I belatedly remembered I still had Dan Lion's book with me, so I read it. I didn't mean to. At first, I just wanted to flip through it and check the content page in hopes my lucky sense of direction would bring me to the chapter where Grandpa Bell left off.
I wasn't sure what I was looking for. It wasn't like there would be a chapter entitled, "The Cliffhanger where Grandpa Bell left Sam hanging at".
Come to think of it, the chapter might not even exist in the book. Dan just didn't seem like the kind of man who would kiss and tell in a biography. Bell was probably telling from some juicer TV drama spin off.
My eyes landed on the line slotted in the bottom half of the content page, "Chapter 27 - The Next 20 Minutes."
No way right?
I flipped to the page and no… it wasn't anything that happened in the bedroom, so never mind. (I was disappointed too). But I had to say, the book was really well written. I ended up reading the chapter - even all the boring parts describing the scenery and land divisions.
Then I flipped back to the first chapter because I wanted to read the the chapters in sequential order. I didn't want to miss a thing. Even his explanation of the political balance between the different packs and human and wolf powers felt more like reading page six gossip than actual political commentary. I could see how it was a best seller.
Yes, it was the autobiography of Dan Lion, but it was also a peek into the lives of those he rubbed shoulders with - and Dan Lion had rubbed shoulders with many very interesting people.
The first part of it felt like I was reading a real Lycan legend, but with a modern spin. Dan Lion painted the most amazing world with his words. The second half became like a fanfiction of my own wolves living in that amazing world. There were a lot of familiar names making special appearances in the later half of the story and it was fun to read about how they had changed or not changed at all.
I made it through two thirds of the book when Night Forest's Packhouse came into view. It was a long ride and we were finally here. It had also been a completely uneventful ride if we didn't count the typhoon when we left home.
Even the stop at the Underground was very uneventful. The only mildly interesting thing that happened was that the truck beds were full of water. When we opened up the back, it emptied out on the cement floors… so we left a mess of large puddles for the warriors on duty at the base to mop up.
The bikes were too wet and had to be wiped down before our motorbike escorts could move out. I took the chance to stretch my legs.
"Don't leave the hanger on your own, Sam." Ben told me before returning his attention to his screen. Auto-translation, "Let me know if you're leaving because I'm on duty and need to follow you."
I had better things to do! I returned to my reading in the car. It was enough for Ben to raise a brow, but he came over and stood in front of the open car door to attend his phone... Like just in case I should slip away when he wasn't looking.
I didn't think I needed a bodyguard, but whatever. I was too busy reading about Dan Lion's POV of "Grand King River and his lovely Grand Queen" and Snow Moon Kingdom.
The way Dan Lion described his introduction to Savy! It was like he met the elven queen. I wished I could see it... The ivory white velvet dress and golden embroidery down her bodice. Yeah, I bet future Savy must have been a sight to behold!
His description of the Ice Heart Castle seriously stoked me. Like a frosted glass palace, with towers and ramparts this way and that. Where there was no electical line because the light and warmth were all in the walls. It sounded very magical and Dan Lion included a local folklore of how the Great Teacher once lost his true love. In his grief, he left the Colored Mountains, but his heart pained him still.
Eventually, when he could no longer bear the pain, he took out his heart and buried it in the ground. And that was the seed that grew into a tower and over the centuries spread out into a castle.
This was a ridiculous story because said Great Teacher, Alpha Gunter was alive and well. I was quite sure his heart was in his chest where it should be...
Oh.
Alpha Gunter was a Tyger. I instinctively touched where Bell's heart stone rested under my shirt. Oh. Was Ice Heart Castle grown out of a Tyger's heart stone?
Omo.
But wait, didn't Alpha Gunter fall in love with a blue wolf when he came to the plains... so he had another lover before that? And what if Alpha Gunter Donovan was the same Donovan Tyger who mated the sister of the the vampire queen... It seems the Great Teacher should also write his autobiography, and he should definitely kiss and tell. Muahahaha.
Ah, I was doing it again. I smiled ruefully at myself. It was just a story... why did I think any of it really happened? I wasn't a puppy anymore.
Still, I renewed my desire to one day travel to Snow Moon Kingdom and see this Ice Heart Castle, and touch the glowing walls and hear the white stone sing.
"Sam, whatever you're dreaming, snap out of it." Said my very rude beta, "We're here."
It was too bad Night Forest didn't have castles.
As our convoy pulled up Night Forest's very long porch, I could tell Night Forest was expecting important guests. Their warriors were lined up along the entrance. Our wolves came out to meet our car, the navy blue jackets a stark contrast against Night Forest's tan colored warrior coats.
Night Forest was far more traditional and formal than Night Leaf on any day. Their warriors had 8 different variations of uniform depending on the season, level of formality, and time of the day. I couldn't imagine such a thing back home - like the fact that our warriors came today fully geared from head to toe in standard issue was our most formal in any time or season.
There were very few surviving packs that were as traditional as Night Forest. Snow Moon was one, and a few other smaller packs in the White Packlands. Some of the richer (more pretentious) packs would fashion their customs to imitate the old packs. You know who you are, ahem, Silver Mountain and Glorious Lorents.
Hahaha. Okay, maybe Henry's Silver Mountain was authentically old, but they were historically a den of thieves and spies… not aristocratic lycans. If they had continued their REAL tradition, their warriors wouldn't be wearing fancy uniforms. They would be wearing… actually, I had no idea. What uniforms did thieves and spies wear (that would not visibly give them away)? James Bond tuxedos? Maybe they were more like ninja… but really, how would someone in a full tux or ninja costume blend in anywhere these days?
Anyway, Night Forest was the real deal. From their hillside cemetery where dead heroes were buried to guard duty forever along the pack borders, to the original hall for the departed where the ceremony of the departed was held. The fire here had been kept burning from the very first ceremony. (Ours was put out after every ceremony).
The wolves who left the mountains to chase what could have been.
Grandma Luna's pack were the descendants of the first wolves from the Colored Mountains, Grandpa Alpha's pack were the descendants of the first wolves born in the mountains. The original black wolves.
The ones who seek the changes that yet could not be seen.
When their packs merged during the Great War… I wonder what change they were seeking? What did they want and did they get it? Hahaha, I think reading Dan Lion's book must be getting into me.
"Our greetings to Night Leaf's Alpha Princess!" The warriors greeted in unison the moment I stepped out of the car.
Wait, was I the VIP?
Ben pushed, I mean guided, me forward. I very nearly returned the warriors greeting with a bow, but I did not. Wolfgang would have been proud of me.
"Good morning." I said instead with my automated wide smile for whenever I felt caught in a social situation I didn't know how to get out of.
"Our loyalty to the Alpha Princess!" The blue warriors who came out to meet us refused to lose to their host. Wolfgang would be proud of them too.
"Yo!" My newly arrived wolves yelled and punched the air in response. Even my betas.
Yeah, because we were traditional like that.
If they meant to throw off our host warriors, they completely succeeded. Oh well, barbarians would be barbarians. It was nice how some things never changed.
I think it was obvious that my ancestors were chasing a fool's dream - there will be no end to what could have been, and no matter how hard you run, the changes yet to be seen would not come any quicker…
Unless you had a time travelling cat Omo. Who was the fool now?
And this was how I randomly and suddenly understood the lines my Grandpa Alpha had taught me since a puppy. Our true heritage as a Kingsley descendent hung on this secret. We were the wolves who chase what "could have been", could see what "yet could not be seen" because we had time travelling cats.
We were the wolves who could literally change the world. Oh wow. Talk about a family secret.
Was it always this way? Could it be that my very ordinary life growing up was only a façade to the deeply hidden layers of magic buried under history and legend? The thought made my heart skip a beat. I'm not sure what it was that struck me harder - the fact that magic was possibly very present out here in the plains, or that I had not realized it at all.
Wow, I was such a dumb pup.