Page 163 of Untamed

"I'm not entirely sure," the pale witch admits. "I was young. I just... I knew she was evil. Power was being pulled here. Forces that don't belong in this territory were being summoned."

"What happened to her?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I feel the Forest shift, the flames soar. Retribution. Evil can be purged with flame and blood.

The pale witch bares her teeth in a simile of a smile. "I made a deal with a wolf. He killed her. She needed killing. You two know all about that."

She is like me. Me with eyes of pale grey and hair as white as snow. She knows. She feels Nature as I do. Too bad she has to deal with the Lake. Too bad Rooster is her mate. I watch him move closer to her, entwining his hand with hers.

I still have to ask. "You love your scrawny Rooster?" Mactiir's hand tightens on mine.

"You love your giant mammoth?" she shoots back.

"Mactiir is strong and handsome."

Her eyes narrow. "Diego is sexy and beautiful."

"Thanks, ladies," Rooster says wryly. Some of the tension in the air breaks.

I think I like her.

"You're an anomaly," the pale witch muses as she looks me over. "A pure-bred wolf who should belong to the Moon, but instead is firmly entrenched in Nature. Who would have predicted this?" she says softly as if to herself. She shakes her head. "Nature has her ways. I suppose that's why she gave you a TrueBorn as a mate."

I glance up at Mactiir. His eyes are poisonous walnut shells, glaring at the pale witch. His jaw is set, not one muscle twitching. His monster is waiting, assessing the danger from the pale witch.

I feel a slight uneasiness. I am a oddity. I am like this pale creature, a little bit. So, why does Mactiir love me so much?

He turns his head, and the poison in his eyes fades back to walnut pie. "Never doubt my love for you," he says softly, for my ears only.

I smile up at him reassuringly.

"Your birth threw him for a loop," the pale witch points to my false-father. "He is... evil, too. I... well, let me show you."

Feet crunch over leaves, just a whisper of sound, but we all hold our breath.

A tiny female slides out of the trees next to the Lake. She seems to quail under the regard of so many wolves staring at her. Unlike the pale witch, her shoulders curl inward, her head bows. I sense her wolf, weak and unsure. More fearful than any forest creature I have ever encountered. Curiosity makes my feet take a small step forward. I don't get very far before my Ogre pulls me back to his side.

"Who are you?" Old Alpha steps forward, concern on his face.

The fragile she-wolf doesn't answer, so the pale witch does for her.

"This is his truemate," she points at my false-father in disgust. "He told our former coven leader to break the mate bond between them and then kill her."

My falso-father opens his eyes. Hatred blazes when he lays his eyes on the tiny female. Snarls fill the air, jaws, and teeth snapping as the wolves react to his silent threat to the tiny wolf.

"So, the rumors of an Omega mate are true?" Old Alpha asks the pale witch. "I heard of this. Fuck me. It must have been years and years ago."

To my surprise, the tiny female answers. "Over twenty years. Just about twenty years, actually. The witch who abducted me, Ryllis, saved me to use against him in the future. Not of kindness, she was terrible. Then, she was killed. Thank goodness."

"You didn't know she was still alive, did you?" Gnome asks my false-father gleefully. "Now I guessshegets to killyou, you pathetic fucker. Ha! Willa, good job, you adorable little Youngling."

"How could he?" Mactiir asks under his breath. "Orion was right. How are all of these alphas rejecting their truemates?"

"You were born, and that was it," the tiny she-wolf says simply to Mactiir. "It's not your fault. It was never your fault, but Kyle couldn't... he wouldn't accept me as his mate. Not with the fear that I would never birth a true alpha pup. He arranged your parent's faux mating, did you know? Then, you were born. That's nearly impossible, you know. To even have a healthy child from a non-truly-mated pairing. And there you were, anyway," she blathers on as I try to understand. "It ruined his plans."

"You are his truemate," Old Alpha snaps out. "Your pups would have naturally been alpha. That's the way it works."

"Not always," she shrugs, looking helpless. "Sometimes... sometimes the balance that must be struck means that one generation is weaker than the next. It's the way of Nature."

"Everything was becoming unbalanced." The pale witch interjects. "We scryed and scryed for answers." She snorts, "Fortune-telling is not a specific science. It looked so hopeless. A TrueBorn usually has a weak mate. Did you know that? A wolf who isn't quite as strong as other females." Those stone-cold eyes turn to me. "Then... then you were born. I saw it," her eyes go distant and fade until the grey irises seem to disappear into nothing. "You are not weak, Willa Rivers. The night you were born, the moon went dark."

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