42. Waiting for the Impossible

Laura - The meeting grounds
I'm still hiding behind the bushes, unwilling to move because I don't want to be seen.
I was scared that I wouldn't be able to tell which one was Paul since the coats of all the wolves are mostly the same. But no one else has such a gleaming silver mane that glistens beneath the full moon.
Alin's fur is darker, nearly blending in with the darkness. I could have missed his initial strike if it hadn't been for my heightened night vision. He lunges for Paul, his teeth gnashing in the air, saliva streaming from the sharp canine as he bites the emptiness.
Startled, I almost jump to my feet. But when I see that Paul is holding his own, I calm down. He has avoided that first blow; he moves faster than I thought possible. Now he’s waiting for Alin’s next move.
Two pairs of gleaming golden eyes battle in a war of staring. No one moves to intervene. If someone makes a challenge, the fight needs to be fair. And Paul will never ask for help, as that would be beneath him. I know at least that much about what it means to be an alpha. I've never felt the bond between the wolves, but I have ears to hear the stories.
When Alin comes for him again, Paul doesn’t evade the attack this time. They collide in a flurry of snarls and teeth, each trying to bite the other's neck. Paul seems to be holding back because he doesn't want to really hurt his opponent.
I can't tell who is winning. Both combatants seem equally matched, and I have no idea where to look for a clear advantage. Maybe I should try to guess how many times they will strike each other before one of them gives up. Or maybe at some point, Paul will decide to fight.
At the same time, they disengage, stepping back, snarling, and showing their blood-stained teeth. They both freeze, growling. The motionless picture changes when Alin charges again, fueled by his unstoppable desire to win.
Their bodies tangle as their sharp fangs, bare under the moonlight, seek the other’s flesh. They roll over, switching who gets on top. When Alin reaches over Paul, he changes tactics, and instead of going for the neck, he turns and bites him lower, on the shoulder.
That throws Paul on his side, screeching painfully with a limb in the air. He howls in pain, and the sound echoes through the forest. But Alin only bites deeper, sinking his teeth into Paul's leg. I can't let that happen. Letting fear get the best of me, I lunge out of the bushes.
“Stop this right now!” I demand, my voice trembling with both anger and fear.
All the wolves turn their attention toward me, Alin included. He growls as his eyes narrow, and he prepares for attack. Before I realize what’s happening, he charges toward me. If he bites me, he’ll go rabid and Paul would have to kill him. I can’t allow that to happen.
I turn around and dash as fast as I can back toward the forest. But a heartbreaking whine comes from behind me. Shivering, I stop by the next tree to peek back. Paul is up on three legs, his front left one bent to not touch the ground. He’s holding Alin’s ear between his teeth and doesn’t seem like he’s going to let go.
Alin's cry sweeps the clearing as his body slowly surrenders, and he lowers himself to the grass in submission. The other wolves begin to howl in approval of the alpha's victory.
Letting go of his opponent’s ear, Paul’s wolf looks at me. His eyes sparkle with golden twinkles under the full moon, the disappointment at my disobedience evident. Will he ever understand that I’m not the one to follow rules or orders? Curiosity ignites so rarely in an old soul. How can I smother one of the few things that make me feel alive?
I slide down with my back leaning against the tree, the rough bark stiffly scraping my spine. He gives me one last judgy look before running into the forest. They all follow him, even Alin, who’s still whining.
The wait until dawn seems centuries long. I have no idea what to expect. He'll most likely simply remark, "You have no place here. Leave at once!" or "I'm your alpha, and you must obey me," which will most likely be followed by "Leave now!" So why should I wait till morning? To see his disappointment and rage? That's something I can visualize on my own.
I'm too preoccupied with my internal conflict about remaining or going to notice when the moon sets over the mountain ridges. I decide to get going. As I rise on my feet and turn around, I brush against Paul's bare chest. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn't even notice his heartbeat.
Blood covers his left arm. He sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but I take the lead.
“Does it hurt?”
"Not anymore. It will heal in a day or two." He keeps me in place with his hand gripping my shoulder. "It's like you are trying to ruin everything I have achieved. You threaten the peace among the supernatural beings, the accord, and the mood of my pack members. All I want is for you to—"
“I know, I know. My place isn’t here. I’ll leave now.” I yank my shoulder out of his grasp.
"You'll need more than a half-day on foot," Paul replies, his voice as rigid as his rules.
“It’s fine. I don’t get tired.”
I pass by him and march between the trees toward the main road.
“Laura!”
His voice is filled with a mix of sorrow and desire that almost makes me stop. My breathing hitches. No one has ever said my name better. Why does my name suddenly sound like water to a thirsty man? Even if his feelings were to transpire into this single word, the rules would still govern over him, not his emotions. So I don’t look back.

Bloody Full Moon
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