King Micajah

t h i r t y - f o u r

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t h i r t y - f o u r

The next four months were chaotic.

Winter had blossomed into spring. The air was warmer, fresher. The sun had come out of it's hiding, and spent its day looming over the world, high in the sky. Flowers began to peak, painting the landscapes with an array of bright colours, ranging from the brightest yellow to the darkest blue. The grass tinged with a bright green and flourished across the moor lands. It would've been a beautiful sight to enjoy.

Except it wasn't. It couldn't be when war overtook everything.

The first two months were tough, because everything was so unpredictable. They dealt with spreading resources across all allies, and trying to attempt achieving peace, all of which didn't avail. The rebelling wolves were adamant in trying to take the King down.

Over the last sixty days alone, there had been a total of eighty attacks all over the country. All were instigated by the rebelling wolves, and all were lost by them. The monarch and it's allies hadn't lost one battle, but many wolves had fallen. This war would definitely cause a decrease in population numbers across the entirety of the kingdom.

Improvement was happening though, in very slow motion. The first fifty attacks, the rebelling wolves refused to submit and all were killed or severely injured. The last thirty was mixed – willpower was wavering, and now more wolves submitted rather than giving their lives. They were all currently imprisoned at the moment, but Micajah would deal with that punishment when this war was over.

The monarch and it's allies were getting tired. It was exhausting, for some days would have more than one attack, at different packs. And as the attacks were taking place all over, rather than just the monarch's grounds, Micajah and his men were rarely home. And although Adah would want to be on the frontlines too, they couldn't leave their pack alone, without a ruler, in circumstances that were frightening.

So, Adah stayed in the palace, most of the time alone. Micajah and his men would normally camp out in the southern packs, as they were the ones being attacked the most, and the close neighbouring of packs which meant it was easier to move from one to the other.

Adah wouldn't see Micajah for days at a time, and every time he left, it just hurt worse. They never spoke about it directly to each other, but they could just feel their wolves longing, aching for their other half. The bond was tense between the both of them, but during these times they couldn't really think about it. Both the King and Queen were incredibly busy, wearing down by the day.

Every time Micajah did come home, it was blissful. They'd share one night, just being Adah and Micajah, just being with each other in every way possible. Their bond had grown somewhat stronger through these circumstances, not only as they've now mated fully, but because their time together was precious. They made sure they were careful – not one of them wanted to bring a pup up together whilst war broke free, and there was no telling how long it would last.

They grew incredibly close with the few nights they could steal away together, lathered in affection and kisses, and conversations both were willing to sacrifice the night's sleep for. It made their time together worthwhile, but it made the goodbyes harder. They weren't the only mates having to do this either.

Adah obviously couldn't help but worry about everything, about her mate and her wolves, but she couldn't afford that mindset when other wolves needed her. She was incredibly busy, trying to maintain all the wolves under her watch, trying to maintain peace whilst rage broke outside of these walls.