Page 86 of Oath of Revenge

He accepted their fealty, but assigned them to shit duty for the entire camp for the next month.

Sasha came up to the table and smiled shyly at Scarlet. She waved to the rather round woman behind her in the soft doe-skin dress.

“This is my mam. I wanted to introduce you, and let you know that I dropped your pack inside the alpha’s tent.” She bobbed a crude curtsy with one fist to her chest, then backed away.

The woman eyed Scarlet, making her spine straighten. Then her pinched lips softened and wobbled slightly. She leaned over the table, and Scarlet leaned forward. Wulfric frowned and tensed beside her, but Scarlet simply took his hand and squeezed.

“I’m grateful to you. My girl should’ve been at home where she belonged, and it was within your right to—to…” She trailed off, pursing her lips once more.

Now that everyone wasn’t staring at her, now that she was one on one, she found her voice.

Scarlet sighed, her own lips softening and she whispered, “It’s alright. I’m glad she was the one I met. The goddess must’ve sent her there for a reason.”

“I’m glad too, Luna. Me too.” She likewise bobbed a shallow curtsy with fist on chest and stepped aside for the next person in line to speak with them.

Scarlet leaned over to Wulfric to ask, “Luna?”

He grinned and nipped at her neck, just below her ear. “Alpha’s mate and queen.” She blushed and leaned back as the next person stepped up to talk to him.

Hours later, dusk was falling and the moon rose as Wulfric led her past the central fire pit where they’d fought Brody the night before. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow like a gentleman. She’d seen lords escort ladies at balls like this, when she’d snuck in for a kill. It sent a thrill through her that he treated her with such reverence. They explored the rest of the camp, and she kept pinching herself in a reminder that this was real. Not just him and how he treated her, but this village.

Instead of the bloodthirsty savages she’d expected, the werewolf camp bustled with... domesticity. On the other side of the tents, fluffy white sheep grazed peacefully in fenced pastures, werewolves in human form using pitchforks to toss hay off a cart.

“What the hell is this?” The surprise in her voice made it higher than normal.

Wulfric chuckled at her shock and patted her hand. “Surprised, bunny? I told you we’re not the monsters your grandmother warned you about.”

“But... but you eat people,” Scarlet muttered.

He rolled his eyes. “More so in the old tales than in modern times. These days, we prefer mutton. Less screaming, more wool sweaters. Besides, we only attack people who step into our territory. Those deaths or turnings are entirely justified.”

Now she was the one to roll her eyes, but she didn’t argue with him. She’d often used such logic with her own mercenary assassinations.

Scarlet’s mind reeled as she tried to reconcile this bizarre reality of Growlers with everything she thought she knew. The fearsome werewolves... were sheep farmers? It was too absurd.

“And you pack all this up to move every few months?”

He nodded, “Everything except the longhouse. We have three primary locations and two secondary ones per each of the five tribes. We move based on seasons, hunting availability, and livestock rotations so we never deplete the land’s resources. It’s been getting leaner with each year though.”

“Because the population is growing so much?” She’d deduced as much from the conversations in the longhouse.

He led her around the perimeter of the sheep pens. “Yes, when the Busparian king withdrew from the war with Glathen, we watched the Southern Road and saved as many of those they left to die as possible. But we were already maxed on our resources by then. The past year, we’ve spent so much time trying to stretch every last resource.”

“But sheep?” Her voice was still high with incredulity.

He chuckled. “We’re tied to each camp long enough to cultivate feed, but the livestock is the only way we’re able to survive the harsh winters. All the wild animals hole up or hibernate, and it’s tough to hunt when we’re all freezing our balls off too.”

She chuckled as they left the pens, passed the chicken coops, and went back around the tents. The joyous chaos around her increased as the full moon crested the trees, the Growlers nearly vibrating with energy. Wolves and humans alike raced by them, laughing and chasing each other. Even the kids who weren’t able to shift yet were awake and giddy, just waiting for the full moon to rise fully.

He rubbed his jaw and said, “Every year, there’s a debate about cutting down our seasonal moves and staying in one spot longer. Perhaps now it’s time to encourage that. Put down roots. Would you like a house or a home base for your Hunter work?”

She frowned and looked to the ground as the sun set through the trees. Her stomach twisted at his words. She hadn’t realized how much his announcement in the longhouse had bothered her.

She blew out a breath slowly. “I don’t like how you just said that in front of everyone.”

“Is that why you were upset with me in the meeting,” he asked softly, tensing under her hand.

She nodded, watching more kids kick a leather ball. “You said I was going to stay here when you know very well I have no intention of it.”

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