Arthur POV

Omar’s gaze lingered on the unseen in a silent valediction between body and soul. Pain exploded in every part of my being. Like the agony of my first shift that broke every bone in my body, this pain chattered my soul. I sat there, hands over his non-beating heart, refusing to let go.

He’s dead. The thought was lost on me. Omar had never been still, or cold, or absent, or…dead.

He’s dead. The ruthless realization knocked the air out of me.

How?

I sank on my heels, clutching my chest like the little child I once was before I met him, before he found me in a crippling tangle of confusion, loneliness, and despair that was my first shift. I wouldn’t have survived without him.

I was an early shifter at twelve years old. When the pain struck, I distanced myself from the pack, like a dying wolf, and went into the forest. This was my fight not only with the change, but also to prove my worth to my demanding father. I had to go though it alone as per the way of the West Claw pack.

By the time I reached the lake, I was crawling. My ligaments had long since snapped, rendering my feet useless. The sharp pain left me breathless and disoriented.

A new wave of torture started to build. As it grew, my fear soared, spreading its stench around me like a vulture waiting for my demise.

Omar, a visitor Alpha from far away, had found me stuck mid shift. Oblivious to the rules of my pack, he approached me.
Pain painted my vision with a million colors, turning the world around me into an abstract canvas.

“Breathe, son. Embrace the pain. Don’t resist it.” He rested a large hand on my head. Its warmth seeped through my skin, slowing my heart and allowing me to wheeze through my compressed lungs which my fear had had emptied of all air.
The pain came back like an inevitable fate, causing chaos to erupt in my mind.
It was too soon. No one had ever prepared me for the madness that accompanied the torment. When the pressure dug at my temples, rendering my senses useless, a small door of deceiving light opened, inviting me to lose myself, promising a salvation from my never ending agony. It was easy to let go, too tempting even.

In my whirlpool of affliction, I reached for the light. Losing the fight to a blissful madness seemed like a victory to me, but Omar didn’t let me.

“Fight it, boy. Fight it.” He growled, shaking my wrecked body, urging a scream to expel from my chest and join the sky as a resounding howl.

I fell into darkness and woke up a wolf.

“You did it, pup.” I heard it in my head. Spinning around on my shaking paws, I didn’t find the source.

Omar chuckled. “It’s me, pup. Look at you. Strong and healthy. Your father will be proud of you.”

I puffed my chest and stamped my paws as if I didn’t know better.

“Talk to me, boy. What’s your name?”
My wolf was drawn to him like the bond I shared with my father, minus the constant disappointment.

“Why am I hearing you?” I asked, watching my wolf rub itself on him.

“What do you mean?” He scratched my ear. “Why were you shifting alone? You trapped me with you, boy. Where’s your mentor?”

A mentor?

“What do you mean by mentor?”

“The person who assists you during your first shift. They form an instinctive bond with your wolf, like a father-son bond. Thus, they’ll have to mentor you until adulthood.”

I slumped on my hindquarters.
“So, you’re my mentor now?” I tilted my head to the side. “Oh, sorry, my name is Arthur. I never heard of this. We go through our first shift alone in my pack, never assisted. Will my father be mad when he knows you helped me?” I whimpered.

Omar didn’t answer, but the frown on his face told me everything—this wasn’t normal.

We walked back to the pack house. My steps faltered the closer we got. The entire pack gathered, waiting to see if I made it.
Howls rose when they saw me approaching until Omar came into view. The rare smile that was about to form on my father’s lips perished. He growled, charging at Omar.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, Richard?” Omar asked, raising his palms.

“Were you with him?” My father gritted.

“With him? Where? I got lost in the forest. When I spotted this pup playing, I followed him here.”

My father sighed, not sparing my eager wolf a glance. I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was. He kept his suspicious stare at Omar, who didn’t back down. Then he turned his back on us and ordered us to follow him to his office.

********

My father flipped the desk, sending everything on it flying. I hid behind Omar, clutching the hem of his tunic.

“What did you do to him? Mentorship creates dependency. We shift alone, Omar. That’s what makes a powerful wolf. ”

“He was stuck, Richard. He could have died.”

“If he dies, then he’s not worthy of being the next alpha of the West Claw pack.”

Omar clutches his fists. “What is done is done. The bond is formed. I’m taking him with me to the desert. If he survived, you’ll gain an heir. If he doesn’t,” he spitted, “you won’t lose a son.”

My father’s eyes flickered towards me, then looked away as if I was damaged goods. He turned to the window behind him, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, he sent me to the great desert of Algeria. The home of the golden wolf.

Because of Omar, I found a home in my alienation and found life in the land of death. I thrived.

Today, he was dead, and I was left with a debt I wouldn’t be able to pay for the rest of my life.

My surroundings came back to life. The growls rose around me. I stood on my feet, squaring my shoulders. My eyes zeroed on Julius as a small door opened in my mind revealing an iridescence of lights, calling for me to lose myself. I reached for the light as my feet took me to him.

The world around me became nothing but endless dunes of sand. I swallowed through my dry throat. Nothing would quench my thirst except for his blood. So I fixed my gaze on Julius as Omar’s voice resonated in my head.

“Save your energy to when you strike. Watch your prey. Learn from it. If you’re patient enough, it will speak to you. It will tell you how to kill it.”

Julius had shifted into his wolf. With mousy, patched fur, he looked like a hyena. He didn’t see me coming at first, but when our eyes clashed, he knew his sentence was pronounced. My claws elongated like silver daggers as I marched with the determination of an executor. Everyone stepped back as I passed when they saw death pushing my steps.

He didn’t wait until I reached him. He charged at me, but I would not fight him. Omar deserved a chance to fight for his life, but he robbed him of it.

I clutched his neck between my paws and slammed him on the ground. He struggled like the snake he was, but I squeezed harder. His eyes bulged, and foam formed on his open muzzle. He kicked and clawed, but I didn’t feel it. I pulled him and hit his head on the ground again. It cracked, then broke, then shattered. With every hit, my rage roared. It wasn’t enough to hurt him.

It wasn’t enough to kill him.
Nothing seemed to be enough.
Omar deserved a chance to fight.

Julius’ inert body mocked me. I closed my eyes and let out an earth shattering howl. No one could win against the dead.

A sorrowful howl mirrored my own. My eyes sprang open, then widened. Like a painter in the middle of her art studio, Blenda stood, covered in blood. Dead rogues surrounded her.

A small voice whispered in my mind, We don’t kill prisoners.

My reason came back to me, and I tensed. I hesitantly turned to my king. He stood tall with his black mane reaching the middle of his back. His hand rose to stop his knights from intervening.

“They’d attacked the participants in the tunnels. She only did what we would have done.”

Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Today we do.