The Alpha King’s Mate (The Alpha Series Book 4)
The Alpha King’s Mate: Chapter 4

The following day I climb a tree near my cave and watch a woman holding a wicker basket. She kneels on the ground, plucks a few mushrooms from the soil and puts them in her basket. There goes my dinner. The woman, unaware of my presence, wanders off, and my stomach rumbles. I’m so hungry.

I reluctantly follow the woman, knowing I need food. After a few hours, we reach the edge of the forest, and I watch the woman, with her basket, walk through a grassy field toward a small hill. I freeze at the forest’s edge, admiring the clear blue sky, the grassy field, and the small hill ahead.

‘I’ve never left the forest before. I need to know where they’re taking all my food,’ I tell Ember.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the field of grass and exhale. I had been nervously holding my breath.

‘Okay, that wasn’t so bad,’ I tell Ember. Ember steps forward. ‘No, Ember. You must stay here. If anything goes wrong, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. Go home to our cave. I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise,’ I tell him.

I cuddle him and kiss him on the head.

‘Off you go, little one.’ I watch Ember run deep into the forest, back to our cave.

After walking across the field, I reach the top of the small hill and crouch down when I spot a busy village with market stalls and many people. The men wear tunics and breeches in assorted colours, styles and fabrics. Some of them wear velvet capes. Some even wear silver armour and daggers under their cloaks.

The women wear long gowns and cloaks or shawls, and their hair is styled in braids or buns. Some women wear strange headdresses made of feathers and flowers. I was surprised by one lady. She may as well have stuck a whole peacock on her head.

I can’t stand naked in front of everyone – it doesn’t seem right, and I don’t want to draw any attention to myself. Covering one’s body with clothing seems like the acceptable thing to do.

Creeping closer without being seen, I hide behind a large barrel and a wooden wall covered in parchments. There are small symbols and scribblings on these sheets of paper. I don’t know what they say because I can’t read. I look around and spot a stall selling different garments.

I snatch two items I can easily reach from a wooden table and run back behind the wooden wall covered in parchments. I step into the roughly-sewn brown dress that reaches my ankles and push my slender arms into the sleeves of an olive-green velvet cloak that touches the ground. I fasten the clasp over my collarbone and pull the hood over my head. These clothes will do just fine. No one can see my face, and I’ll blend in perfectly with these.

I step out into the hustle and bustle of the market, blending in with the crowd perfectly. All the talking, trading, and haggling is quite foreign to me. I’ve never heard so many human voices all at once. Older women sit on wooden crates gossiping away, while young children run in groups after stray ducks, laughing, ignoring their parents who admonish them and demand they return to their sides. Adolescent girls giggle and gawp at groups of young men a distance away.

Many of the stalls sell fruit, seeds, herbs and mushrooms – products that have all come from my forest. Men in armour, presumably soldiers, fill wooden crates they are holding with these goods. A soldier shouts for all stall-holders to hear, and the market grows quiet. Only the barks of dogs and the quacks of the stray ducks can be heard.

‘By order of King Fenris! King Fenris orders everyone to donate half their food to their sovereign again. These donations will feed his soldiers when we go to war against Alpha King Damon.’

Most people in the crowd around me yell in protest, and it consoles me, knowing they feel how I feel, not having enough food to eat. So I watch on silently while crunching on an apple I pick from a stall.

‘We won’t have enough food for our children and ourselves if we have to keep giving it away to the soldiers!’ A mother of seven small children, who cling to her dress skirts, cries.

‘Either help support the war, and win, or don’t support the war and lose! I guarantee the first thing the werewolves will do if they win is rip your children apart, limb by limb, and eat them!’ The man shouts back in response to this woman’s pleas. I shudder at the thought of innocent children being ripped apart by werewolves.

The crowd let out gasps, knowing they have no choice but to put the food they have just bought into the crates for the soldiers. So this is why they’re taking food from my forest.

Turning, I accidentally bump into a stall, making a table wobble, and apologise to the stall-holder sitting on a barrel. He smiles and says, ‘Not to worry, darlin’. But, to my horror, he is selling fox pelts and some other extremely large furs from an animal I’ve never seen before.

Another man, standing beside me, also looks horrified by what the stall-holder is selling. It’s unexpected when this man purchases every large pelt the stall-holder has.

I instantly feel emotional, my eyes become teary, and my stomach churns. I think I’m going to be sick, so I plant my hand over my mouth and run away from the stalls and toward a row of cottages.