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~ 19 ~

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The drumbeat sounded slow and steady. The Hunter’s Moon, full and bright, shone down, its silver light melding with the dancing flames of the ritual bonfire. It leapt and swirled, casting ragged shadows on the cave’s wall, jerking them around like broken marionettes. A larger shadow loomed among them as a masked figure painted completely from head to toe in ceremonial markings approached the fire. He approached with slow, easy paces, keeping time with the drums rhythm. His gray fur rippled and shone, as if stars were woven into his skin. The firelight glinted off his silver Celtic cross around his neck, a rare sparkling jewel among the other, more crudely fashioned ornaments that adorned his head, chest, shoulders and waist. His blue tipped anthro ears were pricked forward, his head high and blue eyes unwavering as he stared into the inferno. He was the perfect picture of confidence.
Reaching out a hand, he grasped a hollowed horn from its skeletal holder next to where he stood, and as he had been taught, carefully extracted a pinch of the fine powder from inside and cast it over the flames, standing strong and holding his ground as the fire whipped around him, engulfing him in a fiery case. Oddly, it did not burn him, but rather filled him with warmth as it seeped through his skin. With a burst of sound, voices from ages past rang out, singing in his ears. It was and indecipherable, delicate murmur, lasting for what seemed like decades. But presently, he was startled by a clear voice ringing through his head.
Do it.
What?
Do it. Tonight.
I don’t underst…
DO IT. TONIGHT.
He gasped as hot wind blew right in his face. A great roar from the fiery wind nearly deafened him, as the fair spirit left him.
Do it. Tonight.
With his, the flames crackled and died back to normal again, leaving the bewildered wolf with more questions than answers.
A drumbeat started up again, leaving him no choice but to abandon his thoughts for now. Whatever the Spirit had read for him, and was instructing him to do would have to wait. He could only hope it would be clearer with time. He straightened again, fists clenching at his sides as he watched more shadows lurking stealthily on the walls. There, he watched through the flames as two hooded figures were brought out. Tied crudely to the cave wall, the two slumped, motionless. He looked around. This wasn’t normally part of the Ceremonies…
Congratulations, Storm.
Storm whipped around, startled by the sudden greeting. There stood Shadow, also bedecked in his Ceremonial ornamentations. He stood with careless grace, his lip curled in a permanent, haughty sneer.
Congratulations! You’ve made it to your Ceremony! Passing through the Flames is a test of your will, and mental aptitude. A very important ritual, as I’m sure you understand. A Pack member must be able to think and feel as the rest do, for they move as One. Shadow took another step closer, moving to stand at Storm’s side, and be at the center of the Pack’s attention.
But as you may also know, he continued, Terrible events have been happening as of late. Beasts of a hellish nature have been thrust into our midst. They pose a threat not only to our well being as individuals, but a Pack as well. So in order to prepare our young Pups as they enter into the Pack, another ritual has been added, to further test them, but this time, a show of strength, physically and mentally. He stepped aside, gesturing to the two hooded, shrouded figures against the wall.
We must know that you are willing to make this sacrifice, and to take the Pack’s greater good into account, over your own feelings. As he was speaking, Shadow slowly, and grandeurly made his way around the fire, approaching the hooded figures with great show. As the word ‘feelings’ echoed through the cave, he ripped off the hoods, exposing the two sacrifices to the crowd.
A gasp of disbelief and dissent rippled through the crowd, rising in volume as more started discussing what lay before them. Shadow sat back and watched for a few minutes, pleased with the chaos he had began. Storm shook his head, mouth open and eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
You…you can’t honestly mean…? He started, but Shadow whirled to face him, silencing him with a heavy glare.
Don’t you dare try to shirk your duties! Shadow snapped, getting as close to Storm as he dared. You must continue on!
Do you know who that is? Do you? Of course not… allow me to clarify… THAT’S. MY. SISTER! With and enraged snarl, Storm pointed furiously towards Jiro, chained, bleeding and still unconscious from her multiple wounds. Shadow seemed indifferent to his unease, and calmly kept eye contact, even as red flooded into Storms icy blue eyes.
You will do it; Shadow said slowly, words hissing through tightly locked teeth. Now go. Storm stood, frozen. In his hands, a blood red dagger was thrust. The hilt was slightly worn leather, dyed red to match the glittering rubies that encrusted the hilt. His head shook slowly as recognition dawned on him.
They were going to make him sacrifice… no, slaughter his sister, just to join this stupid pack of mutts?
And with the True Alpha’s dagger no less.

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Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Distant rhythms pounded in Jiro’s head, its sound muffled and fuzzy, but there all the same. Cold… she was so cold. She couldn’t even feel the rope digging into her anymore, nor could she feel the stinging whiplashes. All of it was numb. Numb and cold.
But something brought her around again, a pair of angry voices, just nearby, hissing and snarling at one another. Male voices.
Who…? Who is that…?
She struggled to open her eyes. Slowly, her blurry vision sharpened, focusing in on two males in their anthro form, arguing quite loudly.
St-Storm? She asked feebly. His red tinted eyes pierced her with a feverishly angered glow, but quickly faded to normal color as he registered who was addressing him. Turning away from Shadow, he squatted down to talk to her, keeping his voice low and soothing.
Yeah, it’s me.
Storm?
Yeah?
What’s… what’s going on?
Storm winced. He had half been expecting this question, but how on earth was he supposed to respond? But as he tried to figure out what to say, she caught him with another question.
How did you get my dagger?
His eyes widened, flicking from the knife, to her and back a few times.
Y-your dagger?
Yeah. That’s mine. My mother gave it to me. She told me it used to be my father’s…she paused, looking up at him. Noting his terrified expression, she grew steadily alarmed.
What? What’s wrong? She asked, starting to struggle to regain her footing and prop herself up.
But this is… this is the True Alpha’s! How can it be yours? But no sooner had this thought past his mind than another followed it closely.
You’re the True Alpha’s daughter?
It all made sense now, clicking the pieces together in his brain. Jiro’s sudden disappearance, Shadow and his triumphant return, the Law changes, the Patrols, the searches… it had all been a plot to secure himself power to further feed his tyrannical reign.
Do it. Tonight.
Once again, the thought was there, nagging and picking at his brain.
Do it. Tonight.
But what does it mean?
Do it. Tonight!
Do it. Tonight.
Storm stood, jaw set and shoulders squared. Do it. Tonight.
He stood, raising the dagger above his head, displaying it for all to see. His face was grim, but firm. He knew what he had to do. It was time to set his plan in motion.
Do it. Tonight.
Storm stepped towards Shadow, dipping his head low, in a sign of respect.
Sir, if I may speak…? He asked quietly, ignoring the feeling of loathing churning in his stomach. Shadow nodded, a look of surprised pride on his face at the sudden change of attitude.
You may have your reasons for picking two… sacrifices… but wouldn’t one do just as sufficiently? Let the male go. He has no use here. He is merely a human, defenseless and ignorant. What show of strength is needed for his… disposal? Allow me to let him go, and I will … sacrifice… the other.
Shadows look of astonishment deepened, but he did not fight it.
Well spoken, and happily met! I would be honored to have such a sharp mind join my Pack. Very well, you may release him, and only him. I will have him escorted to the Borders. Shadow waved to two of his sentries, motioning for them to stand, ready to receive the prisoner. Storm walked up, dagger in hand. His head felt light and fluttery as adrenaline pumped through him, his heart hammering double-time. If every step of this doesn’t work out as planned… he squelched the though before it could finish forming. No. He needed to think about the plan. It would work; he just needed to keep his wits about him…
Do it. Tonight.
He squatted on his haunches next to Haru, sawing at the ropes that bound him. To everyone who was watching, all he was doing was releasing him. But all the while, he was quietly filling Haru in, telling him exactly what to do.

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Jiro looked over at Haru and Storm, panic rising and causing her already strained heart to flutter.
Storm? Storm? What are you…? A snap of severed rope cut her off. Haru was picked up and silently escorted from the cave, the sentries standing on either side and taking a firm grip of one of his arms, close to his shoulder. Jiro’s wide mismatched eyes flicked from Haru and the sentries, over to Storm, who shifted his position until he was crouched before her now. The dagger glinted brightly, even in the dim light. But Storm’s eyes were softer now, a curious combination of happiness and relief sparkling through them. Gripping the dagger firmly, he leaned in close, whispering in her ear.
I know how much he means to you sis, Storm whispered in her ear, feeling his heart tighten. Showing his fangs and growling menacingly, he stood, sauntering smugly around the place she was tied to, making a big show of being intimidating. But the look in his eyes…
Who needs this pack anyway?
Taking the rope cutting across her chest in his teeth, he growled loudly. But still, his eyes held no angry light. In fact they looked strangely apologetic…
And with a swift tug, the rope snapped free, and in a lightning swift second, so were the ones bindinow g her waist, wrists and ankles.
Now RUN!
No sooner was she on her paws once more than she did as she was told, running off. But she had just enough time to hear Storm shouting at Shadow, and all hell broke loose.
Eat droppings and die! You’re the worst leader a Pack could ever have! You’re not even worthy to be called a leader you scum! So keep your group of mutts, this gaggle of geese isn’t even worthy to bear the title of a True Pack!
The last sound that Jiro heard was the patter of Storm’s feet as he scampered up beside her, matching her stride for stride, and the sound of Shadow’s infuriated howl, echoing like a murderous wraith through the darkened trees.