Under the Sky

Zeff

Anyone can say what they want, but for me, the best fruit is blackberries. They have a complex and rich flavor, offering a sweet yet tart taste with earthy undertones, often accompanied by a subtle hint of acidity. The juiciness adds to their appeal, providing a burst of flavor with every bite. While many choose the same old strawberries, for me, it has always been blackberries.

Since childhood, my mother would plant blackberry bushes, and I would often sneak out to harvest the fresh fruit at its ripest, enjoying the tart flavor. The memory of those sun-warmed berries, their deep purple juice staining my fingers, is a cherished part of my past. Blackberries have always been a comforting, nostalgic delight, a small but profound pleasure in my life.

By the time I hit seventeen, just like every teenager in our reservoir, we meet our wolf. Given to us by our ancestors and our god to guide the family into the traditions of our early roots, it is then that we become men and shift into our inner selves. Everything was easier for kids in Darwood Reservoir, except when you are an Alpha.

When you are born into a line of Alphas, there are more responsibilities involved. You are born in a leader’s den and are forged as a leader as you grow up. You are towered and drowned with the title and responsibilities of an Alpha. You must lead the pack, convey peace around us, and eliminate threats that might sway the roots our ancestors have built. We are a supernatural paradigm of order and power, and many look up to the packs of the Wolves.

It’s all a circle of life. We meet our wolf; two years later, we are ready to meet our mate for life, where we would build a family, help the companies and contribute to the community. But we Alphas are different. We are trained to be ready for challenges that may come to subdue our status. And that status can be subdued if you don’t have your mate.

Meeting your mate is like a gravitational pull of the world that shifts into that person. You don’t choose it. Nature does. And when it does, you will know by the smell and the aura emitted.

I always yearned for that smell, and I bet my blood it will be blackberries. Today marks my twenty-sixth year, and I am still waiting for that mate to come.

The great blood of the Gunnolf has always been the strongest around. While I have yet to find my mate, my parents grew restless waiting to find the Luna to lead my pack and the companies. Many have questioned my status, but I have prevailed. I have roamed all over the reservoir, looking, meeting, and hoping for it, but nothing yet.

Josh, my best friend and beta in command, suggested I go out and explore. While it’s uncommon for us to find mates outside our reservoir, there have been rare cases of outsiders being mates. Even less common, humans.

My parents were slightly disappointed over the years to grasp the possibility that an outsider might become Luna. They have suggested, as per certain other traditions, to mark another suitor as a mate. While the pull won’t be as nature intended, it fulfills the purpose of having a Luna within the pack and continuing with our generations.

The Sage of our pack, Greyfur, was against it. He had seen beyond and believed my destined mate would bring greatness. Yet here I am six years later, still waiting impatiently.

When the Parr hits, things get extremely complicated. It’s an animal instinct to elope. Wolves do it in different seasons, and it’s the call of nature to grow the pack. It’s an intense heat and yearn for sexual elope. Many spend it with their mates; others choose unmated fellows to resolve such tension.

The first one was suffocating. It’s a blazing heat and a fight for control. For an Alpha, it’s ten times stronger. As a young wolf, the first three years are a total heat of pleasure, although many say the Parr is exquisitely better with your mate. While my mother selected my partner for the Parr to ensure the privacy of the Alpha status and making sure I was not eloping with a mated wolf.

Sexual intercourse with someone who’s mated isn’t condoned. As when you mate, a unique bond is created with your chosen one where you share your feelings and moods. Doing so would put your chosen one in pain, and you would be condemned for disloyalty to your gods wishes. However this is an exception when its a human who is not marked.

Some had the audacity to use this to hurt their partner during arguments and need, where the council deemed laws to punish those who tried to use the bond for torture. There are occasions people refuse their mates. It’s a similar feeling, but when the refusal is mutual, the pain can last less, and it can be healed with second mating. Nature always gives you a chance. That is why the Sage wasn’t inclined to mark mates and instead let nature do its job.

My Parr has become common for me to the point I have learned to control it. By the time I hit twenty-two, I stopped using my mother’s selection. At first, that bothered my father. An Alpha male must not ignore the nature of our call. Yet I was also reminded of image, status, and influence. I was just getting tired of relieving with second plates when my chosen one is out there.

My wolf understood. He yearned for that connection. As when the Parr hits, I would find myself in my wolf form, deep in the woods of Blue Mountain, desperately looking for the smell of blackberries.