Chosen by the Pack

The major wedding is taking place tomorrow. A marriage between the Chief's daughter and Ahiga, a gallant warrior of great renown. That daughter is none other than me. Arranged marriages are very important in our tribe, the Asalog. Individuals marry one another because they are of like grade; two strong people get married together as much as two weak people. Historically, our customs were established to keep authority from controlling our lives. Yes, we have a Chief, but he was picked for his good acts rather than his power.

Following his death, the tribe's protection is handed over to the next noble-hearted man who has shown himself worthy.

A woman is unable to get the position of Chief. Not because she is a woman, but because our obligations are equally as vital as those of men. We are the chefs, instructors, healers, child carriers, and the ones that the men look to for guidance when it comes to making vital life and death decisions. Hunting and fighting are two things that most of us ladies would never be able to undertake. It's not that we can't do what they can, or that they can't do what we can; it's simply that we are made differently and are appreciated for what we do. We are content in the knowledge that we are needed.

With long brown hair tied back in a braid, dark brown eyes that highlight his chiseled jaw and prominent cheek bones, and sun-tanned skin from his many hours of hunting, Ahiga is a handsome man who is surrounded by devotion and dignity. Many other ladies have flocked to him and urged him to marry them, but the Chief has refused. Unfortunately for them, my obstinate and quick-witted demeanor has sealed my fate as his wife. I am not in love with the man, but he is in love with me. As my mother did to my father, I'm confident that I will fall in love with him in time.

My legal, adult age of 21 was only a week ago, but we had been engaged since we were minors. Our tribe, in contrast to other tribes, did not practice child marriage. It was frowned upon and considered improper.

“Kiera!” My mother called from outside our hut.

The cow skin throw fell from my shoulders as I sprang from my bed, accompanied by a grunt. Our cabin was beautifully adorned with furs, dried flowers, and herbs, and the smell of a stew cooking outside wafting into the room.

In the normal course of things, I'd be up at the crack of dawn, but because the wedding is just a day away, everyone has decided to let me do whatever I want.

I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun as I peered out the door. In the kitchen, my mother was seated at the cooking pot, which had a fire burning below it. Her brown hair was tucked into a bun for the occasion. I was always astounded at how she managed to keep all her hair in place. As soon as she took it down, her hair trailed at the bottom of her feet.

Patting the seat beside her, she ushered me over. “Oh dear, your hair is a mess. Come let me put it up.”

“Oh momma, don’t bother yourself with that!” I pleaded, plopping down next to her.

Kaora, the Chief's wife, is adamant about not taking no for an answer. The only characteristic I inherited from my father was my tendency to be overbearing. My mother, on the other hand, is responsible for my tenacity and good looks. She resembled the human equivalent of a lioness. Without her, our Chief would be no more than another member of the tribe.

She turned to face me, securing the spoon she was using to stir the stew to the edge of the pot with her other hand. As she directed me to turn my back on her, a brush sprang out of thin air in her hand. I fiddled with the hem of my sheepskin dress while she combed the knots out of my locks.

“Momma, what if I don’t fall in love with him?”

“A marriage does not require love, dear. However, it does require teamwork. That is the main reason you two have been arranged together. Your personalities are not too different, meaning you will match each other well.” She said.

She finished braiding my hair and then spun me around to face her. Her bulging stomach grabbed my attention, and I put a palm over it.

“How will I have children with him if I do not love him?”

Upon placing one palm of her hand over mine, a warm grin flashed across her face. “If you were not to love him when making children, you will love the children that come of it and learn to enjoy the act itself.”

A blush crept over my cheeks. Even though I was still a virgin, rumors about the "act" continued to circulate among my friends. Hearing brides talk about their first night together was both fascinating and unsettling to listen to. The notion of displaying someone else my bare body made me feel uncomfortable.

“I don’t even know what to do…” I whined.

She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tightly. Her swollen tummy made the hug a little unpleasant. “You let him lead. It will all work out. Trust me.”