Prologue
A hush fell over the watchful crowd as the figures in the centre of the room met. Bets had been placed, and there was more than money riding on the outcome of the fight, there was honor.
But this was no boxing ring, the rules were unspoken, for there were none. And in that cavernous warehouse, set on all sides by stacks of crates and cargo, the cabal of watchful eyes peered from the darkness; a light from above catching the glistening skin of the two fighters.
The tournament had ran for over 500 years, the longest running of its kind, yet few had heard of it, only those few chosen were allowed membership. A thumping drum from the upper gallery slowly pounded as the fight finally began.
Both men knew the risks, no one entered that place without knowing that they might never walk out. The betting had been furious and fevered, for both fighters were evenly matched in weight and height. Towering over many of the watchers, they stared each other down, waiting for the first move.
That was the tell, who would be aggressive and who would be strategic. With a yell which pierced the air, one of the men finally lunged forward with his fists, but he swiped at the air, his opponent fast and nimble. He had backtracked quickly, waiting for the right moment. This man was a thinker, he would not blindly attack; no, he would anticipate and react.
The first blow was struck. A strike to the face from the more cautious of the two, spraying rain and blood in the dim light.
A snarl then came from the wounded man. A cracking, shifting sound echoed through the warehouse, and as it did a cheer of anticipation went up from the sidelines. The two fighters lunged at each other, eyes glistening gold, and as they struck and kicked, their speed showing the product of their preparation and training, foot soon turned to paw and fingers quickly splintered into claw.
It looked as though the more aggressive of the two was now dominating, but he was not. His opponent was waiting. He'd take a few hits, a few cuts to the chest from sharpened claws; he just needed to see that opening. That one subtle tell which would let him know: It was time.
Teeth were born, and the advantage was taken as the cautious fighter roared into action. A howl of pain and anguish split the night. Cheers and derision came from the crowd in equal measure, as the hairy body of a huge grey wolf lay motionless on the ground.
Only the victor now stood, tall, at least eight foot, snarling and brutal.
The referee stepped forward: "Your winner, and still champion, Gage!"
The hulking figure raised its hand in victory, and then stared at its opponent on the ground. Now a man, just a man…
* * *
Lacey stepped off the bus, the doors closing behind her with a hiss. Looking around, she thought to herself so this is the last place. She'd been running for three months, moving from town to town, city to city. But finally, the little money she had, had run out. She'd taken everything she could, but leaving in the middle of the night was not a decision she made with much foresight. Lacey just knew she had to get out. And now, with many hundreds of miles behind her, the sleepy little town of Wild Cove looked to be her final destination.
The last two years of her life had been a blur. She was only 18 years old when she met her husband, Miles. Even at such a tender age, she had been down on her luck. Her mother, her only surviving parent, passed away and it looked like Lacey might have to live on the streets. That was when she met Miles. He was older, in his 30s, and had the self-assurance which only comes with age.
Lacey had been enamoured by this, by Miles's confidence. He'd been loving, at least in the beginning, and it seemed at first as though Lacey's luck was turning. Miles was a millionaire, many times over in fact, promising to solve all of Lacey's problems in one caring swoop. And so, they wed. It was a fairytale, but all too often fairytales turn into a nightmare.
She first saw his cruelty a few months into the marriage. He grew cold, and soon she realised that what she was seeing was the real Miles. Up until then Lacey always thought her husband made his money in the steel industry, but it became clear that that was just another front. He was a criminal, running his own cartel of sorts. Over time, Lacey grew to fear him, especially considering that on more than one occasion Miles became handy with his fists.
After the third trip to the emergency room, Lacey decided that she would leave him. But she knew what type of man her husband was. He was spoiled, a bully, and above all else he valued face and reputation. It was important that people respect him, and that no one denigrate his name. Lacey knew that Miles would not tolerate a divorce, not even a trial separation. No, the only option left to her was to run. When she returned home from the emergency room for the third and final time, she quickly gathered a few of her things and what little money she had, and put this in a bag. She then opened her bedroom window and looked out into the night.
Growing up, life had been tough, and although she was leaving the comfort of a mansion, the luxury of money, she would embrace the difficulties of life over living like a prisoner in a marriage which had fractured beyond repair. Lacey climbed quickly down a drain pipe which terminated at the foot of the house. She then fled into some nearby woods, and did not look back.
Initially, she believed that she could rely on the kindness of a few friends to help her disappear. But soon she realised the lengths Miles would go to, to find his missing wife. After an altercation between one of Lacey's male friends and Miles, which ended with her friend being thrown headfirst out of a first-floor window, her greatest fears were confirmed. She could not put anyone she knew in danger, she'd have to flee until her trail went cold, if that was even possible.
After taking a train ride across the country as far as she felt was needed, she arrived at a small town. But even there, the insidious network of her husband reached out its corrupting fingers. Hired goons turned up, and quickly she was on the run again.
Lacey knew what her husband would do when he found her. He couldn't tolerate anyone knowing that she had left him, and so Lacey would either disappear or meet her end in a tragic accident. Miles would grieve openly, and then get on with his life, no doubt finding another wife to abuse, and quickly.
Just four days previous, Lacey had had to leave another hotel behind, she saw one of Miles's goons entering the building. Using what little money she had left, she jumped on a bus and finally found herself in Wild Cove. But all she had left in her pocket was enough money for a couple of nights in a rundown local hotel, and perhaps a little bit of food to keep going. And then what? She thought. She'd eventually be caught, and killed not long after; or she would have to hike into the wilderness which surrounded the town, hoping that somehow she could survive.
The town of Wild Cove was sedate. It only consisted of a few streets here and there, with a large main street cutting through the middle beset on all sides by family run stores and other shopfronts. Cars occasionally came through, and when passers-by did stop, they only did so to take in the view from the front of Wild Cove which looked out to the sea. There was a beautiful ruggedness to the place, as the forests in the area hemmed the town in to the coastline.
Lacey laughed herself, she'd never been much of a country girl. She'd always been one for the city, but looking at the rural landscape, there was something about it which spoke to her. Something which called to a primal side of her urbanised personality.
Wandering down the main street, Lacey saw an old rundown hotel. She entered it quickly, looking over her shoulder, half expecting to see one of Miles's men on her tail. A bell rang above her as she entered, and quickly an old scruffy man came round from his office at the back, standing behind the reception desk.
"Hello there, young Missy. How can I help you today?" He asked.
"I'd like a room if that would be possible?" Lacey said.
"Of course, that'll be $70."
Lacey was shocked at the price. "I'm afraid I don't have that amount of money, I only have $56, and was hoping some of that could be kept for dinner."
The old man eyed Lacey suspiciously. "Are you just passing through?"
"I'm not sure. Probably," Lucy answered hopefully.
"Well, your best bet is to take the bus over to the next town. It's a few hours away. You might be able to find something there which will meet your budget." The old man half smiled, and then disappeared back into his office.
Lacey was disappointed to say the least. There wasn't another bus until the next day, and by the looks of it that was the only hotel in the town. She wasn't sure if the old man just didn't want to help her, or perhaps he couldn't. Either way she was going to have to sleep rough for the night.
As the sun began to set on Wild Cove, Lacey found a small park, complete with a bench which would have to do for the night. She felt lucky that it was summer, had it been winter, she wouldn't have lasted longer.
But regardless of the season, she was still Going to be cold during the night. Lacey stretched out on the bench placing some clothes over her to try and preserve her body heat as long as she could. But it seemed that Wild Cove was intent on stopping Lacey from resting there.
"You can't sleep there, Miss," a voice said sternly.
Lacey opened her eyes to see the town police officer, staring at her disapprovingly. She tried to explain her situation, that she was just waiting for the morning bus, but the police officer seemed to have the idea that she was homeless, and that sleeping around in the open at night wasn't something that the town tolerated.
At first Lacey tried to explain that she wasn't homeless, until the realisation filtered through: that was exactly what she was. She gathered up her things, exhausted, strapped her bag to her back, and wandered out of the little park, deflated.
The sun was hovering on the horizon, soon it would be night. Lacey looked down the main street to the cusp of the town. The forest stood large and looming there. And as much as she didn't take kindly to the idea of sleeping outside, it seemed that there she might at least be left alone for a time to get some much-needed rest.
She wandered down the main street, crossing the road, and then saw a small dirt track leading off into the woods. She followed it, conscious of the fact that the police officer who had moved her along was still watching from down the street, ensuring that she didn't sleep anywhere else in the town.