Chapter 1: Aazadi
Mink’s P.O.V
I wasn't dead. Not yet. But it sure felt like it.
When is a person supposed to die? I didn't know. I'm not literate. Women aren't supposed to be.
At least that's what he says.
Is it when we stop breathing? I don’t know…because it felt like I had been holding my breath for years, afraid that they would hear me.
Is it when your heart stops beating? I don't know. Because mine stopped the moment I saw my partners set on fire in front of my own eyes. Their flesh melting from their bones…their screams echoing in the desert mercilessly for all to hear.
And no one came to help.
My mother had been different. She'd cared for me. Fed me. Brushed my hair. Told me I was special. That the Goddess of Wolves had created me to destroy all those who torment us. I had believed her, just as I had believed in her stories of a beautiful world outside the confines of my door, which I wasn’t allowed to open…ever.
But I had made that mistake…I had opened that door…when I heard applauds and screams of what sounded to be a joyous occasion.
Little had I known that my world would turn upside down right at that moment…
"Jala dena sabko! Kisi ko mat chorna!" (Burn them all. Don't leave anyone alive!). She had screamed at me as the fire turned her fair skin black, made it bubble out blood. "In rakshaso main se koi bhi jeene layak na hain!" (None of these demons deserve to live).
I hadn't answered. I couldn't. My throat had clogged, my mind had gone numb…and I had been restrained by those very monsters, my head held in their rough grip and my eyes pried open to watch the grotesque scene until the very end…
But he'd laughed. Laughed so hard. While my mother...my father....were burnt to death, their bodies blackened skeletons that hung from metal poles in the middle of the pack. Their screams echoing through my mind even now, even after a day had passed.
But they had saved me…they had kept me in a cell and were now waiting. Waiting for the day I turn fourteen and become the pack’s next breeder.
A sound of bells broke me out of my thoughts.
It came closer, slowly yet steadily…accompanied by the familiar sound of something being dragged through the rough sand grains.
I peeked from behind the tent where I was hiding, waiting for an opportunity. A khanjaar (a knife) was held tightly in my hand, a man's white kurta (a top for men) hung from my thin body, my white hair hung loose over my face, camouflaging with the sands below.
I’d purposely rolled on the sand and dirt before I came into hiding. I'd prepared myself as such so that no one can distinguish between the sand and me. So no one would be able to suspect what was about to happen next.
The noise came closer and stopped in front of
his door."Malik!" (Leader) One of them called out in his gruff, intoxicated voice.
I peeked further, but remained in the shadows so I wouldn’t get caught. The others were sleeping. Deeply.
I saw two of his big, burly men holding a girl by each arm in a brown dress. She looked unconscious, her head drooped and her legs dragging. A trail of blood on the sand behind her showed that she was bleeding from between her legs. Her face was hidden behind a curtain of her dark hair, but I could tell she was hardly a few years older than me.
"Kya hain?" (What is it?) Came a gruff, slurry voice as the door banged open. His voice.
Rafael.
The leader of our pack. The strongest warrior of them all. Someone who thinks himself to be God.
He's the reason every woman in the village is a slave, a breeder. He says that women are birthing organs, their only duty was to cook and clean and satisfy the soldiers. And those who couldn’t birth anymore will have to die. He killed my parents for keeping me hidden till now…for keeping me away from his hungry eyes.
“Malik, she just gave birth to a choodi (girl)! Should we kill her too?” One of the men asked him.
Kill her too? The ominous sound reverberated through the air, creating a deafening echo in my skull.
“What’s the need? She’s dying anyway. Throw her out in the dunes; she’ll be buried under it by morning.” I held on to my Khanjaar tightly as Rafael’s slurred voice echoed through the quite village.
“Yes Malik!” The men echoed and dragged the woman away while Rafael came out of his tent, a green liquor bottle in hand and wearing only a loin cloth. I hid my face behind the tent and used my ears to listen to his movements. My wolf hadn't awakened yet, but I could hear better, and see and smell better than anyone in my pack, even the men.
I listened to Rafael’s movements in the sand, but then his feet turned towards me. I keep my body close to the ground and start backing away like a snake, using my hand to disturb my train in the sand in front of me. I heard Rafael turn the corner as I hid behind the tent. He stayed there for some time, as if sensing something amiss, but not realizing the implications. And then he moved back inside the tent, throwing the hara (green) bottle on the ground with a loud clanking noise.
I waited in that position for hours, I don’t know how many but I had to be patient. But then everything grew very quiet, except for the sound of night owls and the distant crickets. That was when I stood up. I was about to walk the other way, straight into the desert to regain my freedom, when a light coming from the front of the tent caught my eye.
I walk towards it slowly, my feet soundless on the sand. I found the bottle that Rafael had thrown on the ground. I pick it up and smell it and instantly, I remember the smell of this liquid that Rafael had poured on my parents before setting them on fire.
Suddenly, in the dead of the night, a plan hatches in my mind.
"Jala dena sabko! Kisi ko mat chorna!"
My mother’s desperate voice echoes in my ears, and her meaning becomes clear to me.
I take the bottle with me and pour some on the tent I’ve been hiding behind. I then remember another kind of water my mother used to store in our house, the one she used to cook food and burn lamps. And I know where they keep it in storage. So I seek out more bottles as the entire village sleeps, after a night of drinking and gambling as usual.
This water is blue and they use it to burn fire. So I pour it over as many tents as I can, and then take two rocks in my hand. Just like my mother taught me to, I hit them together to create a spark and throw them on the water and it catches fire. Suddenly, a wind blows through the desert, a strong wind.
Good. A storm is coming.
And as I watch, the fire spreads like a red and gold river, slowly engulfing the tents one by one.
I turn around and walk towards the fence of our village, as the fire keeps spreading behind me.
And then come the screams. Just like my mother and father had screamed…they scream as well. Cold and blood curdling.
Amid the screams, I hear the women chanting something, almost like a prayer. Only one word comes to my ears- aazadi (freedom)!
The men scream like women, terrified of the fate that had befallen them. This time, I laugh. I laugh so hard that I cry.
And then I run. I run as fast as I can until I reach the vast sands of the desert, endless and engulfing. Until there are no more screams.
Chapter 2: The White Wolf Mink’s P.O.V The fresh gust of cold desert wind did nothing to soothe the ache inside my chest. Not when I could still hear them…the screams. Smoke rose in the horizon, the light of the fire glowing a bright red-gold, as it illuminated the skies. And then there were the screams…terrifyingly satisfying. “Ma…d…” Startled, I whipped around to find the source of the sound. It appeared to have been from somewhere near me, and yet, I couldn’t see anyone in the vicinity. I strained my ears, but the wind was strong. It kept sending sand everywhere. I have to cover my eyes, my mouth and even then I could feel the fine grains on my tongue. A storm was coming. “Madat….” (Help) There it was! I close my eyes tightly and move forward, up a sand hill. It seemed to be coming from somewhere down the hill… “Madat….” I climb over the sand hill, as fast as I can, opening my eyes only when I can feel the direction of the win
Chapter 3: Wanderer Mikalya’s P.O.V For nearly a century I'd roamed this Earth, wandering through different lands, watching time fly past. People changed, empires rose and fell, India gained its independence, new generations were born and the older ones died out. An endless cycle of life and death that seems to stretch on for eternity. But even though the world around me had changed so much, I was still trapped in that cold winter night from a century ago when a young girl had to not only grow up overnight, but do something that no child of fourteen should ever have to dream about. A cold night painted in deep, dark red that even the darkness couldn't hide. Screams so loud and painful that it echoed throughout the lands. And then....silence. What had hurt more than the screams was the endless silence. Silence now buried under thousands of layers of sand. No one remembers Mouri anymore, as if it never existed. The pack that I had been born into had liked to travel, liked to kill e
Chapter 4: The Foreigner Abhay’s P.O.V I took another shot of the women sewing together a brilliant bed sheet with needles and threads and then checked the photos for clarity. This was going to be the most amazing project I’d ever done for the Lifestyle Magazine. The brightness of the colors contrasted well with the whitewashed buildings and brought the women into sharp focus. My new Nikon FM2 had cost me a fortune but it was worth every dime I spent and the whole night’s wait in front of the shop. And it was lightweight and easy to carry. I still had a few longer, high resolution lenses in the duffle bag that I’d left back at the hotel, but since I was just walking through the vibrant marketplace and taking close-up shots, it was easier to carry a lightweight camera. It was about three o’ clock on a winter afternoon but the sun was beating down on all of us mercilessly, although I was the only one who seemed to be affected by it. I wiped away a bead of sweat from my brows with a
Chapter 5: Illusions Abhay’s P.O.V For a couple of seconds, I felt flabbergasted. Yes, I was a healthy male of twenty seven with a proper sexual appetite, but I’ve never imagined myself naked and in bed with any women. I was brought up with parents who had taught me that in our culture, sex before marriage was not the right way to go about it. And I’d always believed in that principle. Yes, I’ve had a couple of relationships in my life. Once when I was in high school, with a girl about three years younger than me, we had drifted apart after I left school to join college. My second relationship had been in my second year of college, with a girl in my class who had shared my enthusiasm for photography. But we too had drifted apart right after I’d landed a job at Lifestyle Magazine as an intern and she had left for Calcutta to work for The Daily Telegraph. But I’ve never had any physical relationships with either of my ex’s. We had kissed, yes, I wasn’t that much of a saint, but we h
Chapter 6: Reality Mink’s P.O.V No. NO! This cannot be happening and especially not now…not here! Ruksaar chatted on beside me without a care in the world as we both walked briskly back to our hotel. She was blissfully unaware of the torment that was going through my mind as I balled my hands into fists, my claws slicing out to pierce the delicate skin of my palm. The wounds would heal even before they were formed and I wished with all my power that my mind could work the same way. But his image was now imprinted in my mind and it’ll stay right there until the day I die. Mate. The bloody word tasted like poison in my mouth and I tried to suppress the shudder that raked through me, but to no avail. Wide almond shaped eyes the color of topaz, with more gold than brown; they were eyes of a cat. His hair had been a dark shade of brown that appeared almost black. I could picture it in the sun, however, with a brown tint to it. It would be soft to the touch- I reined back my thoughts
Chapter 7: Desert Snow Abhay’s P.O.V It was snowing. The ground was completely white. It had snowed overnight and now the tiny yellow blossoms that looked like miniature sunflowers were buried under three feet of fresh snow, their petals crushed under the heavy weight. It was going to be a long, cold year ahead and the snow has only just begun. I looked at the waterfall in front of me, untouched by the winter chill. Jharna, that was what we called it. The literal Hindi translation of a waterfall, but it just sounded right to us. It was freezing outside but I knew it would be nice and warm inside the pack house. It would also be noisy. But I liked that noise. It was welcoming. It was home. Something dropped to the ground then, at my feet. I looked down to see what it was. It was only a speck in the vast sea of snow but it stood out amongst the white. It was in the shape of a tiny drop but the warmth coming from it melted the snow a little, caused a slight dent as it was absorbed i
Chapter 8: Cruel Fate Mink’s P.O.V I watched four men approach us from the other end of the desert. Each one was wearing the traditional Gujarati dhoti-kurta along with the multicolored turbans. Their stance was rigid, their expression harsh. One hundred years later and the world hasn’t changed all that much from since I was a child. Shifters are still a male dominated species, not much different from the patriarchal society that humans live in. I often wonder what it was that made men so special that they thought they could rule every aspect of everyone’s lives. Be it humans or shifters, women were always looked down upon. I could understand the theory behind this discrimination with humans, but shifters? Shifters were strong and that strength didn’t discriminate between male or female. The highest I’ve ever seen a female shifter rise in rank was a beta in a deer shifter pack, which was pretty unconventional considering that most of the deer packs comprise of females with one big
Chapter 9: The Meeting Abhay’s P.O.V Since I had gotten up well before sunrise, I decided to first clean up and then quickly changed into some loose fitting comfort clothes so I wouldn’t boil under the sun like I had yesterday. After I was ready, I packed up my camera so I could head to the desert for some shots of the sunrise. I locked up and caught a motor van ride into the desert along with some other men and women who were heading to Jaipur. I was also able to get a cup of piping hot tea on the way, along with some biscuits that I enjoyed in the cool morning breeze as the motor van left the cemented town road and entered the bumpy desert road. I found a suitable place to get off and waved the other passengers goodbye as I hoisted my backpack over one shoulder and headed toward the desert to find a suitable spot for taking pictures. Once I’d found a spot, I set my backpack down and began taking pictures of the sun as it rose above the d