Chapter 33

Arthur returned after Blade and Rex had returned, but by then, she had already heard that there would be werewolves coming from other packs to help support Silver Armor’s patrol routes.

The thought made her nervous. She’d only met the werewolves who had chased them to the waterfall and the members of the Silver Armor pack. Would these people be nice or would they be horrible? Would they get along?

Would they piss Arthur off and make him lose control?

Her worries kept her awake late into the night. She tried to distract herself with work at the infirmary, but it didn’t work.

The day they were supposed to arrive, Daphne had slept in late. She woke up just before they were arriving and hurried to get ready and see them, stumbling into her clothes and cramming breakfast into her mouth as she left.

She exited their house and made it to the ridge overlooking the training grounds as a large group of unfamiliar werewolves approached the training grounds.

Blade and Rex stood with the rest of the able-bodied patrol members greeting them. Arthur was among them in his wolf form, his fur gleaming in the early morning light. He turned his head and flashed a toothy grin at her, all wolf’s teeth and joy. It made her shudder a bit, but she knew he meant no harm so she gave a tight smile back. His eyes widened in shock and he closed his mouth quickly, turning back to face the oncoming group of werewolves.

She bit back a giggle. It was kind of adorable the way he turned back as if he realized that his wolf mouth was full of sharp teeth wasn’t the most charming sight. He was making such an effort to earn his next stone. Who knew the ferocious fighter who had torn all those rogues to pieces and often lost his temper in battle could behave like a young man eager to earn a woman’s affections?

Arthur knew from experience that Blade wouldn’t be talking about patrol until they had gone through the basics of training. As Blade had said when he first joined the patrol, it took more than strength to win a battle. Arthur wasn’t completely in agreement with the statement, but he had learned that it took more than strength to win a battle and keep everyone alive.

Blade paired them up for training exercises as he looked over the group, “We’ll start with the basic movements then –”

“We’re just here to help you with your rogue problem,” one of the werewolves, Mike of the Milky River Pack, said. "We don't need training to deal with them."

Blade scoffed thinking about Arthur's reaction so many months ago.

I don't need orders to kill rogues.

While Arthur had somewhat proven himself to be a fighter who could work alone, he had gone through training just like the rest of the patrol and was better off for it. These werewolves probably weren't even half as powerful as Arthur. No matter what they thought, Blade knew better.

There was no way he would be able to trust his patrol with these wolves who would not follow him.

"Don't underestimate rogues, or you will pay for it." Blade said, firmly. "Fall in."

Several of them gave him skeptical glances and whispered, "They're just a few rogues."

"He says that, but I bet it's just because they are too weak!"

Someone snickered and a member of Sharp Armor growled, stepping forward. Blade gestured for them to keep silent as Daphne descended the hill to watch from nearby. Her face turned red and her shoulders drew up tight.

Blade could understand their anger. He had lost a lot of good friends in the last encounter. A majority of the survivors were still in the infirmary.

It was outright disrespectful to say such a thing, but fighting wouldn't do anything but make it worse. He stood by his orders for the patrol not to start disputes with the incoming werewolves no matter what happened.

They didn't need to make cooperation between packs falter when the rogues were becoming more of a threat by the day.

"Who just spoke?"

Blade tried not to wince at the cold burning fury in Arthur's voice.

He stepped out from the back of the patrol, golden fur gleaming and glaring at the werewolves. Arthur had learned how to hide his scent and had been doing so at Blade's behest, but he wasn't suppressing it any longer.

The wolves gasped as Arthur stepped forward and shifted in a swirl of light. Even in his human form, he looked dangerous: broad-shouldered and heavily muscled with a dark aura that seemed to wrap around him, wild and furious like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

Someone let out a shocked and frightened gasp, but no one answered Arthur's question.

Cowards. He'd known that before they had even arrived, but even cowards had to be held accountable for their actions.

He prowled towards Mike. The werewolves who had been speaking were from Mike's pack, insulting the brave and injured to justify their egos. Those same werewolves were afraid and trembling among the crowd.

"Arthur!" Blade yelled, his tone was full of warning, but Arthur didn't heed him.

It was one thing to try to be nice to the people who were coming to aid them. It was something different to allow them to insult them without reproach.

Mike stared at Arthur as he came closer.

"W-What do you want--?"

Arthur pulled his arm back and punched one of the werewolves behind Mike, sending him skidding across the ground. Before Mike, or anyone else could react, Arthur’s fist cracked the jaw of the other werewolf behind Mike. Everyone froze realizing what had happened as the two werewolves lay flat and unconscious on the ground. Arthur stood up straight. Though his expression was still tense, his body seemed to relax.

Mike gawked and glared at Arthur, "What the hell are you--"

His words faltered as Arthur turned on him, his eyes glowing red. Fear seized his breath and he froze like prey in the woods.

"Your packmates have the nerve to insult my patrol mates…" Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Don't you all at least have the courage to take responsibility for what you've said too?"

The members of the patrol were surprised that Arthur did this for them. They looked at Arthur in awe and gratitude, but Arthur's back was turned. It had been months since Arthur and Daphne had joined sharp Armor, yet Arthur had been outright suspicious of them since the first day and hadn’t seemed to drop his guard around them. It was oddly warming to hear him think of them as comrades and get offended on their behalf.

Slowly, he turned to Blade, "Since they do not want to train, we shouldn't waste our time. When the patrol starts in the afternoon, just let them follow."

He smirked, "It's not like we don't know where to send the bodies."

Blade considered it, looking between Arthur and the others before sighing and nodding. There wasn’t much he could do about it.

Many of the others seemed stunned. They didn't expect Blade to listen to anyone regarding the leadership of the patrol.

“Who is this blond man?” Someone asked. “Why can he act so recklessly?”

“You bastard!” Mike yelled, glaring at Arthur, “I—”

“We want to be trained.” A woman said, stepping forward from the group from the Golden Moon pack. Her eyes were calm as she inclined her head towards Arthur. “He does not speak for us.”

Blade recognized her as Rose, Tom’s daughter, and was a bit relieved that she was there. At the very least, he could trust her and her pack mates not to cause trouble so long as Arthur was around.

“Very well,” Blade nodded. “Those who want to train stay. Those who do not want to leave.”

Mike huffed, turning away from the group and leading a few others from the Milky River pack and several other smaller packs away. The werewolves from the Golden Moon pack fell into the partners that Blade organized and he began walking them through the training exercises and commands. Blade had a bad feeling about letting them walk away, but he ignored it. If they wanted to gamble with their lives due to their arrogance, he couldn’t stop them, and it would be a waste of time to try to change their minds.

Daphne clasped her hands together from her place overlooking the training grounds and worried her lip as the werewolves walked away. How would they face the rogues unable to cooperate? Didn't they know that the rogues were organized?

The number of casualties from the next encounter would be a great deal more than before and there was no guarantee that they would make it back in time for her to help.

She clenched her fists at her side and nodded her head.

Her decision was made.