—ZORYN—
Roan hands me a thunderboar skewer and for a blissful moment, the world is perfect. As soon as it hits my tongue and the savory flavors burst into my mouth, my identity crisis, my heat, all the people staring at me, melt away. I'm at peace with the world. Food really is the cure for everything—and I must say, the meat prepared at these food stalls is phenomenal.
Unfortunately, my happiness is short-lived, because that stupid fucking wolf, Ashen, decides to open his mouth.
"Hey, uh—" he starts, when he realizes he doesn't actually know my name. He glances at me and Roan expectantly.
"You're still here?" I groan, my mouth half-full of skewers.
Roan gives him an exasperated look, "His– uh, her name is Zoryn."
"Right, Zoryn. You really shouldn't be out in the open," he says, his voice low. I think he might be doing some alpha-wolf posturing, but he isn't even a real Alpha. I'd be able to smell if he was. He's a beta, from what I can tell—a relatively powerful one, but a beta nonetheless. He continues, "A woman in your condition should—"
Stay hidden. Stay quiet. Stay protected. I can hear every unspoken word in that patronizing tone.
So I punch him. Naturally.
Not a delicate, offended slap. Not a warning tap.
I give him a full, shoulder-driven punch straight to his jaw.
A crack echoes in the tent, and I hear people gasping all around me. Ashen staggers back two full steps, eyes wide, pupils contracting sharply. He touches his jaw like he can't believe it's still attached—which it is only barely.
Ashen's wolf is practically pressed against his skin, hackles up, but there's no anger in his eyes. Just pure, frozen confusion—like his instincts can't decide whether to snarl or sit.
The blood in Roan's face drains completely, and he looks absolutely mortified—the lion, Riven, on the other hand, is laughing his ass off. I think I'm starting to like him.
Ashen blinks at me. "You… you hit me." His voice is stunned.
"And I'll do it again," I growl, lifting my fist for round two.
He actually recoils, partially from fear but mostly because he's confused. "But– why?"
"Because you're pissing me OFF!" I shout. "I'm hungry, my body betrayed me, I have everyone's attention, and YOU–" I jab my finger into his chest "–keep lecturing me about safety like I'm a helpless pup!"
He opens his mouth again, but I will not be having any of it, so I point my finger in his face, "Try phrasing a single sentence today without being condescending. Go on. I dare you."
I wait a moment before removing my hand, but his lips stay shut. I get back to eating my meat skewer like I didn't just punch the shit out of some wolf warrior that thinks he's a hotshot.
"She hits hard. That punch looked like it hurt," Riven muses to Ashen.
"It did," Ashen answers quietly, still rubbing his jaw. He sounds… bewildered, and maybe a little offended.
"That's what you get, asshole," I grumble.
Everyone's probably watching me again, but I don't even notice, because Roan hands me an avian honeycake and my mouth waters on sight.
"Ashen is his pack's head warrior. People don't usually hit him…" Roan whispers to me, concerned.
"People should try it more," I say. "It feels great. I definitely recommend it."
Riven snorts, "I think I'll give it a shot next."
Ashen shoots him a glare, but he turns his attention back to me. He shifts awkwardly, "You're…" his voice trails off for a moment, "...You're very unusual."
"Buddy, I found out I'm a girl five hours ago. Unusual doesn't cut it," I snap. "Now keep your mouth shut or I'll make you."
He blinks again. I can practically see the gears in his head turning; it's like I am watching his brain malfunction in real time. Fortunately, he seems to heed my words, because he doesn't talk again. I'm able to sit and eat in peace—thank the gods.
After fifteen minutes of cherished eating time, I'm finally finished. My stomach is slightly bloated, but my brain is at ease.
I can think more clearly now, which is both a good and bad thing. Good because it's vital I start thinking critically about my situation, bad because I realize that I broke one of the cardinal rules of the Moonfall Gathering—punching the shit out of someone, especially one from another tribe, is terribly against the code of conduct.
Last time someone threw a punch at the Gathering, trade froze for a whole year and two elders nearly dueled to the death over "lost honor."
So, you know. Minor problem.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Damn it!
It isn't my fault that that stupid wolf is so annoying. He deserved to be hit!
Hopefully I can find a way to talk my way out of it… or maybe I can get a pass because I'm a girl? I'll have to try and milk this whole 'being a breedable woman' thing for all it's worth.
As I'm falling down a rabbit hole of possibilities, I feel a slight burning on my hip, and a warmth at the edge of my senses.
…It has to be Ren.
Then, I hear voices outside.
"Woah! It's Young Lord Zarenien!"
"Holy shit, those wings are beautiful."
"Isn't that the guy who whisked away our new princess earlier?"
"He's with Lord Daeleon!"
He's with dad?!
I immediately stand from the table to walk out, and my newfound entourage follows shortly behind. When I step out of the food stall, I see my dad and Ren sitting together on a bench. Ren looks tense and dad is… soothing him?
As soon as they see me, dad gives a single nod of greeting and Ren heaves a visible sigh of relief. I walk over to them, "So… Do you guys just hang out for fun?"
Dad glances askance at Ren and shakes his head with disapproval, "No, I went to pay him a visit to discuss…" he glances at my hip for a moment, "important matters, but he ended up rushing back because he thought you were fighting."
"...Fighting?" I echo, confused. Did I get into a fight? You can hardly call what happened with Ashen a fight. That was a baby argument!
"She decked the Silverwind Pack beta in the jaw," Roan says with a shrug. He looks back for a moment, "Didn't she, Ashen?"
Ashen bristles where he's standing (now a very respectful distance away) and growls. He rubs his jaw, "...Yeah."
Dad gives me a hard look, "You know where we are, right?"
"He was being an ass!" I lament. "I didn't mean to cause problems at the festival…"
"It was my bad," Ashen says, surprising everyone. Riven's eyes widen in complete shock, and he stares at the wolf with disbelief. The handful of onlookers are surprised, too.
"A beastwoman awakens and Ashen Bloodfang says something apology-adjacent in the same day?" someone says haughtily. When I look over, it's the serpent from earlier! "Maybe we've entered an alternate universe."
"Shut the hell up, Sylas," Ashen warns, another growl threatening to leave his chest.
So the snake's name is Sylas… I tuck that name away in the part of my brain labeled "future problems."
"Down, boy," Sylas replies with a shrug. "It was only an observation."
"I'll speak with the elders," dad announces. He stands from the bench and glances at every single person in the vicinity, making direct, threatening eye contact with each of them before disappearing into gold smoke.
That was enough to make the innocent bystanders leave. Unfortunately, the guilty bystanders were still here.
I don't care at the moment, though. Instead of addressing Ashen and Riven, I turn to Ren, who has stayed silent through this whole ordeal. "So you came because you were worried about me? How did you know I hit someone, anyway?"
Ren purses his lips, his vibrant violet eyes thinning into slits as he looks at me. His gaze flicks down to my side the way dad's did earlier, silently informing me that the mark is why he could sense it. He chooses his words carefully, "...I wasn't really worried you'd get hurt, I know how strong you are. I just wanted to be nearby."
"My Zoryn has never lost a sparring match," Roan nods from a few steps behind me. "Not since he– uh, she was seven."
Ren's brows furrow at Roan's words, but he speaks evenly, "I'd expect nothing less."
"So are you going to run away again, or what?" I cross my arms.
The dragon's lips part uncomfortably, lost for words, but he eventually manages, "...No, but I don't want to bother you by following you around like a lost cub." When he says that, he glances back at Roan, Orien (who immediately averts his gaze with a shiver), Ashen and Riven.
I stare at him intently for a while. I can tell he doesn't have bad intentions, and now that he mentioned it, I can feel some sort of hum of emotion between us, more than just sensing his aura when he's nearby. And… I feel less wired with him around. My heat-mark quiets, like his presence is a hand pressed over a too-loud drum.
If I were being honest with myself, I'd tell him he can hang out with me, too, but my pride could never. So, instead, I say, "Do whatever you want."
Ren's expression twitches, and his aura becomes complicated, but he just nods. "Okay."
"Um… the fire show starts soon," Orien speaks up softly. "If… if you guys wanted to go, it's really pretty. The serpent clans are really good with alchemical lights and choreography."
I hum in acknowledgement and glance at Roan, "I'll go with Orien, wanna come?"
"Hell yeah!" Roan nods. He offers, "Should I get you snacks in case you get hungry in the middle?"
I smirk, "Obviously. Orien, do you have a favorite snack?"
"Oh– um," the avian stammers, "You really don't have to get me anything."
"C'mon, Feathers, don't be like that," Roan places his large palm on top of Orien's head and beams down at him. "Zoryn likes you so that means you get the bear family treatment from us."
Orien's cheeks warm instantly and his big, beautiful dark eyes widen. "Ah… ah, okay– I really like skyberry tarts…"
Roan gives him a thumbs up, "Got it. You two can go ahead. Save a spot for me, Ryn."
I give him a little salute and nod, "Consider your spot saved. Ready, Orien?"
My new little avian friend nods, and I can't help but wrap my arm over his shoulder. I love having short friends—they're perfect arm rests. Too bad most of the bears in our clan are my height or taller.
"Lead the way!" I announce. His feathers tremble slightly, but he starts walking.
As we leave, I swear I can feel three sets of bitter eyes on my back—oh well, not my problem.