The Ripple Effect

“Hey, Mr. Layabout! We washed your clothes.”

I bolted upright, throwing my clothes off of my face. Ah, what a wonderful way to wake up: smacked in the face by my own pants! I growled at the disagreeable woman, but she just rolled her eyes at me, her mouth hanging open slightly. That hand of hers was, as usual, pressed firmly against her hip. Her stance was wide, not at all like the women of my old pack.

While she mocked me, I took the moment to assess her more fully. This woman was not scrawny or frail in the least; that much was obvious. Her frame was fuller, particularly her hips and thighs. But it wasn’t fat—it was a more defined frame. This woman was no stranger to training, if her tight ponytail and combat boots were any indication.

Her jeans were torn at the knee, with a dagger holster wrapped around her right thigh. Her shirt appeared to be makeshift as well. It had once been a collared long-sleeve blouse, but now it was torn to a midriff shirt with the collar torn slightly just above her chest, revealing a somewhat antique heart-shaped locket. One sleeve remained intact, but the other was torn off at the elbow. And bandages were wrapped around a larger chunk of her arm and all the way to her wrist.

The necklace was seemingly the only girly thing about her, especially considering the engraving on her right hip that peeked out from beneath her jeans. It looked like...the etching of a raging fire? It certainly hadn’t been professionally done, as it looked agitated. There was also an obvious scar on her right cheek, which had been stitched inappropriately and left to mark her skin more permanently.

My heart softened a bit. This woman... Surely she had reason to hate me. Someone had mistreated her. And by her insults of me as a man, it was surely a male who had hurt her.

“Does it hurt?”

Her eyes bolted to me, and her cheeks reddened. She reminded me of Zeya, then, as she showed me that even the hardiest of creatures were still at least somewhat soft on the inside.

But then she glowered at me, and her face scrunched up, horribly distorting her decent face into a...gorilla mask of sorts. It was not her best look...

“What are you talking about!” she snapped, placing both hands on her hips and widening her stance further to belittle me. I immediately regretted the question, and I sunk into myself.

“Your...Your hip. It looks infected.”

“What do you expect? A pretty carving?” she spat, snarling at me. “The artist wasn’t thinking about sanitation when he did it!”

“Who did it, then?”

She hesitated, her hard face faltering for only a second.

“You’re not my therapist,” she decided before turning her back to me and storming out. Her footsteps echoed throughout the halls until a door slammed.

“I didn’t say I was,” I mumbled under my breath, sighing as I threw the blanket off of me and grabbed my clothes from the floor. What an uncouth woman...

“Papa! You’re awake!” Zeya shouted, suddenly ramming into my stomach.

I suppressed a groan as the stitches in my back gave way slightly, but the little girl hardly noticed as she beamed up at me. She was wearing her sundress, and she looked beautiful. But those raggy bandages on her knuckles just made me chuckle. A little lady indeed.

“Good morning, my love,” I cooed, gathering the tiny thing into my arms to kiss her cheek sloppily.

“Disgusting!”

I chortled as she squirmed out of my grasp and dropped before me. But she cast me a shy look before wrapping her arms around my waist, her cheek pressed to my stomach.

“Papa, Miss Eliana acts all tough, but... I heard her crying last night.” I wanted to hate the woman, but Zeya kept humanizing her! “She wouldn’t answer the door, but I know she was. Can’t you try to get along with her? At least while we’re here.”

“I am trying,” I protested. “She—”

“This is a girl pack, Papa.” And suddenly the pieces fell into place. “Try harder.”

Then she skipped out of the room, leaving me to my own devices. A heavy sigh befell my lips. A female pack, huh? Obviously this Eliana was one of their warriors. Probably even a Captain.

I jumped into my shorts and shirt quickly, in a rush to head after Zeya. The little girl was a magnet to trouble, and I didn’t want to give her the time to find some. But as I stepped out of the guest room, I found myself in the middle of four hallways. Fantastic.

I immediately hated the architect of this maze.

With no better options, I headed left. My steps echoed around, rather loudly, and I soon realised it must be a defense mechanism. But... I had not heard Zeya approach me.

My little assassin.

“Zeya!” I hiss-whispered, but my voice still echoed off of the halls so loudly that I cringed. “Zeya! Where are you?”

“Oh! You must be the rogue Ellie found. But you don’t look much like a ‘filthy stray.’”

I growled at the description; but seeing no better options, I turned to the woman leaning against the wall. She was wearing tight jeans and boots, much like Eliana the Pain wore—only hers weren’t ripped. Her shirt, however, was ripped and hardly covered anything at all, especially with the tear down the middle. She straightened upright, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Actually, my name is Luca, Miss,” I corrected her, sighing. “Have you seen my daughter?”

The woman smiled, and she started blinking furiously. I tilted my head. Was she having a seizure?

“Are you alright?” I asked, leaning closer.

“I’m fine! It’s just, it’s been a while since we had a newcomer around here,” she said, but it was more like a breath. Maybe she had a cough? If she was sick, I didn’t want to bother her. “Luca, was it?”

I stared at the hand that was now on my chest. I smiled, quirking an eyebrow before taking a step back. “Yeah, Zeya and I are just passing through. Have you seen her?”

The woman scowled, but then she sighed.

“Yeah, she went outside,” she scoffed, jabbing her thumb in the direction behind her. But then she crossed her arms over her chest.

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell this poor woman that her poise of choice was causing her...assets to all but jump out of her little shirt? I quickly looked away, smiled, and thanked her before hurrying on.

“If you need a tour, just come find me!” she called. “I’ll be right here when you need me!”

I just yelled a thanks before hurrying on. Were all the women of this place so strange?

“Zeya!” I called once more as I emerged outside.

All of the women in the market immediately turned to look at me. There were a few males sprinkled about the area, but they just gave me a strange look. But the look was kind of...apologetic—like the look a rabbit would share with his comrades if he knew a wolf was approaching.

I continued on in search of the little pain in my butt, ignoring the stares. I felt entirely uncomfortable... Sure, back when I was Alpha-in-waiting I was used to attention, but this was different. Harsh interrogations and grueling fights were nothing, and I hardly batted an eyelash at the confrontation. But this was really, really uncomfortable.

It was of my knowledge that I wasn't a male model by any means, but I had not thought I was so ill-figured that an entire pack would stop to stare and laugh at me. I shrunk into myself and scanned the area even more quickly, wanting nothing more than the little girl who could make me forget the spinning world around us.

But not even Zeya could make me ignore this new revelation. I mean, obviously Lorena and Sophie had plenty of reason to reject me, if an entire pack took only two seconds to see that something was wrong with me.

I just wish I knew what that "something" was...