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Call of the White wolf eighty four
Logan and his gamma walked back to the pack house in relative silence. Several thoughts kept running through the alpha's mind. At least now, Aella's name would be cleared, albeit not completely. She would still be seen as a rogue wolf that was sent to spy on them, and the only reason Jesse was assigned the position of a spy in the pack was that Aella had failed at it by getting herself mated to him.Jesse was the last person he had expected to be the spy though. He stole a sideways look at the man as he dragged him forward by the collar. He was one of those silent, sidelines people, those you'd never know they were there until they spoke. Logan had seen a lot of himself in the man and had admired his knack for staying level-headed even in very tough situations. That was the very reason why he had made Jesse his Gamma.Logan's mind flashed back to when they had been younger. While Casper had been his best friend, Jesse had been that boy that sort of tagged along anytime they went on th
Call of the White wolf eighty five
Aella's dreams made no senseFirst, she was in the foyer of the pack house in Logan's pack, walking down the makeshift aisle that was meant for Louve. She looked sideways at the crowd of well-wishers and instead of the faces of Logan's pack members, she saw grins and sneers from the members of the Rogue Pack. She looked down and instead of a white dress, she was putting on a black one: lacy and tattered, like a Bride of Death. Someone was leading her by the arm, and when she looked up, she saw that it was her dad.Impossible, she had time to think before they got to the makeshift altar, where the Wolf Priest was waiting for the both of them. She heard low chants from the members of the Rogue Pack behind her but she paid little heed. All her attention was focused on her groom who was standing with his back to her, looking very much like Logan. Maybe this dream isn't so bad after all, she thought. But when the groom turned to her, she was staring not at Logan but at the face of the Rogu
Call of the White wolf eighty six
Logan had been waiting for a long time.He was standing in the part of the woods that faced the border, with a hundred and fifty well-armed warriors. The whole forest was silent and tense, almost as though all the animals were joining in the wait for the arrival of the Rogue King.He had sent Casper ahead with a couple of other warriors to scan the land ahead and send word when they noticed the arrival of the Rogue King. He had told his beta to wave a red flag when coming to indicate that battle was near. So far it had been four hours since he sent Casper out, and he was feeling as harried and on edge as a father expecting his newborn child.He was seated on a white stallion, bred specially for the use of alphas in the pack. His hair was packed up in a man bun and he was dressed in black fighting gear. He had smeared black paint across both of his cheeks, as well as all the other warriors that stood behind him. He raised a hand and pulled at the tight material on his neck uncomfortabl
Call of the White wolf eighty seven
Logan dismounted from his stallion and walked forward to the edge of the border in preparation to meet the Rogue King. Every angle of his face was set in determination as he looked forward, the spring air caressing his regal face.Then suddenly, he spotted a speck of black coming forward from about a mile forward. The whole army behind him was so silent that the alpha could hear his beta breathing lightly beside him.Casper looked at his alpha. “Logan—” he said, then broke off, stiffening all over. A moment later Logan heard it too—a heavy, rhythmic pounding, and laid over that, a sound like several bonfires crackling. The speck grew and elongated little by little until it was a line of army, running towards Logan and his pack. It took the alpha several long moments to understand the noise.“The Rogue Army.” Casper whispered. Following his gaze, he saw them, coming closer and closer like a spreading shadow, the Rogue Wolf pack in all their numbers. There must have been hundreds of th
Call of the White wolf eighty eight
Logan screamed, and several things happened at once."Attack!" Casper yelled, and the whole of Logan's warriors roared and raced toward the Rogue King and his army. The rogue army equally chanted in a loud voice and beat their weapons against their shield, then ran at the oncoming warriors.Both armies met in the middle of the grassy land. The sound of their collision was terrible and harsh to the ears: the screeching of iron on iron as shields met, the barking and snarling of the frontline wolves as they tore at each other, the painful yells of dozens of Lycan warriors as they were stabbed or speared or torn apart to death.The bodies of Logan's gamma and the spy from the rogue pack were lost in the commotion. Logan barely had time to access the situation of the battle or go after the Rogue King. He had eyes only for his mate. He spotted her in the middle of the stampede, lying on the floor as her life seeped out of her body.He ran towards her after she slipped to the ground before
Call of the White wolf 89
Everything was peaceful again.Logan stood at the border that separated his pack from bare land. He slowly looked around, taking in the scene of the battle that had happened so many months ago now. The sight was still as vivid as though it had happened just yesterday. He could still see the Rogue King and all his numbers standing mere meters from where he stood, the sounds of clashing metal and yelling men, so familiar and neverforgotten, the scent too, of blood and fear and adrenaline. Everything still looked and smelled and sounded the same, yet so much had changed since then.He sighed and looked up into the sky, raking his hand through his ponytail. It was almost springtime already; the whole forest reminded him of the change in season. The tree trunks dappled in the morning light and the shadow of the leaves on his face. Some of the trees were already bringing out leaves and flowers. The air smelled of over-ripe berries, fading blossoms, and a thousand or more flowers dazing hi
Call of the White wolf One
Logan stared dejectedly out the window of his bedroom, silently cursing the snow that had picked the wrong day to fall. The cold and lonely weather was doing all the wrong things to his already black mood. He grunted and raised a hand to his head, raking his fingers through his black shoulder-length hair. Dammit, where was inner peace when you badly needed it? He hated feeling like this.He turned abruptly from the window and began pacing the room. He had gone to see his invalid father as a last resort this morning, hoping for some much-needed advice on what to do about the rogue attacks at their boundary. As usual, his father had barely recognized him, then after he finally did, had screamed a load of gibberish, capping it up with cries for Jessica to be brought to him. Jessica had been his mate and Logan's mother before she was killed years ago.As if that wasn't enough, there had been pressure on him of late to find a mate. He was always steadily reminded that he needed a Luna chos
Call of the White wolf Two
Logan continued to walk through the forest, paying no attention to the direction his steps were taking him. He felt as though he was moving against a tide, as though he was leaving all he had always wanted behind him. All that his heart and wolf wanted was to turn back and see his mate again, but his brain needed a break from everything that had just happened.He reached the edge of a creek and sat down on a tree stump beside it. The creek was his comfort spot, a place where he could offload and recharge. It had been his favorite spot as a young werewolf, and now, with all the responsibilities of an Alpha on his shoulders, he found himself coming here more often.The creek was frozen over due to the weather, its surface shining like a lake of glass. Logan stared into it, seeing his reflection look back up at him. His was the face of a tired young man who had been dealt the rougher side of life.From a very young age, he had been made the Alpha in his father's stead, having to rule ove
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