Word Count: 1,842Tisiphone inhaled the crisp night air, taking in the forest. The dusty scent of birds, the warm; tantalizing scents of smaller mammas; the heady, clean mixture of growing green things and the decay of fallen foliage; the earthy scent of minerals in stone; the cool scent of moisture condensing on anything it can touch. She released the breath in a great, gusty sigh. It was a soothing mixture, and she was glad for it, even if it did remind her of her first home.
Not that she was liable to be thinking of anything else just then.
There was a reason that she was spending the night on the fringes of the lands rather than in the den with the others, and it was not just her usual surly, anti-social temperament.
Earlier that very day, she had just buried her greatest enemy. The one who had slaughtered her family. The one whom she had just killed. Yes. Tisiphone had finally lived up to her name and had taken revenge on the murderer. The mad beast who had killed not only her family, but the gods only knew how many other innocents. Her sister. Her alpha. Their pups. Her lover. All of them, dead in one brutal, bloody massacre. Now, he was dead, too.
The dark femme was not entirely sure how she should feel about that. It was true that most would balk at such a thing as the death of a wolf at the fangs of another. However, it was equally true that Belial had more than deserved it. He was a mad dog that needed to be put down. Surely she had done justice. So what if she was one of the wronged? That only made it more appropriate that she had been the one to exact vengeance.
What did not sit so well with her was the fact that she had to contract that other wolf, Poine, to even find the killer. Worse, she had to have the other female drag Belial back to her like a naughty pup. It did not feel quite right, killing someone who was already in as bad a shape as he was. It did not sit very well with her honor…almost like cheating. Then again, she had already come to the conclusion that he deserved worse than she had given him. So, what did it matter that he was already half-dead when she killed him? What was stronger: her honor or her loyalty to her family?
Well, the answer to that one should be obvious. Her family was infinitely more important than she could ever be, let alone her honor. That being the case, it should not bother her at all the state he had been in. For all she knew, if she had tracked him down herself, he could have been in the very same state all on his own. Was she trying to fool herself into accepting what she had done? No. Not really. She was simply trying to decide what it was about this that bothered her.
Certainly, it was not the fact that he was dead. If that much was certain, then there was no question that the fact that she had done the deed herself did not bother her. No. She was morbidly pleased at that. It had certainly helped settle her, given her a sense of closure. Given her permission to mourn her family and sing them to rest at last. Wherever their spirits had flown to, they could now rest peacefully. Their killer was dead. They had been avenged.
That once more brought her back to the question of what it was that was bothering her. She had determined that her pride was not as important as her family. So, what, then, could it be?
The inky black female turned her thoughts to her band of painted wolves. They had become like a family in their own right. Not through blood, but by bonds they themselves had chosen to create. Heyoka, who was both a daughter and a sister to her. She was a wild thing, she loved danger and adrenaline. She also had a bloody past that she never discussed. But Tisiphone knew. The older female could feel the pain in Heyoka, because she held the same pain close to her heart. Yes. Heyoka knew what it was to lose something precious, and she was not a soft creature. She would not blame Tisiphone for taking her revenge. In fact, she would probably be happy to hear it.
Of course, there was Captain. The male who balanced her own fiery temper with his calm rationale. He did not speak of his past, either. However, whatever was in it, he was a formidable wolf. Yes. He was a warrior, and he could be practical when circumstances called for it. He never hesitated when it came to a battle, and she had seen him fight to protect the others time and again. Despite his gentlemanly manner, Tisiphone had little doubt that he would not object to her actions.
Zanza’jin, perhaps? He was a friend, almost a brother. He was a silly wolf. A clown. A hopeless flirt. He was not at all interested in fighting. In fact, he preferred to avoid it as much as possible…to the point of not stepping in to fight with the rest of them, even when they had to face a mad bear. A scowl crossed her maw. She was still not happy with him about that. The point remained. Violence was hot Zanza’s forte. However, he did have a more serious side. Clearly, there was also something in his past. Something that he was hiding, like the rest of them. Regardless, he had never hesitated to follow her lead, and was quick to praise her, even for her more violent actions. No. She doubted that Znza’jin would be too terribly upset at her about what she had done.
Despite their radically different temperaments, despite the fact that they knew so very little about each others’ pasts, her painted band was family. They would not abandon her for something like revenge. Especially if they knew what he was like, what he had done, and most especially if they knew how much good it did her. She had nothing to fear from their reactions.
If not family or pride, then what was this quiet uneasiness? Her morals? Certainly not. It was well established that Tisiphone had no qualms about killing a wolf. None at all. While she might not seek to end the lives of others, at least, not those who did not deserve it, she would not hesitate to kill those who threatened her or her family. Her own painful history had taught her all too well what weakness accomplished. She would never be so lenient with a threat again. It got people killed. The people that mattered.
If not morals, then perhaps the pack? It was certainly true that she felt drawn to this place and these wolves like no other place she had come across. At least, not since her first family died. Or would that be her second family? Well, that was beside the point. Acropolis called to her, and she thought that her wolves were beginning to adjust, as well. Heyoka might whine like a pup and kick up a fit, but Tisiphone knew that she was also starting to make friends. This was good for her, learning how to survive in a pack. Interact with others who were not part of their little painted band. Captain was kind and calm enough to get along just about anywhere, and she knew how tired he was of the traveling. He seemed to be doing well. Zanza, well, he would surely be breaking hearts all over the pack, if he were not careful. She knew that he could keep others at a distance if he wanted to, but she also knew that he was outgoing enough to make friends here. As for herself, Tisiphone was slowly but surely making her own bonds. Respect. Understanding. Perhaps even something more…
And that brought her to it.
This was a good place for her band, and she did not particularly want to move one, but they could, if they had to. No. It was not the pack or the lands that worried her. It was one wolf. One, large, handsome male with an intoxicating scent. An alpha by the name of Hephaestus.
The female sighed again and rolled over onto her side.
They had been spending a lot of time together, that alpha and she. More time than she spent with any other one wolf. Probably, he spent more time with her than anyone else, as well. She sometimes accompanied him on border patrol. Or they spent evenings together, just talking. Or he showed her some other, beautiful corner of his territory that she had not seen before. It was more than just pleasant company or a handsome face. Tisiphone genuinely liked and respected him….and she had the sinking suspicion that it could become something more than that. In fact, it might already be more than that.
Therein lie the problem. What if he did not approve of what she had done? What if he thought she was too dangerous to remain? Or too cruel or heartless? What if he thought she was a monster no better than the one she had slain? What if he was disgusted and hated her for it? What then? What would she do if she told him and he rejected her? If she handed him her heart only for him to break it?
How pathetic was she, to be brought so low by a male.
Perhaps, then, she should not tell him. Not yet. Perhaps she should not tell anyone. It was a personal matter, after all. Something of her past. Something that she had finally laid to rest. Perhaps the past is where it should remain. Where it could do no harm. One day, maybe, if she felt comfortable and secure enough to speak of it, she might. Then again, she might not. It was not something that the world needed to know. They all had their secrets, after all. This would be hers.
Feeling if not precisely better about the whole thing, then at least clearer about it, Tisiphone was content to stick with her decision. She would keep her secret in the past where it belonged and she would not dwell on it any longer. For the first time in years, there was a future to look forward to, if she were bold enough to take it, and it looked unspeakably beautiful. She would embrace that future and live her life, for the sister and friend who never had the chance to watch their pups grow up, for the pups who never had the chance to experience life, and for her very first lover, who never got to spend his life with her and whom she would never forget. For them, she would live.
