IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy
Chapter 17

Axel

“AGAIN!” I ordered, sweat dripping from my brow.

The men were equally drenched and puffing as they fought in groups of three. It was almost lunchtime and we had trained the entire morning only stopping for small intervals to catch our breaths and gulp down water. Endurance, strength and agility. All the essential areas which I needed to cover with these men every single training session. It was how I had been brought up and how I had developed into the warrior I was today.

He lunged at me again, the black rubber dagger cutting through the air in quick precise jabs. With my splinted hand tucked securely into my stomach, I ducked, veered and successfully evaded his attack. My legs stepping back, his feet moving forward. An age-old dance of rivalry.

“GOOD, LEFT!” I yelled, and he turned abruptly to his left. Feet steady, muscles tight.

One, two, three, a new attacker lunged at him. Elbows and forearms connecting to fists in swift and deadly accuracy.

“MOVE! PICK UP YOUR FEET!” I shouted as the new assailant landed a heavy punch to his side.

A low guttural groan reverberated from his chest. He doubled over for a split second, but steadied and rammed himself, shoulder first into his attacker.

The rest of the men were snickering in pure delight as Jarryd and the other warrior fell forcefully onto the sandy arena floor with clouds of dust bursting up around them.

“That’s enough,” I stated and sauntered away, wiping my brow with the back of my hand and grabbing a bottle of water from the tray a she-wolf had set down earlier.

Jarryd was heaving, both in anger and exhilaration but he was under my command and got up the moment I ordered him to stop pummelling his assailant. Once he straightened, he held his hand out for the other warrior, who accepted it immediately and was pulled up in one swift move.

The warrior dusted himself off, while Jarryd rolled his shoulders and neck, sweat glistening in the sun.

“Well, looks like you boys are having fun,” the voice came from the arena’s entrance. John. He was leaning against one of the walls and slowly began to make his way towards us. All heads turned to survey him.

He looked as smooth and well-groomed as ever. Hair perfectly in place, muscles bulging underneath his crisp clean clothes.

“Shit,” I heard Jarryd curse under his breath, turning away as if to hide his face from the Beta.

“I am afraid you missed most of it, we are just about done for the day,” I replied and took another large sip of water from the bottle.

“That’s a shame,” he said, grinning like a wolf and eyeing the dusty, tired group of warriors, “but it’s not exactly the reason I am here.”

I lowered the bottle from my mouth and waited for him to continue. Having learnt from my father and brother, I pulled my face and features into a mask of power, dominance and confidence, showing only strength and no emotion as he stepped forward. The appearance of a true Alpha.

“So?” I dared, unconsciously tucking my injured hand deeper into my stomach, but squaring my shoulders.

“I have a very important meeting that just came up, so, unfortunately, I will not be able to make my border patrol today.”

My eyes burned into his as he spoke. Neither one of us looking away. A silent fight for dominance.

“Jarryd, you can handle my patrol, right?”

I did not look away until the Beta did so first, both of us turning to face Jarryd. He was still panting and sweating. Utterly exhausted.

Jarryd flicked his eyes towards me for a second, but answered, “yes, Beta.”

John had a wicked grin on his face as he stared at Jarryd. It was cruel. Cruel to ask such a task of a warrior who had just finished six hours of high endurance training.

“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice gruff and low.

The Beta snapped his face towards me and looked truly taken aback, as did most of the warriors I had been training with.

“Oh-uh, actually, you are attending the meeting.”

My veins heated in anger, but I didn’t dare show it on my face.

I scanned Jarryd over again. Our eyes only meeting briefly before he turned and emptied his bottle of water over his sweat-soaked, brown hair, which now hung in loose strands over his forehead.

The sun was beating down on us harshly and we all knew what lay ahead of him. Miles and miles of outstretched land, which needed to be run around. The border, which stretched around Dire Mountain’s vast rocky territory, needed to be taken in wolf form. It needed a wolf’s nose for smelling, paws for trotting, sharp eyesight and sensitive ears for searching. A wolf with the heart of a warrior to detect danger and notify the pack of any threats.

Jarryd’s green eyes flared, and his jaw tightened as he glanced at the Beta one last time before turning away. We watched in silence as he ripped his drenched shirt over his head and undressed, throwing his clothes uncaringly onto a smelly wet pile, dust once again puffing up around it. Within seconds he had changed into a large charcoal beast.

He shook out his fur and spared us one last glance over the shoulder, before sprinting off to fulfil his warrior duties.

John was also watching him sprint away, but unlike the rest of us, he had an arrogant, sly grin on his handsome smug face.

“DISMISSED,” I ordered and one by one the warriors left. Some had also taken their shirts off, some were grumbling under their breaths and handing out water bottles, but all of them looked solemn. They felt the unfairness of the situation in their blood as much as I did, but what could be done?

He was their Beta and they had to obey his orders.

Besides, I was considered a mere guest, with no connection to this pack. Therefore, other than in the arena, my word had no weight. I had no authority.