Mated To An Enemy

It had been a month since Wyatt had officially become just another pack member. Three weeks since he had joined his scouting team.

He felt renewed as he ran through the snow, over the hills, and into the mountains. As he howled out reports and waited for the replies of his fellow scouts.

There was fulfillment in service. One that he hadn't felt for a long time.

His people had loved him, trusted him. And though they would disagree, he knew that he hadn't been of service to them for many years.

Wyatt had spent years drowning in his own guilt and questioning all of the decisions that he or others made. Hoping that somehow being in control of everything would absolve him of the one thing he couldn't have done anything about.

Cain's death had been the most haunting experience of his life.

He was a friend, his best friend. And all this time, he had kept the secret of how he died and kept the truth from his family.

Made Fiona wonder if Cain had been scared, sad, or alone in the end.

Made Caleb feel like his father was ignored and forgotten.

But Wyatt had never forgotten. Cain was with him every single moment of every day.

Whether made for good or ill, the weight of his lies and deceptions did not ease over time. It only grew heavier.

His solution had been to pull away from the people around him, to try and carry his burdens alone. In doing so, he had become rigid and strict. Leaning harder into the roots of Winter, to a time when things felt more straightforward, simpler._.

He was wrong.

It may have been Ashleigh's idea to retire early, but Wyatt had never been more relieved than the day Axel was sworn into the role of Alpha. Though they bumped heads, there were hiccups in the first month or two. But, Wyatt could see how strong Axel had become.

By the time of Ashleigh's wedding, Wyatt was happy to let go of everything that came with being Alpha. His responsibility, his power, none of it mattered to him.

Telling Fiona and Caleb the truth had been what he needed all along. The Goddess had taken his gifts. But in return, she had blessed him with peace of mind and an understanding of his arrogance.

A howl in the distance echoed over the mountains and through the trees.

Wyatt stood from the position he had taken in the snow. The snow accumulated on top of his coat fell as he shook his heavy gray fur. He glanced toward the sound.

It was Mateas.

Another howl went out from another direction, and Wyatt turned.

This time it was Arthur.

A third call went up. Devon.

Three different directions, all calling out their position. It was their way of letting the rest know that the section they were responsible for had been thoroughly searched and was all clear.

Only one wolf left hadn't made the call, signaling that the target was not within their zone. Wyatt.

And he wasn't going to, either.

He had found tracks and caught the scent briefly. His prey was here, he could feel it.

Wyatt moved carefully and silently around the base of the trees, looking everywhere, pausing to listen as he heard a slight change in the atmosphere around him.

He stepped forward and quickly jumped back just as the arrow flew past his snout.

It landed in the snow beside him, leaving a small amount of blue residue.

Wyatt charged toward the tree the arrow had clearly come from.

A small woman jumped down, shifting into a smaller black and grey wolf in midair. She landed on all four paws and immediately ran in the opposite direction as Wyatt.

He gave chase, his larger frame and quicker stride closing the gap between them fairly quickly.

But just as he was about to reach her, she suddenly jumped onto a rock and then, pushing off of it, she moved toward a tree. Again shifting midair into her human form, just in time to grab hold of the lower branch and pull herself up.

Wyatt growled as he stared into the thick branches looking for her movements.

The sound of the branches rustling in the next tree drew his attention, and then he saw the snow falling from the tree, the one beside it, and the next.

The little monkey was hopping from tree to tree.

Wyatt lifted his snout and howled out his position, letting the others know he had found their prey.

He then quickly chased after her.

Three howls replied at varying distances. Mateas was closest.

Wyatt followed the line of falling snow, his eyes continuing to glance up in case she decided to drop down at any moment.

The sound hit his ears first. Wyatt jumped toward the tree just in time to avoid the arrow. But he didn't stop moving, and she didn't stop shooting. Finally, after a seventh shot, she paused, and Wyatt found a safe spot below the trees that kept him from her line of fire.

Wyatt watched the tree with great care. He knew where she was. She hadn't moved. He could almost see her now. His eyes roamed over the battlefield; her sight lines were clear from how the arrows had landed on the ground around him.

He saw an opportunity then.

Behind the tree was a large boulder with a reasonably flat side. Wyatt could use her own play against her. He would be able to scurry up the tree like the monkey that was, but he could very well knock her out of it.

Wyatt charged forward.

Swish!

Swish!

The sound of the arrow streaming by him only pushed him faster. Finally, his goal approached. He leaped into the air and pushed all four paws off the flat surface, launching him toward the tree. He shifted into his human form, a huge and muscular man with weight to throw around. He braced himself as his body hit the side of the tree.

He heard her muffled cry as she fell forward through the branches and landed with a thud in the snow between the trees.

Wyatt charged at her, pulling out his dagger.

The girl lifted her head, a gasp of concern escaped her lips, and then just as quickly, they formed into a smirk.

When she smiled, Wyatt was inches from her, moments away from victory.

“I win,” she whispered.

Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks. He furrowed his brow and saw her arm outstretched. A small crossbow in hand, he followed the trajectory of her arm.

There stood Mateas, staring down at his ribs. A small but evident patch of blue stared back at him from where his heart beat beneath the surface.

Wyatt sighed and then laughed his hearty laugh.

He reached his hand out to her, she took it, and he helped her up.

“Very well played, Penelope,” he said.

The girl lowered the cowl of her practice gear, revealing her ebony hair tied back in two braids. She looked up at him, a bright smile in her cornflower blue eyes.

“I liked that move you pulled at the end,” she said. “Looked familiar.”

Wyatt wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“If you can't learn from your enemy, you'll never be able to win,” he said with a proud smile.

“Damn it, Penelope, I really thought we had you that time,” Mateas sighed.

“He almost did,” she pointed to Wyatt, then looked back at Mateas. “But your stomping through the forest huffing and puffing like a moose during the rutting season made it easy for me.”

Penelope stepped forward and continued to good-naturedly poke fun at their leader. Wyatt couldn't help but feel a swelling of pride at how well she had adapted to the team.

Wyatt was a new member of the scouting party, but Penelope was the latest member.

She was skilled and humble but liked to joke and poke at others. Wyatt remembered her from her childhood. She used to be shy and reserved. He suspected she had adapted her personality to face the conflict she anticipated head-on.

After all, being the sister of a traitor wasn't something anybody let you forget.

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