us. We lived in a
world where we were feared, and because of that fear, we were
hunted. If those pond-scum humans could have done so, they would
have eradicated us as a species, and not just us. They would have
slaughtered anything that resembled us: wild dogs, wolves, and
other species of canine. It would not matter to them. They would
not see the destruction of a mated pair. They would not see pups
left without a sire, a dam or, in some cases, both sire and dam.
They would not see that they were committing genocide in their
drive to kill the ‘spawn of Satan’ that they saw ‘hiding’ in the
woods and mountains. I suppose I should be glad that the meat from
our species is not as palatable to humans as some others, so we
were not slaughtered for our meat.

The thing is
that none of that mattered on the day I lost my sire.

My sire, the
male Beta of the Cŵn Annwn Pack, used his strength as a Beta to
keep me concealed for the baying humans who hunted him. This meant
that he was fighting them with on part of the strength that he
could have used, because he felt that it was better that I
survived. He was my sire, I howled to myself. He was my role model,
not just because we shared the same dark colouring. He did not
deserve to be hacked to pieces by a group of baying, pond-scum,
superstitious and illiterate peasants. He had been part of the
balance that kept our Pack healthy, by supporting our sometimes
erratic Alpha. But that day he was murdered.