Page 129 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

Understanding Builds Trust

ALIA

Iwalked down the street, pausing to meet people where they were.

A family had lost their home to a fire. I watched as werewolves helped lift the heavy timber as builders pounded it into place, the family bringing them water and food with smiles and laughter. I had put the peace-loving group known as Pacem in charge of allocating where the magical creatures could best assist.

The leader of the Pacem, known as Pax, had immediately set up a banner in front of their main office—yes, where Iaccidentallyleft the unicorn pelt in my younger days. It read ‘Come, those who need help.’

It was an idea I’d had a while back and had set into place with Mom’s help. The magical creatures could do things none of us humans could, and that made them priceless if we let them be. I was thinking in terms of the best things for my tribe, but it also helped the creatures who came here and had nowhere to return. Many left after they were healed, or I sent my Reds to guide them home. Others, however, had lost their houses or families and were on their own and in need of a place to call home.

I stopped before the shop front and saw a line about twenty people long, some wringing their hands or shifting their feet. Only the desperate asked for help around here. I hoped to change that, but it was what it was for now.

Two Reds held their post beside the poor secretary, who scribbled down the problems and gave them to a runner. The runner would then take it to a committee who would find the best creature willing to help.

I had allocated funds to pay those who helped. Not all wanted to accepted it; most were just grateful to have a place that accepted them after years alone. I’d insisted, seeing as they needed to find a way to buy food and a place to live after they left the Matriarch’s Tent. Ultimately, they were helping the community and saving lives, andthatwas priceless.

Later, I would need to impose some rules to keep everything fair to those who helped and to keep the strongest from strong-arming their way into the best-paying jobs, but until problems arose, I would let them police themselves.

So far, a werewolf had helped safely find a missing child who was lost in the woods; an orphanage near a river on the east side of town had flooded and the dryad helped send the water back to where it belonged; and a mage had helped find a man trapped in a mine.

The people were turning. Most even stopped to bow to me as I walked down the street, their smiles bright and their eyes filled with cheer. It warmed my soul.

I paused at the front of the line beside a woman in a green cloak who was watching with her arms crossed.

“How is it going?” I asked her. She turned dark eyes on me, her skin the color of warm coffee with cream. I was taken back to a time when her husband had saved my life at the cost of his own. My heart turned painfully in my chest. Her eyes narrowed as if she, too, were thinking of sad times.

I had been the one to bring back her husband’s cloak, and she’d told me to ensure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

I hoped, at long last, that I had made him proud.

“It is going. There is much yet to be done. We have developed a code of needs for the slips: red for emergencies, green for those who will survive a few hours without help, and a bit of everything in between.” She stared at the people, her eyes warm with compassion. “Nevertheless, some we do not help in time.”

I closed my eyes and bowed my head as the little sphinx baby we’d lost came to mind. “I understand,” I said. A moment of silence passed as we were lost in our own thoughts. “Do you need anything further from me?”

She turned to face me straight on, arms crossed. “Stop hunting animals.”

I took a deep breath, trying to push back my annoyance that flared.Ask a question, don’t get into an argument,I coached myself. “Can you tell me why you ask for this?”

She blinked, as if that took her by surprise. Her crossed arms relaxed a bit. “There are so many innocent animals losing their lives day to day. They do not deserve to be skewered just so we guilty humans can live.”

A sad smile crossed my lips. “You were once a Red,” I said at last.

I felt herneed.It was one I had felt in many of my current Reds, but it was deeper as if the shame had followed her for much longer. It was aneedto know she was in the right place, doing the right thing. She had much to atone for and was doing her best to do so.

“Do not worry, Miss Pax. I will not force anyone to fight who does not wish to. My duty is not to enforce what I believe is right, but to empower the people to fight for what they know is right.”

“So who makes the rules of what is right and wrong?”

A grin crossed my face. Her frown deepened into a scowl as I chuckled. I held up a hand before she could open her mouth to curse me out for laughing at her. “I am sorry, it is just that I am definitely not wise enough yet to determine right from wrong. Just yesterday I nearly skewered my best doctor because he startled me. No, right and wrong are determined by Source, and I work to uphold those laws and no others.”

“And if I do not believe in Source?”

“Then by what authority do you create your own laws?”

She opened and closed her mouth.

“Exactly. There must be a baseline for morals, or else we run wild with our own, which is often wrong as our baseline of understanding often skews them. So unless there comes a time where I find out something different, then I will follow Source’s rules and the Book of the Reds.”

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