Mated To My Biggest Enemy

Riley's POV

"You are holding back again." Like a blade, Dad's voice sliced through the morning air. "A real Alpha does not be kind to her foes."

After wiping the perspiration from my face, I turned to face the training dummy that I had just destroyed. There were wood chips all over the floor, but I could tell by Dad's frown that it was not enough. It was never sufficient.

I flexed my aching fingers and said, "I was not holding back." "I hit it as hard as I could."

"Then you are not strong enough." With eyes as cold as winter ice, Dad took a step closer. "You are a woman, so the Red Canyon wolves will not be kind to you."

The thought of our adversaries roused my inner wolf. She desired blood and to demonstrate our ability to destroy any Steele who ventured to approach us. I allowed that rage to drive me to strike again.

The dummy burst into splinters this time. One nod from Dad was as near to commendation as I ever received from him. I did not care that my knuckles were bleeding.

"Better," he said. But keep in mind, Riley. You will only have one job once you are Alpha.

I concluded the lesson I had heard a thousand times: "Protect the pack."

"No." His tone became gravely serious. "Destroy our adversaries before they destroy us."

From the valley below us came a howl. It floated up from Red Canyon territory like a challenge, long and melancholy. My own howl tore from my throat as my wolf responded before I could stop her.

That morning, Dad smiled for the first time. "All right. Inform them of our presence.

The first howl came from the valley, followed by others. The Red Canyon Pack was getting up and beginning their own morning rituals. I pondered whether their Alpha of the future was also training, learning to despise us as much as we detested them.

Even though I knew the story by heart, I said, "Tell me again why we fight them."

Dad's expression hardened. "Because they are dishonest and thieves. Your great-great-grandfather was killed when he attempted to stop them from stealing our hunting grounds a century ago.

"And ever since, we have been at war."

"And until the last Steele is dead, we will be." Dad grabbed a fresh training dummy and placed it. "Again."

I threw everything I had at the dummy. Every blow was dedicated to all the Blackwoods who had perished. Every kick served as retribution for all the slights our family had endured. We had lost so much to the Red Canyon Pack.

The dummy was just sawdust when I was done. In fact, Dad looked proud, which filled my heart with joy. The few times I made him proud were the ones I lived for.

He stated, "Your Alpha trials are in two weeks." "Your strength, wisdom, and loyalty will be put to the test by the pack elders."

"I promise not to let you down."

"You would better not. The pack is depending on you to guide them to triumph. Dad's gaze drifted off into the valley. "Recently, the Steeles have been too silent. They have a plan.

The threat roused my wolf. "What kind of something?"

"I am not sure yet. However, you must be prepared when they move. Dad looked back at me. "A dead pack is a weak Alpha."

Our mountain training ground was covered in long shadows as the morning sun rose higher. Below us, I could make out our territory, which was made up of granite cliffs and silver pines that had been Blackwood land for many generations. It was wild and lovely, and it was mine to keep safe.

Another howl, distinct from the others, floated up from Red Canyon. Perhaps younger or more depressed. I felt a strange tightness in my chest.

Dad's head jerked in the direction of the noise. He scented the air, his nostrils flaring. "That is new."

"What do you mean?"

"That howl is unfamiliar to me. There may be a new wolf in the Steeles' pack. Dad's face became menacing. "We must ascertain who."

My wolf reacted without my consent when the odd howl resurfaced. She wanted to howl back and resisted my control. I bit my lip to remain silent, but Dad was already giving me a weird look.

"Riley?" There was a warning in his voice. "Why is that sound causing your wolf to react?"

I had no idea. Red Canyon howls had never before elicited a reaction from my wolf other than rage and hatred. This, however, felt different. It was like... recognition.

Sincerely, I said, "I do not know." "Perhaps she is just ready to fight."

Dad looked at my face for a long time. As he had taught me, I maintained a blank expression. Do not ever be weak. Never be doubtful.

At last, he stated, "Next week is the Harvest Moon Festival." "Every pack will congregate at the stone circle."

My heart leaped. Unmated wolves could find their destined partners at the festival, which served as a neutral ground. I had been anticipating it and dreading it at the same time.

"Will the Red Canyon Pack be present?" I inquired.

"Sadly, the answer is yes. All packs must attend according to the old laws. In disgust, Dad's lip curled. "Riley, you avoid them. Avoid even glancing in their direction.

"Obviously not."

However, I could not help but wonder about that odd howl as I was saying it. I wondered why my wolf had wanted to respond and who had made that sound. I was more frightened by the thought than by any enemy.

After gathering his training equipment, Dad made his way to the pack house. "Practice until the sun sets. And keep in mind my advice to be merciful.

I vowed, "I will not show mercy to our enemies."

"Good girl."

I turned back toward the valley after watching him leave. It was a lonely, low howl, and it came again. When she wanted to answer, I did not fight my wolf this time.

My scream carried farther than it should have over the mountains. The valley became utterly quiet as the sound subsided. The birds even ceased their singing.

That quiet was like the prelude to a lightning strike. As if a monumental shift was about to occur. I simply had no idea what it was.

A scent I had never smelled before was carried by the shifting wind. It caused my inner wolf to pace uneasily because it was warm and wild. Red Canyon territory was the source of the scent.

From the direction of that strange, sad howl.

My hands started shaking, and I didn't know why.

Asher's Point of View

"Did you catch that howl?" I asked Dad as we walked along the border of our property. "It didn't sound like the typical Silver Moon ones."

Dad's face darkened like storm clouds. His hand automatically touched the blade at his waist. "All Blackwood howls sound identical to me. Like death threats."

The morning air was still filled with the reverberation of something beautiful and untamed. My wolf had longed to answer that summons so desperately it hurt. I didn't know why.

"Maybe they were just greeting the morning," I said quietly. "Not everything has to be war."

Dad had slowed down so I was going to collide into him. His yellow flash of eyes for an instant meant that his wolf was close to the surface. When Dad's wolf came out, it hurt people.

"Not everything is about war?"

His voice was lethal and quiet. "Try telling that to my father, who died with Blackwood claws in his throat."

I'd heard it a thousand times, but it only became more difficult to hear. The old pain in Dad's eyes pained my chest. Certain days I questioned whether he'd forgotten how to feel anything but rage.

"I know what they did to Grandpa was wrong," I told him. "But it was fifty years ago. Perhaps it's time to try something new."

The backhand came so fast, I didn't see it. Dad cracked my lip with his knuckles and sent me reeling backward. Blood ran down my chin, and I tasted it, but I was too afraid to wipe it off.

"Different?" Dad's voice was a bellow. "You want to be different with the wolves who killed your grandfather?"

"I'd like to try not to die in a useless war." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "This vendetta has been burning for a hundred years, Dad. When does it end?"

Dad slapped his hand on my shirt and pulled me into him. His breath was hot in my face, and his eyes were completely wolf yellow. "It ends when all the Blackwoods are dead and in their graves."

"What if there's another way?"

"There is no other way!" Dad shoved me back. "The only good Blackwood is a dead Blackwood. Keep that in your mind when you're Alpha, or you'll not be Alpha for long."

He walked away toward the pack house, leaving me standing on the border by myself. I touched my split lip and tasted blood. Dad's way of teaching always hurt.

The wind passed by with that peculiar scent again, the one that makes my wolf stir uncomfortably inside me. It was from high in the mountains where the Silver Moon Pack lived. Wild and sweet and familiar.

I strolled along the boundary trail to my favorite spot, a boulder outcropping that stared up at Blackwood territory. The mountains rose up like giants' teeth against the blue expanse, beautiful and fatal. Somewhere up there, the next Alpha of our enemies was probably being trained to kill me.

My phone beeped as a text came through from my sister Maya. "Dad's wandering around the house breaking things. What did you do now?"

I wrote, "Asked the wrong questions."

"You need to stop pushing him. He's not going to change his mind about the feud."

Maya was probably right, but I couldn't help it. When I saw Dad's hatred consume him a little bit more each time I saw him, I yearned for another way. The anger was killing him on the inside.

Another howl drifted down from the mountains, soft and melancholy. I recognized this one as the same wolf from before. My wolf whimpered and fought against my control, wanting to howl back.

I let him go.

My howl sailed out over the valley, carrying all the desolation I stored in my heart. As it started to echo away, the mountains grew still like they were holding their breath. The birds stopped singing.

Then came a return call from above. Not angry or threatening like the usual Silver Moon howls. This one was. curious. Like whatever was in the air was questioning me too.

My heart started pounding for no reason. I'd never reacted like this around enemy wolves before. Usually they howled and made me angry or scared. This one made me feel something I couldn't place.

"Asher!" Dad's shout carried down the street from the direction of our house. "Get back here right now!"

I rolled my eyes and walked back toward home. Dad was going to chew me out about howling on Blackwood property. He said it gave away our positions and made us look weak.

I couldn't shake the answering howl from my thoughts, though. There had been something there that called to my wolf. Something that had felt like recognition.

My house was situated in the center of the valley, with our pack members' houses all over. Red rock and timber, built to last for generations. It should have been home but only seemed like a prison lately.

Dad crossed his arms on the porch. His lip was still curled, so I knew I was due for another lecture about pack loyalty and family honor.

"You howled at the enemy," he stated. Not a question. An accusation.

"I howled at the morning. Same as I do every day."

"Don't lie to me, boy. I heard what I heard." Dad advanced a step. "You responded to a Blackwood call. Why?"

I didn't know how to make him understand the pull I'd experienced. The way my wolf had insisted that we respond to that lonely sound. Dad would never experience the hungers like that.

"It was just instinct," I said. "My wolf needed to howl."

"Your wolf needs to learn good instincts." Dad's eyes narrowed. "The Blackwoods aren't our friends, Asher. They're not lonely or misunderstood or any other sentimental thing you may be thinking."

"I know that."

"Do you?" Because from where I was standing, it seemed like you were forgetting who the enemy was. Dad caught my shoulder hard enough to bruise. "Let me remind you."

He dragged me to the pack meeting hall where rusty old swords were on the walls. Swords and spears with blood centuries old. Dad stopped before a glass case where fabric was ripped.

"Your grandfather's shirt," Dad whispered. "The only thing left of him when the Blackwoods finished."

The shirt was splattered with old blood and full of holes created by teeth and claws. I'd seen it a hundred times, but it still sickened me. A man had been killed while wearing that shirt.

"This is what they do to us," Dad continued. "This is what they'll do to you if you let your guard down for a second."

I looked at the torn shirt and tried to feel the rage Dad had wanted me to feel. But all my brain could think about was the lonely howl and the way it had caused my wolf to hum.

"The Harvest Moon Festival is next week," Dad declared unexpectedly. "All the packs will come, including the Blackwoods."

My heart leaped. "Are we really going?"

"Old law requires it. But you stay away from them, Asher. Don't even look in their direction." Dad's fingers pressed deeper into my shoulder. "Promise me."

"I promise."

But even while I said it, I knew I wasn't telling the truth. Something was pulling me towards that festival, something I couldn't resist or defeat. The same something that had made me howl back at the mountains.

Dad released me and turned and went away, but I was still fixed on Grandpa's bloodied shirt. Questioning whether hatred was all that our families could pass on. Questioning whether somewhere in those mountains a Blackwood wolf was doing the same.

The wind shifted again, and with it was that wonderful wild scent. This one more pungent, as if whoever it was it belonged to was also taking up the thought of me. My wolf was fidgety, counting down until the festival.

Seven more days until I met my adversary in person. Seven more days to unravel why my wolf was singing with lust instead of howling for blood.

Something had me believing those seven days would turn everything around.

Riley's Point of View

"Sit with me, child." I passed by the kitchen window and heard Grandma Elena call out. "We need to talk."

Her silver hair was braided with wildflowers when I sat down with her at the old wooden table. The herbs she was brewing into tea perfumed the air with secrets and moonlight. My wolf stirred restlessly at the scent.

"Is this about my Alpha trials?" I inquired, sitting down in the chair across from her. "Because Dad already gave the lecture on not taking pity."

Grandma Elena gazed into my face as if she were reading a book in her wan eyes. She'd always been able to read more than anyone else. I'd wondered in the past if she knew what I was thinking before I did.

She whispered, "This is about the festival," "Riley, things change with the Harvest Moon. Significant changes that impact generations.

There were unexplainable butterflies in my stomach. "What kind of changes?"

"The kind that question all that you think you know about yourself." Grandma Elena filled two teacups. "The kind that causes you to choose between duty and destiny."

The tea tasted of wild berries and moonlight. Her words gave me shivers but warmed me from the inside out. Riddles irritated me, especially if they made my wolf pace nervously.

"I'm afraid of you, Grandma. What's happening at the festival?"

"I'm not sure, actually. I see shadows on the moon instead of clear images. She reached across the table and took my hand. "Granddaughter, I sense a decision coming. One which will forever alter our family.

The kitchen was warm, but her fingertips were cold. I rubbed them gently, trying to get her to just say whatever it was. My head hurt from all this beating around the bush.

"What if I make the wrong choice?" I said.

"There is simply a list of decisions; there is not a right or wrong decision. Some decisions, however, are more difficult to walk than others. Grandma Elena's eyes widened. "Sometimes the heart knows things the mind will not accept.""

The front door closed before I could catch a glimpse of what she was about to do. "I'm back!" Jake's voice called out. Although he did sound strange. I was dubious about how they seemed happy.

"Where has that boy been?" Grandmother Elena said under her breath. "He's been disappearing every day this week."

I had also noticed. Jake would disappear after breakfast and only return in time for dinner. He just shrugged and spoke of something else whenever anyone asked him where he had been. He was not the sort of person who kept secrets.

"Maybe he got himself a girlfriend," I suggested. "He has been acting very dreamy."

"Hmm." Grandma Elena didn't sound so certain. "People do crazy things when they're in love. Recklesshings.

With pine needles covering his clothing and his sandy hair dishevelled, Jake stood in the kitchen doorway. I hadn't seen him smile that broadly in months. He was having a good time doing whatever he'd been doing.

Grandma Elena, hello. Riley, hello. He took an apple from the bowl on the counter. "What are you two discussing?"

"The festival," I muttered, observing his reaction. "Are you excited about it?"

Jake's smile hesitated for a second. He looked at me and then at Grandma Elena and back again. Yeah, sure. It'll be okay.

"Dad says all the packs will be there, even Red Canyon.", I said it casually. "He wants me to stay away from them altogether."

Jake said, "That's probably a good idea," but his voice was tense. "No point in going out of your way to find trouble."

Grandma Elena was also keeping a close eye on Jake with her piercing eyes. She knew something, too, I could tell. Normally, the first one to utter something negative about the Steeles, Jake was apprehensive about the topic today.

"Jake, sweetie, where have you been hanging out during the days?" Grandma Elena gently asked. "Your mother is worried."

"Running just along the trails. Getting prepared for the party. To avoid more questions, Jake took a large bite of the apple. "I should go shower."

Before either of us being able to say anything else, he quickly exited the kitchen. I turned to glance at Grandma Elena across the table. Something was clearly incorrect.".

As I talked, "He's lying," "Jake doesn't do hours of trails daily. He detests exercising.

"That boy is concealing something big." Grandma Elena took a reflective sip of tea. "I can smell it on him."

Jake had been smelling different lately, now that she brought it up. Like fresh air, like pine trees, but like something else also that I couldn't place. Something which, rather than warning my wolf, made him interested.

"Should I follow him tomorrow?" I asked. "See what he's really doing?"

"No, child. When the time comes, some secrets are told. Grandma Elena put her cup down. "But at the festival, beware. People will do what they never would have dreamed under the full moon."

I shuddered. "You're really scared of something, aren't you?"

"Riley, I know you fret about decisions. I know you fret about hearts desiring the wrong things. She looked at me with weary eyes. "I fear history repeating itself."

"What do you mean, history repeating itself?"

Grandma Elena simply shook her head and occupied herself with removing the tea cups. It's not my place to tell some stories. At least not yet.

I recognised that look, but I wanted to press her for information. There was nothing that would get Grandma Elena to talk when she did not want to talk. Still, as I returned to my bedroom, I had her words ringing in my head.

Decisions have repercussions on generations yet to come. Hearts that desire things that they ought not. History is repeating itself.

What was it in my family's history that she feared would occur once more?

I sat on my bed and gazed at the ceiling while I pondered Grandma Elena's warnings and Jake's odd behaviour. With six days to go before the festival, nerves were on edge.

My best friend Sarah sent me a text message, and my phone buzzed. "I am so excited about the festival! Maybe I'll finally meet my soul mate."

I typed to reply, "Maybe we both will." But I felt a pang in my chest of fear even as I wrote it.

What if my partner wasn't from our pack? What if he wasn't even from a pack that we were allied with? I was ill with concern over the thought, but I couldn't let it go.

I dreamed that night I was wailing to some unseen person across a valley. A voice wailed back in the dream, lonely and sad but somehow, somehow familiar. My pillow was wet with tears I had no recollection of shedding when I awakened.

Jake left before breakfast the following morning. This time, I was determined to follow him, even though Grandma Elena warned me not to. I had to find out what was making him so secretive and jubilant.

I tracked his scent through the woods, staying back far enough that he wasn't aware of me. My stomach twisted with worry as his path led toward the border of our land. What was Jake doing near enemy territory?

At the edge of a new meadow, the scent ended. There was no sign of Jake, but I could hear voices shouting from the trees opposite me. Jake's was unmistakably one of them.

My blood ran cold as I heard the second voice.

It was a Red Canyon accent and young, and male.