Filed to story: Wolf Crying Mate of the Alpha by Jazz Ford
It feels like home. Ember approaches me with a violet flower in his mouth and drops it on my lap.
‘Thank you, Ember. It’s such a pretty flower. It’s the same colour as my eyes,’ I smile and look down at Ember’s sweet furry face.
Lying on my bed with Ember snuggled up next to me, I listen to the sound of the waterfall, the birds singing, and the breeze blowing through the trees before drifting off to sleep.
Maia: 18 years old
It’s rare to see other humans in the forest, and when I do see them, I follow them quietly, without making my presence known. I sit up high in a tree and listen to their conversations to learn what I can about the world outside the forest.
They speak about werewolves and how much they loathe them, that they are unnatural beings who should be eradicated. They say werewolves are ferocious and dangerous, that they kill their own young.
After hearing these conversations, I fear werewolves, and I wouldn’t dare approach one if I ever came across one.
My forest is the only land neither king rules. It’s neutral land between two opposing kingdoms, and most people do not dare to enter.
The humans say it’s only a matter of time until war breaks out between the two kingdoms: West Wallow, the human realm, ruled by King Fenris, and Moon Crest Valley, the werewolf realm, ruled by Alpha King Damon.
They speak about how Alpha King Damon still hasn’t found his mate and Luna of his kingdom. Werewolves are blessed with a soul mate the Moon Goddess selects. Upon one’s eighteenth birthday, they can sense their mate if they’re nearby.
At twenty-four, being mateless is rare, and Alpha King Damon may not find his fated mate. The humans speculate that perhaps his mate has passed away before he has had a chance to meet her, or maybe the Moon Goddess has cursed him, and he will be mateless indefinitely. A mate by his side would increase his strength and the power of his pack. They discuss King Fenris’ intentions to conquer Moon Crest Valley by slaughtering the werewolves.
Everyone is eager for King Fenris to marry, so they will have a queen and heirs to the throne. Without heirs, the people of West Wallow worry what will happen to them if something happens to their king.
Until now, I have survived on the forest’s offerings my whole life. But, lately, villagers and soldiers have come into my forest for food, gathering enormous harvests of fruit, herbs and mushrooms, depleting my food supply dry.
It’s becoming harder to find food, and I worry there won’t be enough left for me to eat. The animals are hunted, killed, and used for meat and fur. It’s heartbreaking finding my friends’ bodies scattered through the forest. They’re creatures I have lived with my whole life.
Ember and I go to his old den to find the remains of other foxes. I’m devastated and inconsolable. Ember looks at me, and his eyes glaze over. I see and feel the hurt in his eyes. I collapse to the ground, hold Ember close to my chest, and cry into the warmth of his neck.
‘I’m so sorry, Ember,’ I cry.
Grey clouds darken the sky, and heavy rain begins to pour down on us. The raindrops roll down my cheeks and merge with my tears.
‘The sky is crying with us,’ I say. When I manage to stop crying, the rain settles.
Humming and singing a sorrowful song, I feel like my heart brims with a pain that will never go away.
My home has been gradually destroyed, my friends have been killed, and I’m no longer safe in this forest. I look down at my hands and see a soft glow coming from my palms. I hear rustling in the bushes in front of me.
Shocked by my presence, two men and a woman can’t believe what they’re seeing. Both men wear tunics and breeches and have knives in their belts. The woman, who wears a dress and a shawl, carries a long, thick stick with dead rabbits tied to it.
The anger inside me builds, and I feel an all-consuming, all-powerful energy course through my veins. A force of energy expels from my palms in the form of a gust of wind as I unknowingly manipulate the wind and yell at the human invaders.
‘Get out of my forest and never come back!’ I scream. The gust of wind almost knocks them over. They run away quickly and out of sight.
‘Did I just do that?’ I ask Ember.
Arriving at their village, panting and out of breath, John sits down on a bench and looks at Fay and Ed. Fay rests the stick with rabbits against a stone wall and sits beside John and Ed.
‘Did you see that? I’ve never seen such a beautiful girl. Her voice was so angelic, her skin glowed, and her eyes were violet. She was scary, but boy, was she beautiful.’ John says. Fay nods and agrees with him.
‘She summoned the wind and almost blew us away,’ Ed says.
‘She did. She must be a Goddess or a Princess. Why would she tell us to get out of her forest? She doesn’t own it.’ Fay says.
‘Maybe she lives there? I’ve never seen her in any of the villages. I’d remember a face as enchanting as hers.’ Ed says.
They tell everyone in the village about what they have heard and seen, and a few of their neighbours believe them. A few of the villagers have heard her beautiful singing voice many times in the forest while harvesting food and hunting.
All the villagers refer to Maia as the Forest Princess, and children beg their parents to tell them the story of the Enchanted Forest Princess.
Maia
The following day I climb a tree near my cave and watch a woman holding a wicker basket. She kneels on the ground, plucks a few mushrooms from the soil and puts them in her basket. There goes my dinner. The woman, unaware of my presence, wanders off, and my stomach rumbles. I’m so hungry.
I reluctantly follow the woman, knowing I need food. After a few hours, we reach the edge of the forest, and I watch the woman, with her basket, walk through a grassy field toward a small hill. I freeze at the forest’s edge, admiring the clear blue sky, the grassy field, and the small hill ahead.
‘I’ve never left the forest before. I need to know where they’re taking all my food,’ I tell Ember.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the field of grass and exhale. I had been nervously holding my breath.
‘Okay, that wasn’t so bad,’ I tell Ember. Ember steps forward. ‘No, Ember. You must stay here. If anything goes wrong, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. Go home to our cave. I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise,’ I tell him.
I cuddle him and kiss him on the head.
‘Off you go, little one.’ I watch Ember run deep into the forest, back to our cave.
After walking across the field, I reach the top of the small hill and crouch down when I spot a busy village with market stalls and many people. The men wear tunics and breeches in assorted colours, styles and fabrics. Some of them wear velvet capes. Some even wear silver armour and daggers under their cloaks.
The women wear long gowns and cloaks or shawls, and their hair is styled in braids or buns. Some women wear strange headdresses made of feathers and flowers. I was surprised by one lady. She may as well have stuck a whole peacock on her head.
I can’t stand naked in front of everyone it doesn’t seem right, and I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. Covering one’s body with clothing seems like the acceptable thing to do.
Creeping closer without being seen, I hide behind a large barrel and a wooden wall covered in parchments. There are small symbols and scribblings on these sheets of paper. I don’t know what they say because I can’t read. I look around and spot a stall selling different garments.
I snatch two items I can easily reach from a wooden table and run back behind the wooden wall covered in parchments. I step into the roughly-sewn brown dress that reaches my ankles and push my slender arms into the sleeves of an olive-green velvet cloak that touches the ground. I fasten the clasp over my collarbone and pull the hood over my head. These clothes will do just fine. No one can see my face, and I’ll blend in perfectly with these.
I step out into the hustle and bustle of the market, blending in with the crowd perfectly. All the talking, trading, and haggling is quite foreign to me. I’ve never heard so many human voices all at once. Older women sit on wooden crates gossiping away, while young children run in groups after stray ducks, laughing, ignoring their parents who admonish them and demand they return to their sides. Adolescent girls giggle and gawp at groups of young men a distance away.
Many of the stalls sell fruit, seeds, herbs and mushrooms products that have all come from my forest. Men in armour, presumably soldiers, fill wooden crates they are holding with these goods. A soldier shouts for all stall-holders to hear, and the market grows quiet. Only the barks of dogs and the quacks of the stray ducks can be heard.
‘By order of King Fenris! King Fenris orders everyone to donate half their food to their sovereign again. These donations will feed his soldiers when we go to war against Alpha King Damon.’
Most people in the crowd around me yell in protest, and it consoles me, knowing they feel how I feel, not having enough food to eat. So I watch on silently while crunching on an apple I pick from a stall.
‘We won’t have enough food for our children and ourselves if we have to keep giving it away to the soldiers!’ A mother of seven small children, who cling to her dress skirts, cries.
‘Either help support the war, and win, or don’t support the war and lose! I guarantee the first thing the werewolves will do if they win is rip your children apart, limb by limb, and eat them!’ The man shouts back in response to this woman’s pleas. I shudder at the thought of innocent children being ripped apart by werewolves.
The crowd let out gasps, knowing they have no choice but to put the food they have just bought into the crates for the soldiers. So this is why they’re taking food from my forest.
Turning, I accidentally bump into a stall, making a table wobble, and apologise to the stall-holder sitting on a barrel. He smiles and says, ‘Not to worry, darlin’. But, to my horror, he is selling fox pelts and some other extremely large furs from an animal I’ve never seen before.
Another man, standing beside me, also looks horrified by what the stall-holder is selling. It’s unexpected when this man purchases every large pelt the stall-holder has.
I instantly feel emotional, my eyes become teary, and my stomach churns. I think I’m going to be sick, so I plant my hand over my mouth and run away from the stalls and toward a row of cottages.