Malrik’s Charm
Malrik’s presence in Crimson Fang was unassuming, almost out of place. Among towering warriors and imposing figures, his lean, wiry frame and slightly hunched posture made him easy to overlook. And yet, wherever he went, wolves paused—not out of fear, but curiosity. His sharp gray eyes sparkled with good-natured mischief, and his crooked smile carried a charm that disarmed even the most suspicious pack members.
Isla was sparring with Susan in the training yard when Malrik appeared, his steps soft and unthreatening. He hovered at the edge of the field, leaning against the wooden fence like an outsider quietly observing a world that wasn’t his.
Susan noticed him first, letting out an audible huff. “What’s he doing here now?” she muttered, landing a heavy strike against Isla’s shield.
Isla shrugged, her silver hair catching the sunlight as she dodged Susan’s follow-up. “Probably just curious. Ignore him.”
But as the sparring session came to an end, Malrik clapped politely, a grin spreading across his face. “Bravo,” he called, his voice light and genuine. “I don’t know what’s more impressive—the precision or the resilience. Either way, I’m thoroughly entertained.”
Susan wiped her brow, her suspicion clear. “What do you want, Malrik?” she asked flatly.
He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering. “Only to appreciate fine skill when I see it. Is that so wrong?” His eyes flicked to Isla, who regarded him with wary curiosity. “And to finally introduce myself properly. It’s a shame I haven’t had the chance.”
“You’ve been here for days,” Susan snapped. “Plenty of time to introduce yourself.”
“True,” Malrik conceded with a chuckle. “But I thought it best not to interrupt the mighty Crimson Fang warriors during their important work. I’d hate to be a distraction.”
Isla stepped forward, brushing off Susan’s muttered protest. “You’re Draven’s brother,” she said, her tone even. “You’ve already introduced yourself—formally, anyway.”
Malrik tilted his head, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Ah, but not properly. There’s a difference.” He extended a thin, calloused hand. “Malrik, the weakest Alpha of the region, full-time observer of life’s absurdities. A pleasure to meet you, Isla.”
Isla hesitated, then took his hand briefly. His grip was firm, but not imposing. “And an occasional troublemaker?” she asked, arching a brow.
“Only when it’s worth the trouble,” Malrik replied with a wink. “Though I assure you, my intentions here are entirely harmless. I’ve spent too much time fighting shadows and politics. It’s nice to simply… exist for a while.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “You’ll forgive us if we don’t take you at your word. Harmless wolves don’t usually show up unannounced.”
Malrik’s smile softened, his posture shifting slightly as if trying to make himself smaller. “I understand,” he said. “I’d feel the same in your place. But I’m not here to disrupt. Truly. I’m here because Draven is family, and whether he likes it or not, I’d like to bridge the… gaps between us.”
“Gaps?” Isla asked, her tone sharpening with curiosity.
“Gaps,” Malrik repeated, his voice light but laced with a subtle melancholy. “Time. Distance. Misunderstandings. We didn’t part on the best of terms. And I’d like to change that.” His gray eyes met Isla’s, sincere and unguarded. “I don’t expect trust, Luna. Only the chance to prove I’m more than my reputation.”
Isla studied him, her instincts warring with his disarming honesty. Finally, she nodded. “Fair enough. But don’t expect anyone here to make it easy for you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Malrik said, his grin returning. “That would ruin all the fun.”
