The Ripple Effect

"Wait... So you told me that you don't have a name."

The girl fiddled with the fraying tape on her knuckles as she whispered, "I lost it."

Puzzled, I asked, "How?"

She froze, and then her eyes bolted up to me.

"No!" Then she glanced back down, seemed to think for a minute, and smiled up to me nervously. "But I think I would like to find a new name."

I was a bit startled by her almost immediate refusal, but the story must be very painful so I had no choice but to let it go.

"Do... Do you know of any names, Mr. Luca?"

I smiled apologetically to her.

"Love, I haven't had any reasons to think of any names."

I'm sure we could have come up with something better than Jonah and Sera, Iah barked bitterly, obviously choosing to dwell on Sophie once more.

"Oh." The little girl looked down, obviously disappointed.

I groaned inwardly. If I had the blessing of a pup, what would I have named her?

"What about Seraphina?"

"Too girly."

"You are a girl."

She shot me a sour look, and I smiled despite myself.

"Annie? ...Aria? Xela? ...Thomas?"

"Now you're being stupid," she grumbled. "I'm a girl! But I don't want it to be weak and girly."

I cut her an exasperated look.

"So edgy? Okay... Maeza? Kat? Zeya? Lula—?"

"Zeya... I... I like it. It's kind of like...a warrior. And...a girl. If warrior princesses did exist, I think they would be called Zeya."

"Is that why your hands are all wrapped up, Zeya? You're a warrior?"

She glanced down at her hands before meeting my gaze.

"Papa was always proud when I was a warrior, not when I was a princess."

"Is... Is your father dead?"

A look of absolute loathing crossed her once gentle face as she hissed, "No, he's not."

"Then...why aren't you with—"

"Stop!" she shouted, pushing me away and making me stumble for a moment. Zeya dropped to her knees with her hands over her ears and her eyes slammed shut as she chanted, "No! No, no, no! Stop! Just stop!"

"Zeya!" I screamed, trying to be heard over her shouting, but I had to resort to grabbing her hands and pulling them from her ears.

"No! You can't make me! No!"

"I'm not making you do anything!" I shouted, pulling her to her feet despite her squirming and wriggling. "We don't have to talk about it if you don’t want to talk!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" she confirmed, still yelling.

"Then we won't," I promised, reaching over to brush a rushing tear from her cheek. "We won't."

"I don't like Papa," she lamented, her shoulders sagging. "He's bad."

"He isn't allowed near you, then," I told her, taking her hand before she could think about running again. "Now, do you know of any packs that aren't going to attack us? In my current state, a fight would not be my favourite choice."

She thought for a moment.

"There's a pack a little east of here that are only white wolves."

"Perfect," I sighed with relief.

The Crescent Pack was an excellent option! My pack—I mean, Orion's pack—has great relations with them thanks to my father's decision to give them aid when they caught wind of a rogue attack. I just had to drop a few names, and they wouldn't give us any trouble!

"Hopefully they'll let me have some clothes, too," Zeya grumbled, her cheeks puffing out in adorable distaste.

I grinned down at her, and her face soured even more.

"What!"

"You are such a girl."

Her default response was to knock me in the shoulder, and it elicited a groan from the base of my stomach.

"Damn, Zeya—that's one hell of an arm!" I bemoaned, rubbing my ache. "You weren't kidding about being a warrior!"

She beamed up at me as if I had just called her the most beautiful girl on the planet. It saddened a part of me, to know that this girl had basically been the daughter that a man received when he had clearly wanted a son.

But the other part of me said that we would find this girl a home and family that would give everything to have her, and then it would all be okay.

"State your business, rogues!"

Ah, I had never been more delighted to hear that sentence in my life.

I whirled around quickly, a stupid grin slapped onto my face.

"You're with the Crescent Pack, right?"

The patrolman seemed a bit perplexed, but he nodded.

"Ah, well, you see, I'm from the Trinity Pack—son of the past Alpha Stephen, brother of the current—so I was hoping you could help me out here!"

The man stared at me as if I had grown a second noggin on my shoulders, so I sighed and whirled around to show him the state of my back.

"As you can see," I said loudly, pointing to the gaping hole by my spine, "I am currently en route to bleeding my way to a bloody death, and I would prefer if I did not see this to the end. Can you help a fellow Trinity-Crescent Oath brother out?"

"You're crazy," Zeya grumbled under her breath as she followed me with our personal escort (who was now quite pale and panicked to say the least). "And your pack must be equally crazy."

"You have no idea," I murmured back, my heart dropping into my stomach.