May I Speak Now?

The awkward silence stretched.

Though Nyell kept a straight face, he was as astonished as his fellow tribe members. The White Moon Tribe might have been known for its numerous and powerful shamans, but their chief being one was new. They either concealed it purposely or didn't see the need to spread the word. Either way, it floored the Black Moon tribe.

Shamans were respected but ostracized. They could contact the gods or even enter into a contract with them and connect with the spirits, something the common werewolves couldn't do. This was awe-inspiring but also fear-inducing.

On the other hand, shamans were physically weak and couldn't be born Alpha, the natural leader of werewolf tribes/packs.

Werewolves traditionally lived by the law of the jungle: they followed the strongest warrior, submitting themselves to the mightiest Alpha in their group. In the Black Moon tribe, it was Corriel.

Nyell was also born as an Alpha. Even though he was young, he was already more powerful than his father. The only reason why Nyell hadn't become the chief yet was due to his age and the elders deeming him unfit to lead their tribe. They might have named him the chief already had he not been such a thorn in their sides. Too bad Nyell didn't care about their oh-so-wise advice, nor was he in a hurry to become the chief.

"I didn't know shamans could become chiefs…" Someone finally muttered, breaking the silence.

"Sorry to break it to you," Allen smiled, his eyes glowing eerily, "but shamans can become the chief in my tribe. I hope it doesn't bother you."

"No," Corriel hurriedly spoke before anyone said anything rude, "not at all."

"We do need a shaman right now," Nyell added with a smirk, "so it serves us well."

Allen's smile grew deeper, sending a shiver running down people's spines. No one dared to comment. If this man could pledge to the gods by using a few mere words, cursing them should be as easy. Usually, an oath required a complex ceremony, yet this man didn't need it. Not only could he pledge for himself, but he could also pledge for others without their consent. As a result, Layla and Myrven had been caught in their chief's shenanigan.

Nyell trailed behind Allen as he leisurely walked along the edge of the village. He was observing the different paths vanishing into the jungle. He circled the settlement twice, then stopped before the entry of one particular path. It was narrow and gloomy. He stared at it briefly before glancing over his shoulder at Nyell.

"What's at the end of this trail?"

"A ceremonial and memorial cave."

"Hmm."

Allen hummed, squinting his eyes. He seemed to think about something before starting to venture into the jungle trail. Myrven and Layla followed behind, and so did Nyell. It was only the four of them, as Nyell had forbidden his noisy sister to tag along. She had thrown a tantrum, wanting to accompany them and stay with Myrven. Corriel had to step in, reminding the girl that she was under house arrest. She wanted to sneak out? Good. But she had to live with the consequences.

"It's quite quiet without your sister around," Allen said after a few minutes of silence. "I had grown used to her chirping. Maybe you should have allowed her to come with us?"

"Do you want Myrven's ears to fall off?" Nyell scoffed. "She's walking around and all, but she did twist her ankle yesterday."

"Yes, I noticed. What happened?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Nyell clicked his tongue. "I don't want to make small talk with you, so could you shut up if it's not about the official reason you're here?"

Allen pouted but did as told and shut his mouth. He didn't want to antagonize his destined mate just yet. Thus, Allen indicated to the man to pass before him by tilting his head. He wanted him to show the way.

They ventured further inside the jungle in silence. The cave was about an hour away from the village. Although the trail was often travelled, it was still uneven and steep. Roots lay here and there while pointy rocks emerged from the ground. People had to keep their eyes down to see where they walked, or they would stumble.

It took Nyell some time to notice, but Myrven and Layla had distanced themselves from him and Allen. The aides acted as if they were lovebirds who needed some private time. Of course, it got on Nyell's nerves. Only, he didn't want to show it, or else it would be admitting that being alone with Allen was bothering him.

Eventually, Allen spoke again.

"Nyell—"

"Does it concern the disappearance cases?"

"No, but—"

"Then shut up."

Nyell was barely done speaking when Allen grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his chest. His back crashed onto the man's body, their heads almost colliding, thanks to their similar heights. Allen passed an arm around his waist, holding him against his chest. Nyell felt like a fire had been lit where their bodies touched, and he tensed.

"What the actual—"

Before Nyell could finish his sentence, bony spikes fell from the sky, stabbing where he had been standing a moment ago and embedding themselves deeply into the ground. He had been so lost in thought, thanks to his destined mate being close and making his stomach form knots, that he hadn't sensed the danger.