**Author Note: Friends and readers! Thank you so, so much for the support and love given to Asta and Molaki! When I started writing Doe Eyed, it was for the WPC prompt that I first didn't think I had any time for. I had so little time for it I wrote a comment on the main page saying I was sad about it. Then I thought of *just the first chapter foreshadowing,* and it's spiraled into my first exclusive contract. With that said, this will be the last free chapter, and I so hope I see you on the ride for the rest of the novel! If you've enjoyed the novel to this point, please also consider reviewing it. Reviews give the novel more exposure, free to both you and me. Thank you so much again and I hope we don't disappoint!**
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Molaki knew his father would me mad, but the more he tried to dominate the elder wolf, the more rabid he had become. Molaki was higher ranked, which wasn't unusual at all in a pack this large. In a family unit with a harmony, this barely mattered, the small nuances throughout the day bringing small dominances for the elders, but large decisions, namely not antagonizing and threatening each other in the street, laid strictly at the feet of the dominating youngster.
But from what Molaki could see, his father had lost his damn mind. For the Talian shifter races, their human and animal forms were one in the same, not two separate forces. There wasn't any reason that the elder wolf in front of him would lose control, other than sheer anger towards his son and his offensive mate.
[As a Second in command of Lyko, I'm ORDERING you to STAND DOWN] Molaki snarled. His hackles were raised along the entire ridge of his spine, his shoulders rolled and head hunched down low, making him look nearly twice the size he actually was.
For most in the pack, that would be enough to at least start to submit. It was hard wired into the wolves, this order of dominance, and made them feel calmer and safe to know what was expected of them. Taking some of the decisions out of their own hands wasn't usually a bad thing to them, which is why, after the Tri decision to allow Asta to stay and be part of the community, nobody had protested or given Molaki a hard time. They didn't have to personally agree with it, but the decision was made. The Hierarchy had spoken.
But the elder wolf's yellow eyes had contracted into viper slits, and he reacted like the warnings and demands of his superior were flying right above his head. There wasn't even a shiver running through his body as though he was defying the orders as he prowled forwards towards his son.
Molaki knew, then, as he gripped the dirt and stood his ground, that blood was going to be shed. This was far more than a subordinate acting out of place; it was a wolf going rogue; a wolf that had been a known problem that stayed on the outskirts of being within Lyko's order as it was.
A wolf he didn't want to take out his frustrations on, but he may have to.
A male who had made life difficult for his mother with harsh words and even harsher criticism. A father who had tried to strip all the softness out of his son; all the small bits that had made him who he was, like his love of reading and navigation.
So as the elder wolf suddenly rushed forward with his jaws wide open, the irony of the fact that it was this male that had made Molaki as physically strong as he was, was not lost on the Second. Asta had not been wrong in her assessment of his home; if he had been left to his own devices, her fated mate may have been a homebody, a crafter, an explorer. It was the wrath of this older wolf that had toughened him into the protector and hunter that he was now.
Protector. That was the word he let ring in his years as Molaki reared up with another guttural snarl to clash tooth for tooth with Motoro. What he was about to do wasn't slaughter for the sake of bloodshed, but rather to protect - Asta, Saba, and anyone else his father would set his sights on in the future, considering he had shown his hand. Unless he submitted, he would be eradicated.
Molaki's training kicked into high gear, staying focused on his task, on his fight. That was the only thing that stopped him from faltering when he heard Saba start to growl and hiss in the brush behind him. He knew something was wrong, and they had met yet another threat, but his mission was to take down his own flesh and blood, Motoro, and then turn and make sure Asta and Saba was okay. It seemed counterproductive, but he knew for sure that Motoro would kill the doe if he got past him. Saba was going to have to handle herself.
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Saba had shifted with the elegance and swiftness that only the cougars possessed. The wolves had superior skills when it came to hunting together, the mountain lions' predisposition to live in solitude meaning they had lost the race as far as building societies, but nobody compared to the large cats' lithe movements, and moreover, they were far and above better equipped.
Dominance be damned, Erest was defying a direct order from the Tri, and when the grey wolf made his move towards Asta, Saba snapped her leash, sinking her teeth deep into his shoulder as she slammed him to the ground. Erest screeched at her, snarling and trying to wriggle out of her grasp.
[STAY THE FUCK DOWN] the cat hissed through her jaws, but it was no use. The fatal flaw of the different shifter species living together was that they didn't understand each other's language when in their beast forms, which is why the talents of the minority mountain lions were often overlooked for the ability of the wolves to pack up.
This was also why the usually smart and calculating Eres had underestimated Saba, never in his years really seeing how the cougars were superior individuals. Crouched over her prey, the tawny cat was flicking her tail violently, ears back, refusing to let go of her grip, even when a group started to gather, both in and out of their beasts.
Erest barked, snarled and pleaded, but the pack both knew Saba well enough to know she hadn't gone rogue like he was telling them, and had all seen a frantic deer crash through the main streets. Ahran and Lena pushed forward through the bodies, Lena throwing her weight onto Erest's neck and shoulders, making him help out.
"You can let go, Sab, I've got him."
Ahran took his cue from the more feisty Saba, all but standing on top of Erest's hind end so that he was immobilized.
[FUCKING. TRAITOR] the grew wolf snarled
Flicking her tail again, Saba's piercing eyes darted between Ahran and Lena, before releasing her vice grip on the wolf, who immediately started to bleed. She knew what she had been doing, though; if she wanted him deaf, she would have just shook him and shredded him with her claws.
Immediately both her and Erest shifted back, the male cursing and snapping his teeth even out of his wolf.
"Where's Asta," was the first breathless words out of Saba's mouth, as she wiped an arm across her face to get rid of the wolf's blood.
"She ran into the town square and found Lena," an elder woman's voice answered from in the crowd.
Saba sighed with relief, cursing under her breath again while looking down the struggling Erest, when the crowd suddenly sucked in a collective breath.
Molaki had stalked up behind her, in his human, and he was absolutely covered in fresh red blood.
Saba whirled around to meet his eyeline, their twin gold eyes locking in knowing. There was a brief moment years ago where Saba thought that maybe she was supposed to settle down with Molaki, and she had always thought about how his eyes were much more like those of a mountain lions in color than a wolves.
Either way, his expression matched his scent; Angry. Sad. Resolved. She knew before he even said it, that the blood was not his.