What's Next - Pt.2
What's Next - Pt.2
The Reluctant Queen - Chapter 2:
For me, I love being on the road. I only stayed with one pack for a maximum of nine months before moving on to another, sometimes spending a few days or weeks on the road alone before moving to a new pack. I liked having time to myself and being somewhere where nobody knew my name just as much as I liked traveling, meeting all kinds of people – human and non-human – seeing how different packs ran, picking up new skills, and having new experiences.
I didn’t always date, like I did with Brian in Moon River, but indulged when I found an attractive and single wolf I was interested in.
I only stayed about three months in Moon River before deciding it was time to move on. Part of my decision was due to the upcoming Alpha ceremony and the attention that would bring to me, the other part was because there just wasn’t anything at Moon River that intrigued me enough to stay.
It was a fine pack, the leadership was fair and strong, the people were happy and had created a good community, but there was something about it that was just... typical. They lacked anything special or exciting that made it worth staying for a few more months. Unfortunately, that included Brian. He was a very nice wolf and would make a good Beta but, to be brutally honest, I had started thinking about him as “Boring Brian”. That’s when I knew it was time to plan my next move.
That was another misconception people had about my lifestyle; many, like Brian, assumed I was aimlessly wandering, when I actually carefully planned my move from one pack to the next. I had to.
Currently, I was headed east and up into the mountains to the Frost Claw pack which was renowned for their ice sculpting business. I hoped for the opportunity to try my hand at sculpting while I was there.
My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts of ice sculpture. Seeing my grandfather’s name come up on the screen, I clicked the button on my steering wheel that accepted the call through the car’s Bluetooth system.
“Hi, Papa,” I answered the call.
“Hello, my darling. You left Moon River this morning?” I knew he knew the answer. He tracked my phone from home so he always knew where I was, for safety.
“Yes, I decided it was time to move on.”
“So soon? I thought that young Beta had caught your attention.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“He may have caught it, but he couldn’t hold it,” I quipped.
Papa laughed, “Oh I look forward to the day you meet someone who will not just hold your attention, but captivate it, my darling.”
I rolled my eyes. My grandfather, my aunt and uncle were always telling me I’d find someone to settle down with, but I wasn’t so sure. Besides, I’m only 22 years old.
“How are Aunt Amelia and Uncle Thatcher? Are they back from their safari yet?” I asked, purposefully changing the subject.
“They’re due back in two days. You know I support Amelia, but I really just don’t understand why a wolf wants to go on a trip to look at other animals in the bush.”
I chuckled, “I think it’s more about the location and landscape than the animals. The pictures she’s sent me of the savannah are stunning.”
Papa and I chatted about my aunt’s trip for a little longer before wrapping up the call.
“When do you anticipate reaching the Frost Claw pack?” he asked me.
“The day after tomorrow, I think. I’m going to stay at a motel in a human town for the night tonight and see how far I make it tomorrow.”
“Ok, drive safe and make sure you stop if you get too tired,” he said.
“Will do, Papa. I’ll call you when I’m settled at Frost Claw if not sooner. Love you,” I said, ending the call.
My grandfather was everything to me. He, along with my Aunt Amelia and Uncle Thatcher, had raised me. When I was a baby, my mother died in an attack and my father passed away when I was nine. He wasn’t much of a parent to me in those years.
When a werewolf loses their fated mate, it’s not uncommon for the surviving mate to die of a broken heart; sometimes having pups to live for helps. My parents weren’t fated mates, but my father still took my mother’s death very hard. It turned him bitter, withdrawn, and resentful. As a little girl, he told me he hated looking at me because I reminded him so much of my mother and I had survived the attack that took her.
Luckily, I had my grandfather, my mom’s father, and my Aunt Amelia, my father’s sister, and her mate Uncle Thatcher, to provide me with a loving home and family.
Dusk was beginning to fall when I reached the small human town where I would be sending the night. Parking in the lot for the Shady Oak Motel, I took my overnight bag from the back seat and made my way to the lobby.
“Welcome to Shady Oak. How can I help you this evening?” a young woman at the desk greeted me. She was a small thing, short and thin with black hair in a pixie cut that brought out her large blue eyes. She looked tired despite her perky tone of voice.
“Hi, I’m checking in. I reserved a room online under the name Hayes,” I told her.
Hayes wasn’t my real last name, it was actually my grandfather’s first name, Hayes Thornbridge. I used Mena Hayes as my name when I didn’t want to be identified, like when I was traveling or staying with a pack I wasn’t sure I could trust. Other times I went by sort-of real name, Mena Harlin.
My birth name is Aurelia Philomena Thornbridge Harlin. It’s a mouthful and a name full of history, history I don’t want most people to know about. Since I was a kid I’ve always gone by Mena, short for Philomena. When I was little, my father and grandfather called me Philomena, but by age five I declared my name was too long and hard to pronounce for a five year old, and since then I’ve been Mena. Unless Papa or Aunt Amelia are really upset with me for something.