Beloved Runt
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M. J. Watts
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2,5M
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42
1: Chapter 1
EDMON HUNTINGTON
Traveling had become a chore. I tried to avoid it as much as possible, but when the king calls, you answer.
Honestly, the task of taking a census of every pack was beneath me. It was a job for a clerk or a steward, not the kingâs uncle. But that was just the cover story for my absence from court. We didnât want any prying eyes getting too curious about my visits.
My next stop was the Ever Green pack. A small, rural pack with nothing special about it.
If I had my way, I would have skipped this pack entirely. They wouldnât have what I was looking for, but to keep up the pretense of taking a census, I had to visit each pack, no matter how insignificant.
Iâd been traveling for hours on foot in my wolf form.
I managed to cover most of the distance on a royal jet, but this pack was so remote that the luxury cars I was used to couldnât reach it. And if they didnât have cars, I doubted theyâd have a helipad. So, I was stuck traveling on foot.
I never liked solitary packs. The isolation messed with their minds, making them lose touch with reality. At best, they were uncooperative. At worst, they were dangerous.
Every few years, a pack would become so deluded that they posed a threat to other packs and potentially the Crown.
Then, theyâd have to be dealt with. If nothing else, this trip would at least confirm that this pack still had their sanity.
As I trudged deeper into the woods, the cold and crunch of the snow seeped into the pads of my feet. My breath came out in foggy puffs as I labored.
Thank the Goddess my wolf had a thick winter coat. The temperature was dropping fast with the setting sun. I hoped there was a warm bath waiting for me at the end of this.
I was so deep in thought that I almost didnât notice someone following me. Theyâd been tailing me for the last few miles. I wasnât worried. I was an ancient.
My lineage traced back to a pure and old line of wolves that, according to legend, started with the Goddess herself. That came with many benefits that made me stronger than most wolves. Challenging me was like challenging death.
I paused for a moment, listening. Whoever was watching me was good. They were so quiet that even I was having trouble figuring out where they were.
Impressive. I kept walking, careful not to let on that I knew I was being watched. The last thing I wanted after a long day of travel was to get into a fight with a random wolf, no matter how certain I was of winning.
A few yards later, my watcher revealed himself. A large, dark steel-gray wolf jumped down in front of me, blocking my path. He was baring his teeth and snarling at me.
Annoyed, I narrowed my eyes at him. But his actions gave me a chance to get a better look at him. This wolf was big, even for an alpha. In fact, he was almost as big as me.
This warranted further investigation. Maybe he had some ancient blood in him. If so, my orders were clear.
While I was studying the wolf, two more wolves jumped down on either side of me.
Where the fuck did they come from? Now they had my attention.
It was rare for me to be caught off guard, and I was annoyed that Iâd let it happen. As I took in the appearance of the two new wolves, I saw they were almost as big as the first one.
Suddenly, my chances of winning in a fight were looking slim. It was time to get strategic.
Before they could ambush me, I crouched down, gathering my strength. Then I sprinted up and over the steel-gray wolf and dashed through the trees. My best chance was to outrun them.
I just needed to reach the pack, and Iâd be rid of them.
My wolf grinned as I sped away from the group. In a fight, speed can be more valuable than brute force, and many packs underestimate the importance of stamina.
But my victory was short-lived. Soon, I heard more snarling and howling behind me. How were they keeping up with me? It was clear these wolves werenât normal.
I ran up a hill, trying to gain higher ground, but was stopped by another small group who were already ahead. I turned to run in a different direction, only to run into another small group.
How many of them are there? Every turn I took was met with resistance. My usually cool demeanor was starting to crack.
With my strength, I knew I could outmaneuver them. It was just a matter of time.
That was until I found myself in a ravine. Those bastardsâŠ
The ravine was high on three sides. And too steep to jump up or climb without being pulled back down. This was the worst possible position to be in.
Looking at my predicament, I realized they werenât chasing me. They were herding meâright to this spot where I couldnât escape. Running was no longer an option.
Fine then. I wasnât a fan of fighting, but I wasnât opposed to defending myself when necessary. I turned to face the group of wolves, realizing my mistake.
Iâd let my pride and confidence blind me. Iâd assumed I was dealing with some common country wolves who were usually too stupid to do any real damage. But these wolves were too organized, too well-prepared.
Not a group of country bumpkins, but a well-organized pack. Was this the Ever Green pack? Well, they were in for a surprise.
It was only a few moments before the steel-gray wolf and his companions caught up with me. They slowed once they reached the ravine.
They were growling, jaws open, teeth bared, fur standing on end as they approached me menacingly.
I stared at the leader, furious at the situation Iâd gotten myself into. The leader stared back, anger radiating off him as he crouched down, ready to attack. That was when I unleashed my own power.
I was an ancient, damn it! I wouldnât be humiliated like this.
I let my alpha power hit them all with full force. The leader fell before he could launch his attack, shaking his head as he fought the urge to submit.
His companions, however, started whining and yipping as they did what their wolves demanded. One by one, they fell to the ground, lowering their heads in respect to the alpha in front of them.
The pack leader was the last to submit, a growl threatening to escape his throat. I shot him a warning look; he shouldnât pick a fight he couldnât win.
The leader started to lift his head in defiance, but his eyes glazed over and he froze. Someone was communicating with him through their pack link.
I waited while he had his mental conversation. It was only a few moments before he was back to normal. The wolf then shifted into a young man in his twenties with reddish-brown hair.
I was taken aback. How could such a strong, cunning wolf be so young? He couldnât be the alpha, could he?
The man stood naked but unashamed in front of me, a scowl on his face.
âIdentify yourself!â he demanded.
Donât get snippy with me, pup. I looked down at him in my wolf form.
âI am Lord Edmon Huntington,â I mind-linked to them. The leaderâs eyes widened and several of the other pack members yelped, startled by my response.
My inner wolf smirked at their fear. As an ancient, I could communicate with others in my wolf form. I didnât have to degrade myself by standing naked in front of others just to be heard.
âI am here as a representative of the Royal pack and the king,â I continued, letting my alpha power seep into my words. âWho am I speaking to?â
The leader glanced at his companions, unsure of what to do. He turned back to me before he spoke, meeting my gaze. The kid either had guts or a death wish.
âI am Dalton, future alpha of the Ever Green pack.â Truth.
âWhat does the king want with us?â The boyâs voice was steady and dark, betraying no hint of fear.
âThatâs none of your business!â I snapped at him.
âThe only one I answer to is the king, so unless you plan to defy him and his orders, I suggest you take me to your pack house right now. Iâve come a long way and Iâm not impressed with the welcome Iâve received.â
The boyâyes, he was just a boyâmade me wait for a moment as I glared at him, before shifting back into his wolf form. He walked up to me and gestured with his head for me to follow, then took off.
Irritated by his lack of manners, I decided the sooner I followed, the sooner I could rest. I could deal with his behavior later.
After about an hour of running, the tall trees gave way to a large log house. It wasnât very big for a pack house, but a pack of their size didnât need it to be.
Light spilled out of the windows and smoke billowed from several chimneys, hinting at the warmth inside. It was a little rustic for my taste, but it would do for now.
In front of the pack house stood a large man who looked a lot like Dalton. This must be the alpha. As I approached, the alpha nodded his head to me in respect.
âWelcome, my lord. Please forgive us. We werenât expecting you,â the man said respectfully. Truth.
âI am Alpha Langston. What brings you to our pack?â Finally, someone with some manners.
âI am Lord Edmon Huntington,â I mind-linked him. âThe king has tasked me with visiting various packs and assessing their status. Your pack is one of the last on my list.â
The alphaâs eyes showed concern. âAn assessment? Is there a problem with our paperwork or taxes?â
His concern was understandable. Most alphas were confident and proud. They didnât like the idea of someone else scrutinizing their domain.
âNot that I know of. The king just thought a personal visit was necessary for some of the more remote areas.â This seemed to ease the alphaâs worries. I didnât want him on edge until after Iâd looked through his records.
âI see. Well, we should be grateful for the visit while we can.â Lie. âPlease come inside. Weâll have a room ready for you right away.â
The alpha gestured toward the house and I was more than happy to oblige. The front door was large enough for me to fit through, which I was grateful for since I was still without clothes.
The pack house opened up to a large reception room that was spacious enough for me to stand in. The colors were warm and the heat from the house helped to thaw my frozen paws.
A teenage boy, also with reddish hair and holding a bundle of clothes, approached Langston and whispered something to him. Langston looked thoughtfully at the bundle the boy held, then nodded his head before turning to me, putting an arm around the boyâs shoulders.
âYouâve already met my son Dalton in the woods. This is my younger son, Edwin.â The boy bowed his head at the introduction. I acknowledged it with a slight nod of my own.
âEdwin will show you to your room, my lord, where you can change. Iâll be waiting in the great hall when youâre ready.â
I looked at the boy who was going to show me the way. He nervously fiddled with the bundle before turning down the hallway. âTh-this way, my lord,â he stuttered.
As I followed Edwin down the hallway, I glanced back.
Langston was walking up to his son, Dalton, who was now dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants. He tried to speak to him in hushed tones, but my sensitive hearing could still make out the words.
âArtie is in the kitchen,â he simply said. Daltonâs eyes widened and he shot a worried glance in my direction before running off.
