Chapter 14 - Articus

The forest was alive with the sounds of early morning as Articus weaved between the trees, his feet pounding a steady rhythm on the damp earth.

Dawn was just breaking, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold that filtered through the canopy above. He had always found solace in these quiet moments, when the world was still waking up, and his thoughts could roam as freely as his legs.

Today, however, his mind kept circling back to one thing.

Wren.

As he rounded a bend in the trail, Articus decided to let his wolf take over. In a fluid motion born of years of practice, he shifted forms. Fur sprouted across his body, his spine elongated, and suddenly, he was racing through the underbrush on four paws instead of two feet.

His senses sharpened, the forest coming alive in new ways—the musty scent of decaying leaves, the chattering of squirrels high in the branches, the distant gurgle of a stream.

But even in this form, he couldn't escape his thoughts. Wren's vulnerability the night before, her tears, the softness of her lips against his—it was all etched into his memory.

Guilt gnawed at him as he leaped over a fallen log. He shouldn't have kissed her, not when she was in such a fragile state. But the way she had looked at him, her hazel eyes swimming with a mixture of pain and longing, had broken down all his defenses.

He slowed to a trot, panting slightly as he neared the edge of the forest. The trees thinned out, revealing the neat houses and well-kept lawns of the White Moon pack lands.

With a shake of his fur, Articus shifted back to human form, his clothes reappearing as if by magic—one of the perks of being a born werewolf.

As he walked the last stretch back to his house, an idea took shape. He would show Wren around White Moon and give her a taste of life on this side of the mountain.

Maybe it would help bridge the gap between them, erase some of her preconceptions about pack life. And selfishly, he hoped it might soften her toward him as well.

Articus headed inside, his nose twitching at the scent of coffee brewing. To his surprise, he found Wren already in the kitchen, a steaming mug cradled in her hands.

She was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans he must have left out for her, and her hair fell in soft waves around her face. Her delicate features were accentuated by high cheekbones and a small, slightly upturned nose.

His breath caught in his throat.

"Morning," he managed, trying to keep his voice steady. "How are you feeling?"

Wren's eyes flicked up to meet his, and he saw a flicker of... something. Uncertainty? Embarrassment? It was gone before he could place it.

"Better," she said quietly. "Thank you for the clothes."

He nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee to hide his sudden nervousness. "Listen, Wren, about last night—"

"Can we not?" she interrupted, her tone sharp. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I'm sorry. I just... I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Of course," Articus said quickly. "Actually, I was thinking, if you're up for it, maybe I could show you around town today? Give you a better sense of where you are, at least."

Wren hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse. But then she nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'd like that," she said softly.

Relief washed over him. "Great," he grinned. "Finish your coffee, and we'll head out."

As they stepped outside, Articus noticed Wren's eyes widen, taking in the lush greenery and neat houses of the White Moon pack lands. It was a far cry from the rougher landscape she was used to.

"It's... prettier than I expected," she admitted with a hint of wonder in her voice.

Articus couldn't help but chuckle. "What, did you think all of us here lived in caves?"

Wren rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. "No, I just... I guess I never really thought about what it might look like over here."

They started walking, and Articus pointed out various buildings and landmarks. The pack house, a stately building of stone and timber, where official meetings were held. He explained how it wasn't just for bureaucracy but also served as a gathering place for celebrations and community events.

"Every full moon, we have a huge feast there," he told her. "Everyone brings a dish to share, and we eat and dance until dawn. It's a way of strengthening our bonds as a pack."

Wren looked thoughtful. "That sounds... nice, actually. Where I'm from, the full moon was always a time to be on guard. You never knew who might lose control."

Her words made his heart ache, but before he could respond, they were interrupted by a group of children racing past them, laughing and shouting. They were headed for the school, a cheerful building painted in bright colors.

"Education is really important to us," Articus explained as they watched the kids file inside. "We believe that knowledge is power and that every pack member deserves the chance to learn and grow."

Wren nodded slowly. "We had nothing like this where I grew up. Most of us were taught by our parents, and some of the older kids taught younger ones what they knew, but it was hit or miss."

As they continued their walk, Articus found himself hyper-aware of Wren's presence beside him. The way her arm occasionally brushed against his sent little jolts of electricity through his body. He caught himself stealing glances at her profile, admiring the way the sunlight played across her features.

They passed the medical center next, a modern building with large windows and a welcoming entrance. Articus noticed Wren's brow furrow as she took it in.

"What is it?" he asked.

She hesitated before speaking. "It's just... for rogues, if you get hurt or sick, you're pretty much on your own unless you have money or connections. The idea of a whole building dedicated to taking care of people, it's..."

"It's how things should be," Articus said firmly. "Pack means family, and family takes care of each other. We need to do better on the Dark Side as well."

Wren didn't respond, but he saw her nod slightly, lost in thought. He wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, to offer some comfort, but he held back, not wanting to overstep.

They continued their tour, passing by various shops and businesses. Articus explained how their economy worked, how each pack member contributed according to their skills and abilities, and how they ensured everyone's basic needs were met.

"It's not perfect," he admitted. "We have our disagreements and challenges. But we try to look out for each other, to build something stronger than any one wolf could achieve alone."

At one point, their hands accidentally touched as they were both gesturing, and Articus felt a spark of... something. Wren quickly pulled her hand away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"So, uh, over there is our main marketplace," he said, pointing to a bustling square filled with stalls and shoppers. "Want to take a closer look?"

Wren nodded, and they made their way into the crowd. The air was filled with the mingled scents of fresh produce, baked goods, and savory meats. Wren's eyes darted from stall to stall, taking it all in.

"It's so... organized," she murmured. "And there's so much variety."

Articus smiled, pleased by her interest. "We trade with other packs in the region, which helps keep our supplies diverse. Plus, a lot of our pack members have specialized skills or crafts they contribute."

As they weaved through the market, Articus noticed Wren eyeing a display of handmade jewelry. Subtly, he guided her over with a light touch on her lower back.

He immediately regretted it, worried he had overstepped, but Wren didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer to examine a delicate silver bracelet adorned with moonstones.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

Articus watched her face, captivated by the way her eyes lit up. "It would suit you," he said softly before he could stop himself.

Wren looked up at him, surprise evident in her expression. For a moment, they were standing so close he could see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. Her lips, full and naturally pink, parted slightly as she gazed up at him. The urge to kiss her again was almost overwhelming.

Then, someone yelled a greeting to the jewelry trader from behind, breaking the spell. Articus stepped back, clearing his throat. "Should we, uh, keep going?"

Wren nodded, and they continued their tour. As they walked, Articus pointed out a group of wolves engaged in what looked like a heated debate near the fountain at the center of the square.

"What's going on there?" Wren asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Articus chuckled. "Ah, that's our weekly town forum. Any pack member can bring up issues or suggestions for improvement. It can get pretty lively."

Wren's eyebrows raised. "And you allow that? Open criticism?"

"Of course," he nodded. "It's crucial for a healthy pack. I can't be everywhere or see everything. The pack's input helps me make better decisions for everyone."

They paused for a moment, listening to the debate. A young wolf was passionately arguing for expanding the pack's solar energy program, while an older member expressed concerns about the cost.

"What do you think?" Articus asked Wren, genuinely curious about her perspective.

She seemed startled by the question as if she wasn't used to being asked her opinion on such matters. "I... well, renewable energy sounds smart. But I can see why some might worry about the expense. Maybe there's a way to implement it gradually?"

Articus smiled, impressed by her balanced view. "That's exactly the kind of compromise we often end up with. It's not always easy, but it's how we move forward together."

As they continued walking, he told her about the other towns in their territory—Silverpine, with its renowned craftsmen; Moonhaven, known for its healers and scholars; and Wolfcrest, home to their most skilled hunters and trackers.

"Silverpine is where a lot of our furniture and tools come from," he explained. "They have this amazing technique for working with wood that's been passed down for generations. And Moonhaven, well, they have the largest library you've ever seen. Wolves come from all over to study there."

"And Wolfcrest?" Wren asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Articus smiled. "They're our first line of defense, in a way. They patrol the borders and track any potential threats. But they're also the ones who organize our hunting parties and make sure we're managing the wildlife populations responsibly."

"It sounds so different from what I'm used to," Wren said. "On the Dark Side, it's every wolf for themselves. The idea of all these different groups working together, it's... nice."

Articus nodded, encouraged by her words. "Like I said, it's not perfect. We have our disagreements and challenges. But at the end of the day, we're stronger together."

They had been walking for a while now, and Articus noticed Wren starting to tire. "Here," he said, guiding her to a nearby bench overlooking a small park. "Let's take a break."

As they sat, their shoulders brushed, sending currents running through him. Articus tried to focus on the children playing on the swings in front of them, but he was acutely aware of Wren's presence beside him.

He couldn't help but notice how petite she was next to him, her slender frame belying the resilience he knew she possessed. A few strands of her chestnut hair had escaped her loose ponytail, framing her face and softening her usually guarded expression.

"You know," Wren said after a moment, her voice soft, "I never thought I'd say this, but... I'm starting to see the appeal of pack life."

Articus turned to look at her, trying not to appear too eager. "Oh?"

She nodded, her eyes still on the playing children. "The sense of community, the support system... it's something I never really had growing up. Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, turning to meet his gaze, "my parents did their best. But it was always just us against the world."

His heart ached for her. Without thinking, Articus reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry the rogues had to go through that, Wren. No one should have to face the world alone."

For a moment, he thought she might pull away. But then her fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. They sat like that for a while, hand in hand, watching the world go by.

Eventually, they continued their tour. Articus showed her the community garden, where pack members grew vegetables and herbs to share. Wren seemed particularly interested in this, asking questions about the different plants and how the system worked.

"You know," he told her as they walked between the neat rows of greenery, "if you're interested, you could have a plot here. Many find gardening therapeutic."

Wren looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I... I might like that, actually. I've never really had the chance to grow anything before."

The idea of Wren putting down roots there, even in this small way, filled Articus with a warmth he couldn't quite explain.

As they neared the edge of town, Articus heard the sound of music drifting on the breeze. Wren perked up, her head tilting in curiosity.

"What's that?" she asked.

Articus grinned, realizing what day it was. "Come on, I'll show you."

He led her down a winding path to a clearing where a group of pack members had gathered. Some were playing instruments—guitars, drums, even a fiddle—while others danced or simply sat and enjoyed the music.

"We do this every week," Articus explained as they found a spot to stand. "It's a chance for everyone to relax, socialize, share their talents."

Wren watched the scene with wide eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's... lovely," she said softly.

As they stood there, listening to the music, Articus found himself swaying slightly to the rhythm. Without thinking, he held out his hand to Wren. "Want to dance?"

She looked at his outstretched hand, then up at his face, uncertainty clear in her eyes. For a moment, he thought she would refuse. But then, slowly, she placed her hand in his.

Articus led her into the group of dancers, finding a space among the swirling couples. Gently, he placed his other hand on her waist, and they began to move to the music.

At first, Wren was stiff, her movements awkward. But as the song progressed, she began to relax, following his lead more naturally.

The warm light of the setting sun cast a golden glow on her skin, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheekbones and the graceful line of her neck. Despite the hardships she had faced, there was an innate elegance to her movements.

By the time the music ended, they were both slightly out of breath, and there was a flush to Wren's cheeks that Articus found utterly captivating.

"Thank you," she said softly as they made their way back to the edge of the clearing. "I can't remember the last time I danced."

Articus smiled, resisting the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome. You're a natural, you know."

Wren ducked her head, but not before he caught the pleased smile on her face.

They had circled back toward his house now, and Articus realized they had been out for hours. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "We could grab something to eat if you'd like."

Wren hesitated, then nodded. "That would be nice, actually."

Articus led her to a small café near the edge of town. It was a cozy place, with outdoor seating overlooking a picturesque lake. They settled at a table, and he couldn't help but notice how the setting sun made Wren's skin glow.

As they looked over the menus, Articus stole glances at her. She seemed more relaxed now, some of the tension from earlier melting away. It made his heart ache, knowing what she had been through and wishing he could erase all the pain and hardship from her past.

Their food arrived—a hearty stew for him and a colorful salad for Wren. As they ate, the conversation flowed more easily than it had before. They swapped stories about their childhoods, carefully avoiding the more painful topics.

"So there I was," Articus said, grinning at the memory, "covered head to toe in mud, trying to explain to my mother why I thought it was a good idea to chase a rabbit down its burrow."

Wren laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that made his heart skip a beat. "Did you at least catch the rabbit?"

He shook his head ruefully. "Not even close. But I did learn an important lesson about knowing when to admit defeat."

As Articus listened to Wren share a story about her first attempt at shifting, he found himself captivated by her quick wit and dry humor. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the animated gestures she made as she talked—he could watch her for hours.

At one point, Wren laughed at something he said, and the sound was like music. He realized he had been staring and quickly looked down at his food, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

As the meal wound down, a comfortable silence fell between them. Wren gazed out at the lake, lost in thought. The fading sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to spun gold. His fingers itched with the desire to run through those soft strands.

"Articus?" Wren's voice pulled him from his reverie.

"Hmm?"

She turned to face him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for today. For showing me around, and... well, for everything, I suppose."

His heart swelled at her words. "You're welcome, Wren. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, her smile widened just a fraction. "So, tell me... what's the craziest thing you've ever done as Alpha?"

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you..."