Other werewolves

Other werewolves


Another week had gone by rather quickly. The days seemed to blur together in a quiet haze of routine, and somehow, without realizing it, I had fully come to terms about my situation. The initial fear and uncertainty that had clawed at me when I first arrived had dulled into a steady acceptance, and over time, I found peace in staying here, knowing, deep down, that I was safe and cared for in a way I never had been before. No more getting yelled at by parents who didn’t understand me or sitting in detention for days on end, forgotten and ignored. It was just calm now. Rather peaceful, really like I’d stepped into a world completely different from the one I came from.

I had actually begged them every day relentlessly, desperately, to heal my heels, and they finally gave in yesterday, unable to refuse me any longer. The relief I felt was overwhelming. So now, most of me was fully healed, the lingering aches and rawness finally gone. I’d spent hours practicing walking around my room, pacing carefully at first until I gained back my full strength and confidence.

I was now sitting down, relaxed yet alert, with my back pressed against Winston’s broad, steady chest while I rested on his lap. His warmth grounded me. We were waiting patiently for Xavier to finish a few things before today’s training, which I was very excited for more than I had been for anything in a while. I wouldn't have to be crawling around anymore like some helpless creature. And hopefully, today would be the day I’d finally get to see the people who lived here inside these walls, or maybe even the visitors and guards, without them having to leave whenever I trained. My mates had always been weary about something having to do with people being nearby during my training, something unspoken that made them tense. But I hoped they would get over it because in my heart, I believed there was nothing to worry about.

The sound of the door creaking open startled me, breaking my thoughts like shattered glass. My head snapped up, alert, and my attention immediately went to Xavier, who was making his way over to us with a calm but focused expression. I was already ready with my muzzle secured tightly and my chained leash on, fastened as it always was, so I was confused when I saw another leash dangling from his hands.

"This is for extra precaution," he said in a low voice, hovering over me, and without hesitation, he reached down to attach the second leash. The metal clicked softly, final. I didn’t mind this extra step, and allowed it silently, standing up once it was clipped in place. My body moved automatically, trained to wait for both of them to get up and start walking before I did.

As soon as Xavier opened the door, I was instantly hit with a flood of overwhelming scents and loud, disorienting noises. It was like being slammed into a new world. Since I was always in my room, I never heard or smelled anything other than what was brought directly into my space, my mates’ familiar scents, the rich aromas of the many delicious foods they gave to me. But now... now it was chaos. New, wild, dizzying. I slightly jerked myself back into the room out of pure instinct, fear prickling up my spine, but I forced myself to stop. I knew if I did the slightest thing wrong or gave them even the smallest idea that I wasn’t ready, this would all be over before it even began.

"Are you sure he's ready..?" Xavier mumbled to Winston, his tone low but loud enough for me to hear.

"I believe so. You were out way before this so he's had way more time, but some little ones can be harder to train than others," Winston smirked, his eyes flicking toward me.

I stopped and looked over to him after hearing his words. What did he mean by the first part? The question echoed in my mind, unanswered and unsettling.

Xavier’s heavy sigh once again brought my attention back to him as he made his way further from the door and into the long, echoing hallway that led into one of the large, mysterious rooms within the castle. I was positioned carefully in between both of them, like a fragile thread held tight, with a leash being held in either hand by the two males. I didn't understand why they were being so cautious—until we turned the corner.

Then I saw it.

We were met by a large staircase, one that curved downward in wide stone steps, leading below to what looked like a storm of people. The space was massive, like a ballroom, and it looked like there was a whole party of ten-foot people gathered down there, their laughter and voices booming.

"I smell other wolves."

My wolf's comment nearly startled me, the sudden presence of his voice in my head sharper than expected, though it was hard to be more surprised than I already was by the crowd. I lifted my face up and started sniffing the air, focusing, and he was right. The scent was strong. Familiar, even. I did smell other wolves.

Without permission, without even thinking about it, I took a step further out toward the railing. I expected to be shocked or punished for moving without instruction, pain or scolding, something. But they didn’t do anything.

They let me move.

It was as if they wanted me to take the step out on my own free will. Like they were waiting for me to decide when I was ready.