Wolf Pack - 4. Birth of a Wolf

Sandor’s back arched as pain shot through his body. He lay in the moonlight, hidden in a narrow alley in the city. The noise of a city laying down to sleep surrounded him and the elf bit his lip, trying to avoid adding a scream to the night sounds.

Another burst of pain accompanied the sound of crackling bones, and Sandor couldn’t hold back. He stuffed his mouth into the crook of his arm and screamed.

Collapsing, the elf writhed in pain, clawing at his skin. The agony stopped a minute later and Sandor whimpered, his body tense.

A door slammed somewhere and the elf winced. He tried to stand, but couldn’t find his balance, and ended on his hands again.

His paws.

Whining, Sandor backed up, trying to get away from the paws. But he couldn’t escape himself.

Paelius had turned him. He needed to find his prince. Paelius would know what to do.

Sprinting out of the alley, Sandor turned sharply and slipped, sliding through the dirt until he hit a wall. Standing, the werewolf shook himself off and started running again.

A human turned onto the street and froze at the sight of a grey wolf barreling toward him. He leapt aside as Sandor blew past him and yelled at the wolf.

A rock sailed into Sandor’s shoulder and the wolf yelped, falling again. He heard the human running toward him, a sharp scent in the air.

The werewolf’s tail slipped between his legs, and Sandor ran, hunched over to make himself a smaller target. He ducked through several alleys and side roads, trying to lose his pursuer.

The wolf came out of an alley, spying the gate to the city closing for the night. He put on a burst of speed, ignoring the outraged cries of several guards as he sailed through the gates.

He didn’t slow for several minutes, racing west down the main road, before his mind caught up to him.

Slowing, Sandor took a moment to check himself.

He was a werewolf. If anyone in Astara had seen him shift, he would be hunted down. Staying on the road was a death sentence.

Sandor veered off the road, leaping through the tall grass in the direction of Danuva’s house. It would take him several hours, but eventually, he would reach his prince.

Paelius grunted as he woke up, still on the floor. Someone was knocking on the door.

He sat up as Danuva stood. The human slid his pants on, and Paelius silently went into the bedroom, searching for clothes.

He walked out of the room a minute later with a set of tight clothes covering his body. The elf froze at the sight of Riardin standing in the doorway. A man peeked over his shoulder, his eyes glaring into Paelius’.

“Greetings, Prince Paelius,” Riardin smiled.

“Greetings,” Paelius smiled back uncertainly. “I apologise for missing my nuptials. I have been rather busy these past months.”

He saw Danuva raise an eyebrow at the comment, but fortunately, the man stayed silent.

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid the wedding is off,” Riardin smirked.

“I understand. Please extend my apologies to Masia.”

“There is no need for that. My sister wants nothing to do with you. You are… damaged goods,” Riardin leered.

Paelius narrowed his eyes.

“You will retract those words, sir,” he growled.

“They are true. You are a werewolf, are you not?”

Paelius paled as the man behind Riardin chuckled.

“How did you find out?”

“Oh, my dear pup, who do you think made you?”

Riardin glanced at Danuva.

“I hope he hasn’t done anything… unseemly toward you, my good man.”

Danuva shook his head no.

“You made me? You gave me this… this curse?!” Paelius snarled.

“I did,” Riardin nodded. “And now it’s time for you to come home. You’ve had two months to explore the world and enjoy yourself. But now I need you.”

Danuva cleared his throat.

“Um, excuse me sir, but did you just say you knowingly made the prince of the elves a werewolf?” he asked.

Riardin scowled at Danuva.

“I will not have some peasant questioning me,” he spat.

“How?” Paelius interrupted. “How did you turn me into this monstrosity?”

Danuva sighed at Paelius’ words.

“Like any animal makes another of its kind. I bred you,” Riardin grinned. “Now, enough of the questions. You will come with me now.”

Paelius took a step forward, unwillingly. He planted his feet on the ground and glared at Riardin.

“No.”

“You will not challenge me, boy.”

Danuva moved suddenly, and a sword flew at Paelius. The elf caught it by the hilt with barely a glance and held it in a high guard.

“You will leave immediately and be grateful I am letting you go,” he snarled.

The other human stepped between Riardin and the sword, growling menacingly.

Paelius moved stiffly, his wounds still not healed. The blade swung at the man’s head and the man caught the blade in his hand. He howled in pain and released the weapon, shaking his hand. Paelius could see a blister forming on his palm.

Riardin growled.

“Come Greggory. We will deal with him later.”

He turned and left the building, his follower trailing behind.

Paelius set the sword down and sank against the wall. Danuva took the blade and cleaned it off, both of them quiet.

“I’m a werewolf… You made me a werewolf,” Danuva muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Paelius sighed. “I don’t know if there’s a cure. I can help you keep your soul intact if you wish.”

“I’m not concerned about my soul. I just hope it doesn’t hurt,” Danuva said. “Are you okay?”

The air heated around the werewolf and he took a deep breath.

“I need to run…”

Paelius removed his clothes and shifted into his wolf. He raced out the door and was soon lost from sight.

Danuva stood on his porch, sword in hand. He knew he couldn’t use it properly, but the thing had power over the wolves. This house would be kept safe for Paelius.

The man scanned the darkening area around him, searching for the wolf. He hoped Paelius would return, but he knew the elf had some guilt over potentially making him a werewolf. Danuva didn’t hold any grudge. If he was a werewolf now, it wasn’t Paelius’ fault. He had seen the wolf pause, fighting the moon, and after seeing what Quarian used to go through in the full moon, Danuva knew just how strong the elf’s will was.

He allowed the wolf to take him, claim him. He felt bad for it; Danuva suspected that Sandolin and Paelius had some history, but he and Paelius hadn’t had a chance to talk before his home had been invaded by those… those animals.

Danuva heard a snuffle and he looked around, grip tightening on his weapon. A grey wolf walked toward him slowly, and the man raised his sword threateningly.

The wolf paused, body dropping low. It whimpered, baring its neck to the man. A red wolf appeared from the road, and the trio froze.

The red wolf approached slowly, whining as he sniffed the air. He tentatively stuck his nose into the grey wolf’s neck and sniffed.

Danuva’s eyes caught the silver bangle on the red wolf’s ankle and sighed. He couldn’t figure out how to get the silver off him.

There was a quiet crunch as the red wolf shifted, and Paelius took its place, bare to the world.

“Sandor…” he breathed. “Sandor, I’m so sorry.”

Danuva’s eyes widened as the wolf whined. He lowered the blade, letting the tip graze through the dirt as Paelius tried to comfort Sandor.

The man turned his back as Sandor shifted under Paelius’ guidance. He winced at the cries that fell unbidden from the werewolf’s maw. Was this to be his fate too, to be at the moon’s mercy, and suffer pain every month?

“There were guards chasing me, but I think I lost them…” Sandor choked out, huddled in Paelius’ protective grasp.

“Shh, it’s okay. If they come after you, we will deal with them,” Paelius said, ushering the elf to the building.

Danuva raced them inside, dropping the sword in favour of two sets of clothes. He handed one to each of the elves and went to the kitchen to begin preparing the hare he had caught the day before.

“I… I can smell you,” Sandor said, inhaling near his prince. “And I can smell… Lavender?”

He glanced at Danuva who blushed a deep red. The human was unsure why the elf looked at him. Had Sandor smelled him on Paelius? But that was strange. Shouldn’t he have smelled Paelius on him?

Either way, Danuva figured the wolf knew he had slept with Paelius.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, busying himself in the kitchen.

“No... “ Sandor said distractedly. “My Prince can sleep with whoever he desires.”

“You,” Paelius said firmly. “It has always been you. Last night I was not myself.”

Danuva froze. Had the wolf really been in control? Had he raped Paelius by allowing the wolf to take him? Was that even possible?

“I-”

Shit, now he couldn’t even speak.

“I- um… I’m going for a walk,” he said, heading for the door.

The human picked up the sword and carried it out with him, leaving a pair of confused elves behind.