How beautiful would she be, strong and wild

like the wolf she is,

yet gentle,

fluttering like a butterfly.

Not too difficult

a sight to imagine,

and surely not too difficult

a sight to see.

...

Valente put on his shoes, fumbling with the laces, as he tried to do them quickly to go play with his friends.

He wasn't too good with them, only just learned how to do it from his aunt Sylvia. She was his caretaker after he lost his father, Alpha Fridure, his uncle Beta Alstein, and his little cousin Sven in the attack on Fathilagt five years ago.

He was two years of age at the time.

He and his aunt were all that were left of the leading family, and she had decided to raise Valente as her own till he would come of age and take his title as Alpha. As caring and kind as she was, she was also just as agitated. Losing her mate, child and brother, all in one night made her that way.

As she watched Valente struggle with his laces, she bent down to help him.

"I can do it aunty!" Valente said to her.

"I know you can honey. Let me help you this once," she said to him.

"No, I'll do it myself," he said, taking a little longer, but finally getting the knot right.

He got to his feet and ran out to where his friends were waiting for him.

"He is his father's son," she thought, amused and laughing quietly to herself.

...

Valente and his friends had all assembled in an area near the training field of Fathilagt. The group consisted of all children around the ages five to twelve. Valente was a natural leader, and even at just age seven, he was usually the boy seen instructing his tiny counterparts what game to play and what the rules were.

He noticed one of his friends was missing.

"Where's Renee?" he asked the others.

As they shrugged and nodded their heads to show their lack of knowledge, a voice from behind him made him turn around.

"Wait, we're coming!" said Renee to him, pulling along her little sister Rayne, behind her.

Valente had never actually met Rayne before. He knew Renee had a younger sister, but she almost always stayed inside, and never came out to play.

He tilted his head to get a good look at her. He was absolutely fascinated by her.

Her hair was black, he had never seen anyone with hair like hers before. She wasn't as fair as the others in the pack, but her skin complimented her eyes that were also just as fascinating.

He didn't know what to call the color of her eyes, only that he'd seen a butterfly with wings that were just like that, outlined with black, in the forest that surrounds his home.

"Sorry I'm late, Val. I had to force mum to let me take Rayne with me today," Renee said, pulling her sister in front of her, as if showing her off to the crowd.

"Everyone, meet my baby sister, Rayne. Rayne, this is everyone," she said, lightly pushing her from the back for encouragement.

Valente noticed her reluctance.

He held out his hand to her.

"Come on, let's play!" he said to Rayne.

That was the first time she looked up to see him. And she probably didn't realize that this smiling face, the one she saw right now, would forever be etched into her mind.

She was the youngest in the group, and was hesitant to even come here, let alone take Valente's hand. But there was something about his smile that gave her comfort, so she took it. Valente's smile grew wider as he gripped her tiny hand a little tighter.

Valente looked at the warriors training at the field in a distance.

An idea resounded in his mind.

"Let's fight like them," he said to everyone, only to hear cheers from the boys and groans from the girls in response.

"Why can't we just play hide and seek in the forest like usual?" asked Frida.

"Well because we always play that game and you always win!" said Jón, clearly annoyed.

"We'll fight in pairs, whoever falls to the ground first loses," Valente said. He hadn't let go of Rayne's hand, and he made her stand in front of him.

"You'll be my partner," he told her.

"Okay," Rayne replied, in a fairly timid voice.

Rayne had not the slightest clue what a fight with Valente would be like, because there was no way she could do those things the real warriors did. So she waited for him to make the first move.

Valente saw two warriors sparring in hand-to-hand combat.

He lifted his hand to Rayne's face, but instead of hitting her, he stroked her cheek softly, smiling a toothy grin while missing a few teeth.

"Your skin is soft," was all he was able to manage.

Rayne just stood there, watching the other children trying to push each other and falling on their butts, wondering if this is what the children call playing.

Rayne could hear her wolf, Imadis, telling her to fight Valente and win the game.

"But I don't know how," she said to Ima.

As her attention turned back to Valente, she noticed he was looking at her eyes intently.

"You can mindlink already? I thought it was a skill they'll teach us at school," he said, recognizing the way Rayne's eyes glazed over for just a second.

"No, it's Ima," she replied.

"Who's Ima?" he asked her.

"My wolf," she said, now a little shy at the way he looked at her.

Valente couldn't comprehend how this little girl could hear her wolf already, when he was yet to hear his.

He realized that she was different. In every way.

...

That evening when he went back home to his aunt Sylvia, he couldn't wait to tell her about Renee's sister.

"Her hair was black! It's nothing like Renee's or Rosa's and her eyes were so pretty!" he said to her.

Sylvia was quick to understand who her nephew was talking about, and a frown etched onto her face.

"And she can hear her wolf already aunty! How can she?" he asked his aunt, excited about the girl he just met.

"Valente, I need you to understand something about that girl," she said, kneeling down so they were at the same level and held his shoulders.

"What is it aunty?" he asked in response.

"The day she came into our lands was the day we lost everyone we loved. I don't know where she has come from, or what her purpose is to be here, but I have a strong feeling she is the reason your father is dead," Sylvia told him, her eyes now welling with tears.

A range of emotions ran through Valente's heart.

"You mean, Rayne killed Papa?" he asked her quietly.

Sylvia scoffed at the idea of trying to explain her anger at an infant to a seven-year-old.

But she did anyway.

"She is not from us. She doesn't belong here. She has brought with her a curse to our land. If she doesn't leave soon, we won't be safe for too long."