Rejecting The Pack: I Need One Mate

The night wind swept through the central square of the Silverwood Pack settlement, kicking up sparks from the bonfire. They hissed and died in the dark. Morwenna cleared her throat, the dry sound cutting through the crackle of the flames.

The cubs stopped their roughhousing instantly. They scrambled to sit at the feet of the blind elder's rocking chair, their eyes wide and eager.

Kala sat on the outermost log, away from the heat. She kept her head down, her fingers working automatically to strip the root from a pearl-grass plant. The sticky sap clung to her fingertips, smelling faintly of mint and clean soil.

Morwenna began her story, her voice raspy and low. It was the old tale, the one about the Beast Goddess who descended to the ancient world and took twelve mighty beast partners.

When the elder mentioned the giant beasts the Goddess commanded, the male cubs gasped. Their chests puffed out, imaginations already running wild with battles and glory.

Tabitha, a female cub with braided hair, puffed out her own chest. "When I grow up, I'm going to have the strongest warriors," she declared loudly. "They'll fight over me."

She turned to look at Zev, who sat beside her. Her eyes held a clear, possessive gleam. It was a look that said Zev belonged on that list.

Zev's face twisted in disgust. He shuffled away from her, putting a solid foot of space between them. "You're too prissy," he shot back. "You can't even skin a rabbit. You don't deserve a strong Alpha."

Tabitha's face flushed red. Her small hands grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, her knuckles turning white. "Take that back!"

Zev jumped to his feet. He wasn't done. He needed a weapon to crush her pride completely. His finger shot out, pointing straight at the edge of the circle.

At Kala.

"When I mate," Zev announced to the entire square, "I'm going to find someone like Kala! She's gentle, and she's the best Mender in the pack!"

Every head turned. The conversation died. All eyes landed on Kala.

Snap.

The pearl-grass root in Kala's hand broke in half. The sharp sound seemed too loud in the sudden silence. She slowly raised her head, a flicker of cold annoyance flashing deep within her eyes, hidden beneath half-lowered lids. The weight of the stares pressed against her skin like a physical force.

Tabitha's lip trembled. Tears welled up, spilling over her lashes in a flash. "You're a jerk!" she screamed at Zev.

She spun around and shoved her way through the crowd of cubs. Her bare feet pounded against the dirt path as she ran toward the dark edge of the forest.

The square erupted into chaos. Cubs whispered and pointed. Morwenna slammed her cane against the ground, the thud vibrating through the dirt.

Kala stood up immediately. She brushed the green bits of leaf from her skirt. She had to go after the girl. The forest edge was too dark, and the night predators were already waking.

But she paused. If she ran into the dark alone, her family would panic. Armond would tear the camp apart looking for her. She couldn't cause that kind of trouble.

Her eyes scanned the crowd and locked onto a chubby cub who was currently trying to shove three handfuls of berries into her mouth at once.

Pippa.

Kala walked over, her footsteps quiet on the packed earth. "Pippa," she called softly.

Pippa froze. Her cheeks bulged. She slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with the terror of being caught stealing snacks.

Kala reached out and gently ruffled the cub's messy hair. She slipped her hand into her small medicine pouch, pulling out a sugar-coated preserved plum and pressing it into the cub's palm. "Eat this now, and I'll make you an entire bowl of your favorite egg pudding tomorrow," Kala promised, her voice warm and low.

Pippa's eyes lit up like twin moons. She nodded so hard her whole body jiggled.

Kala pointed a finger toward the forest edge, where Tabitha's white dress had already vanished into the shadows. "Go bring her back. Make sure she gets to her cabin safely."

For egg pudding, Pippa became a cannonball. She shot off the ground and sprinted toward the trees, her little legs pumping furiously.

Kala watched the cub disappear into the gloom. A breath she didn't know she was holding escaped her lungs. She turned back to her log, ready to sit down and fade back into the background.

"Kala."

The voice was dry, heavy, and absolute. It carried the weight of stone.

Kala stopped. She looked toward the rocking chair.

As Kala shifted her weight, her heel snapped a dry twig on the ground. The faint crackle was barely audible, but Morwenna's head snapped toward the sound instantly.

Morwenna's clouded, blind eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, locking onto Kala's exact position. The white film over the elder's eyes seemed to glow faintly in the firelight. The old woman's chin was raised, her posture rigid.

It was a command. Kala was not going to sit down.