King Micajah

t h i r t y

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t h i r t y

Adah has shifted back into her human form long ago, wearing mismatched clothes that were far too big for her. A few more wolves from her pack had come to aid with the injured, and handed out clothing to everyone.

Micajah refuses to shift back in this moment. His large form is pacing up and down the border line, the wolf in him angry and upset. He's hurting, from the loss of the few members. They didn't know how many yet – the bodies hadn't been counted. The scruff of his neck is tethered, and matted with crusted blood that still pools. He's stronger in his wolf form though, so he sucks it up, walking the border. They had called for some replacement wolves to patrol the area, and he was waiting for them to arrive. Patrol numbers had tripled. They weren't going to let anything else happen.

The air is much colder, the sun now in hiding. Nothing occupied the atmosphere but despair. They won the battle, but not the war. They won this battle, but at the cost of a few lives. The wolves who had attacked knew what they were getting into, but the patrol guards hadn't had a single idea, didn't know that of all days today could've been their last. They were given no chance to say goodbye.

The ground amongst the border line was horrific. It's soil no longer held water, but now held blood of both the enemy and their own. It was a muddy-red colour, that pooled and collected in some of the small dips in the earth. The leaves of plants had curled back into themselves, and shrunk away. Death coveted them.

It brings bile to Adah's throat. Hot guilt sits in her stomach. Maybe she should've done more to look out for them. How was she going to face the families of these wolves, their loved ones, their friends? What sort of leader was she?

She feels numb. They should've been ready. They should've expected this. Regardless of the fact that it happened so soon. It happened within the span of twelve hours – night hadn't even hit yet, and the confirmations of allies was only this morning.

Uriah had left a few minutes ago, having tied up and chained the four wolves from the opposition that were allowed to live. His left leg strained, limping as he walked. He definitely pulled a muscle.

Currently, healers and doctors has infiltrated the scene, separating the dead from the living. The injured were taken away immediately to go get treated. They were waiting on the coroners of the pack to come and dispose of the dead bodies. The wolves of the opposition, once they had found out which pack they were belong to, would be sent back. Adah didn't hate these wolves. War is war. She didn't want their families to not have the chance to say goodbye. The wolves of this pack, would be prepped for funeral rites that would take place later on at night.

Adah gets up, a small wince arising from her features. She ignored the dried blood that had splurged on the shirt she wore. The wound she had gotten from being bitten all those weeks ago, had gotten reopened during this attack, and once again bled warm liquid. It was nothing compared to Micajah's neck and she worried immensely. She could sense his spirit was restless, desperate to get justice.

She sits next to his wolf form, her hand stroking the top of his head. She whispers words that are soothing, comforting. This wasn't any of their fault. They would get this sorted out soon. They would be more prepared next time.

Micajah shifts after a while, and Adah gasps at the state of him. Her stomach feels sick, looking at his wound. Fear prickles over her skin, and worry settles deep. Some wolf mustve gotten luck and nipped right into his neck. Dried blood sat on his skin, dripping all the way to his shoulder.

"Get up. You need to go the pack hospital. Now," her tone sounds afraid, and she stands, gently tugging at him. He pulls back, shaking his head. His silver eyes are determined, and cold.

"No. My pack needs me," he snaps.

"You go Adah. Look at your stomach. I have to be here," it's almost a snarl. Adah sighs.

She knows he's hurting, and she knows he wants to do as much as he could. But he couldn't, not in the state he was.

"Micajah no. We aren't arguing about it. My stomach can hold it out. Micajah you're bleeding out. Please," her voice cracks, the fear shooting sharp within her.

He hears it, and sighs, before standing. He kisses the top of her head, his blood smearing her cheek, trying to show her he was okay. Tears brim in her eyes.

"Go please. I can sort this out. I can't lose you. Get it fixed," her voice wavers, her hand grasping him pleadingly.

His shoulders sink in defeat, and Adah can see he just wants to crumble. He wants to crumble in relief knowing that they were both alive, wants to crumble in pain knowing that some of his own was dead. He was feeling too much, and the wolf within him was becoming more riled and riled, and eventually he'd blow. He's defeated – she's right. He had to get out of here, and not just for his own sake.

"I'll take him. You can stay here and sort this out," Adah's relief almost knocks her over when Jayden comes up behind the both of them, features solemn. She gives him a hug, thanking him.

"Thank you. I love you," her tone is low for her mate, and she kisses his cheek, watching him and Jayden head back together.

She sits back onto the cold ground once again. The area had been cleared of all living wolves – all the injured once had gone to the hospital, and the ones who weren't that bad, went to got get examined by the healers. The replacement patrol wolves hadn't arrived yet.

It was just Adah. Sitting next to a massacre of dead bodies. She feels cold, not just because of the winter. Her wolf is sad. Not only for her pack members, but for the northern wolves too. Why is war always the answer?

She can scent Uriah on his way back, but doesn't speak a word as he sits down next to her. He wraps an arms around her, the beta wolf in him protective of his luna, wanting her to be safe and okay. She sighs, holding him close.

They both don't say anything. Over the next couple of hours, the bleeding on Adah's stomach stopped, but the open wound was still there. The replacement patrol wolves had arrived and set camp, and about eight coroners had arrived with vans, and were wrapping up the dead bodies to be sent back to their homes, so their families could say goodbye. They were sent in white for the northerners, but her own pack members were covered in silver shrouds. The sky becomes a little darker.

But this was just the beginning of the night, much was to go down yet.

"Come on ma," Uriah's voice is warm, and gentle. She picks her head up from him, eyes brimmed red. Her features feel stiff and numb. The corners had finished the job, and there was nothing left to oversee.

"Let's go get your stomach checked out," he murmurs, pulling her carefully up. She rubs her eyes.

"And your leg," she mumbles. He gives a soft grin of agreement, and they walk back to the pack hospital, close together.

"You should take a nap. It's going to be a long night," Uriah tells her softly, picking up her and keeping her close.

"A long night? It's going to be a long war," Adah corrects, voice small and it's almost a whimper before she catches herself.

A/N - okay i feel like the tone/quality of my writing was brought back this chapter.