Alpha Men of the Otherworld

by L. M. Mountford

  With a low groan, he bared his knife-like canines and slowly swept his gaze from one to the other, their eyes locking in challenge.

  Who dies first?

  They answered together, dropping onto all fours and exploding into a run, charging directly for him. Danny glanced from one to the other. Paul was the closer, but even by werewolf standards, he was huge. A great golden monster, all raw power and muscle. Yet he was not built for speed, as he was already starting to lag behind while the smaller Jake was closing the gap.

  Two foes. One chance.

  Letting his instincts guide him, Danny pivoted to confront the smaller werewolf first, bracing himself to take the hit head-on. It would take all his bestial strength, for a werewolf mid-charge could strike with enough force to floor an African bull elephant.

  Yet just as the beast was bearing down on him, close enough to smell its rancid breath in the air, it veered away. Danny knew, even before he’d pivoted to glimpse the incoming blur of golden fur, that he’d been humbugged.

  How could he have forgotten? Wolves were team hunters, after all, trained from pups to hunt and work together. One would lure the prey out, distract them with a faint, while the other would move into position and then pounce. It was the oldest trick in the book.

  And the most predictable.

  He twisted away from the oncoming rush of tawny gold fur and then spun to wrap his forepaws around its ribs and midriff. With one hard kick off from the ground, he tackled the other beast and sent them both tumbling down in a furious storm of snapping jaws and disembowelling claws.

  As the larger, Bill hit the ground first. Landing with him, Danny didn’t waste a moment. He used all his bestial weight to pin the bigger beast on his back and laid into him with a fierce barrage of punches, holding nothing back. He needed to even the odds quickly. Alpha blood or no, Wolves were pack animals. A lone wolf couldn’t hope to stand against the pack, even if it was only a duo.

  However, Bill was no pushover. He twisted wildly, desperately trying to buck his opponent off while his hind paws racked his thighs, tearing the already tattered remnants of his jeans to bloodied confetti strips. It was all Danny could do not to get thrown. Needing to steady himself, he dodged the snapping Wolfen jaws and grabbed the other werewolf’s head just beneath its pointed ears. With a sharp tug, he dragged it up, then smashed it back down onto the hard earth, and repeated it again, and again, like a monkey cracking open a nut, until-

  Agony seared up Danny’s leg as powerful jaws chomped down on his ankle with bone crushing force, dragged him back and with a single twist, hurled him around into the solid trunk of a tree. He hit the bark with a loud crack, the force of it knocking the wind right out of him, and it was only through sheer willpower and adrenaline that he was able to get back up again.

  Bill was back on his feet, too. Stood up straight, he appeared to be shaky and wobbling a little on his hind legs, but his eyes had lost none of their fire. He wasn’t down and out just yet.

  Jake, meanwhile, was only just getting started.

  This time, his attack was no feint. He came in an explosion of hatred, barrelling into Danny like a bull at the charge and tackling him back into the tree trunk. It drove all the air from his lungs, but his beast was beyond such things and countered by driving his knee up into the other werewolf’s balls. Jake expected it though and twisted to take it on the thigh, but the pivot opened up some much-needed space between them. Danny went straight for his opponent's head, using first a right, then a left to drive him back before bringing them both together and down in a hammer blow across the beast’s shoulder-blades.

  A human would have been laid out cold by that, but the other werewolf only grunted and, quick as a viper, clamped its jaws down on his wrist. Rows of teeth sharper than steak knives sliced through muscle and flesh. In all the Animal Kingdom, there was no bite that could compare to a werewolf. Capable of biting through bone, timber, and even steel like butter, it made the great white shark look like a suckling lamb and even in his beast form; the pain was excruciating.

  Danny howled a furious roar and twisted right and left, trying to pull away, the bite searing up his forearm like silver nitrate in his blood. Jake moved with him, however, refusing to let go even as they both smashed into the tree, shaking his head and turning the meat of his arm to mangled mince. Then something enormous slammed into them from behind and arms coiled around him, half restraining, half tearing at him with murderous razors, drawing lines of fire across his torso and flanks.

  Bill!

  He twisted and struggled, trying to escape, to buck one werewolf off or throw the other against the tree, but every time one of them started to give, the other would press him back. So they surged back and forth, locked in a tight knot, until even his beast started to succumb. His limbs felt heavy, like lead weights trapped at his sides, and his head felt suddenly light, his vision swimming in and out of focus.

  Then a stray gust of cool air blew across his face, and he smelt it. That scent. The scent that had haunted his dreams. Her scent!

  Erza.

  She was out there, watching them, watching him fight for his life. Watching him, his family, the last remaining wolf of the unbroken line of alphas in Europe, die.

  No! Just the idea of it set a new fire raging in his heart, flooding him with bestial rage. He was the son of an alpha, the last of an unbroken line of alphas, not some cow to be led to the slaughter. How dare she! He’d show her.

  No, he’d show all of them.

  And suddenly Bill’s hold seemed to weaken. His arms, thick and corded with muscle beneath the shaggy golden pelt, gave way bit by bit as Danny pushed out with his elbows, opening up a gap. It was only a tiny thing, a slip of space scarcely large enough for a mouse to squeeze through, but it was enough. Enough for him to rip his arm free of the press of Wolfen bodies and smash his elbow back into the bridge of Bill’s nose.

  The werewolf howled in surprise and agony as the hit snapped his head back and sent him reeling. Seizing his chance, Danny jerked sideways, grabbing Jake by the throat and throwing his other arm back, the arm with his teeth still embedded in it.

  A loud crack split the air as the werewolf’s head smashed against the tree, hard enough that the bark splintered in a shower of twigs. His eyes rolled back. Jake’s mouth opened with a long groan as he slumped to the ground. For a long moment, his lupin form just sat there. Then the muscles began to twitch and writhe beneath the skin. Bones clicked back into place. The ears and muzzle shrank away, and the thick pelt fell away to reveal the frail unconscious human body beneath.

  He looked just the way Danny remembered. Older, sure, but still with the same wavy brown hair, sharp features, and small athletic build. With his head slumped back like that, he looked like he could have been taking a doze.

  A quick glance back confirmed that Bill had reverted to his natural state and was knocked out cold on his back with an obviously broken nose that now looked more like a squashed pig’s snout. The werewolf’s regenerative capabilities would probably have him fixed up by the time he was on his feet, but he’d be feeling that for a while.

  The thought had him hanging his head, all thoughts of victory tempered by the memories that these had been his friends once. Damn it all, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He’d only come here to talk, not-

  “Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch, Danny,” a voice from the past laughed.

  Danny’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on the figure standing on the edge of the tree line. Tall but with a wiry athletic build. Sandy blonde hair tumbling messily down to his shoulders. A shit-don’t-stink grin plastered across his narrow face.

  Recognition flared deep inside my wolf. There was only ever one man in Lupus Latr with the gall to taunt a fully turned werewolf. Against what could only be considered his better judgment, Danny forced his beast back down into its cage and with it, his rich black pelt and Wolfen features dissolved away to reveal the man beneath.

  With the
tattered remnants of his shirt and jeans hanging off him, he nodded to the other man and asked, “Shane...you up next?”

  “What? Me? You mean after watching you take Pinky and Perky there apart like warm bread? You must be joking.” He seemed genuinely amused by the notion, and if nothing else, he certainly hadn’t come dressed for a fight. Werewolves fought in fur or leather, not Calvin Kline. “Nope, I’m just here to escort you up to the big house. Erza is expecting you.” He raised a hand in the direction of Lacum Hall. “After you...”

  Danny didn’t argue. He’d already come this far. What would be the point? He just turned his eyes up to the summit of the hill, to where the ramparts of his childhood home reached up to stab the sky. To where he knew she was watching him and knew the time had come.

  With a shrug, he started to walk, going beneath an arch of interwoven branches and up along the ancient path of old moss-covered stones. “Erza knew I was coming? How?”

  “Wish I knew. She rarely steps out of the house, never leaves the village, but she always seems to know everything that’s going on everywhere. I’ve got no idea how she does it. Social media has nothing on Erza,” Shane joked, falling into step beside him. “Anyway, she announced the other day you were coming home, and then this morning she told the three of us to come out here and greet you. Didn’t say when, of course, just to set up and wait.” His eyes dropped down to Danny’s side. “Are you going to be alright with that?”

  Danny shot him a confused look. Seeing the other man’s look of concern, he followed his gaze down to the twin rings of bite marks that circled his wrist. To an observer, it would have looked like a savage wound, a latticework of torn and ragged flesh thickly encrusted with dry blood. However, it was a scratch compared to the damage Jake’s jaws had dealt him and within the hour, it would be just another set of scars. He shrugged it off. “Such hospitality.”

  “Don’t give me that, Daniel,” Shane snarled, his eyes suddenly blazing the furious gold of the wolf. “You know our ways. You know what happens to wolves that run out on their packs. You’ve got to prove yourself before we offer up a fatted calf, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t miss you.” And just like that, the storm passed. His features softened, and he was throwing a brotherly arm over Danny’s shoulder. “Damn, it’s good to see you, mate. It just hasn’t been the same around here without your family running the show. The whole village is excited. You remember Miss Babs, the baker’s wife that used to assist at the school? She wanted to set a big welcome home sign over the village hall. Hang balloons up everywhere. She even went on about setting up some of those huge picnic tables in the square and getting everyone to bring something like they used to do at fairs in the Middle Ages. Ya know what I mean?”

  Danny couldn’t believe his ears. They missed him? Were pleased to hear he was returning? The idea left him feeling strangely relieved, like a weight had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He never would have thought the pack would welcome him back so readily after he’d abandoned it to Erza’s fate.

  Shane let out a long whistle. “Yep, we were all set to have a big welcome home party in the Slaughtered Lamb, for you, but then Erza forbade it. Said no one was to say a word to you until she’d spoken with you. Well except for me, of course. Though personally, I didn’t figure on us sharing many words. Thought she had just sent me out here just to make sure Pinky and Perky over there didn’t kill you. Still, it looks like the old wolf’s blood is still burning strong.” And then his expression was suddenly thoughtful. “Hey, have you heard anything about your brother?”

  “Deckland?” The question surprised Danny, and he couldn’t quite keep the excitement from his voice. “No, why? What happened?”

  It had been years since he’d had word from his big brother.

  “No idea, that’s why I asked,” Shane shrugged, letting the arm fall from Danny’s shoulder. “He just up and vanished about the same time you did, after he lost the challenge. A few of us thought he might have sought sanctuary, but none of the other packs have seen a trace of him since. It’s as if he just disappeared.”

  “I see,” Danny sighed, his heart sinking. “Last I heard, he’d gone over to Canada, but he doesn’t keep in touch. We haven’t spoken in years.”

  Deckland, his big brother, their father’s heir. It had always been assumed that he would take over the ruling of the pack when their father passed. It was the role he had been born for. His whole life had been spent training for the day he would assume the mantle of their ancestors. And unlike so many heirs to their father’s throne, he was well suited to his birthright. Strong as their father. but with their mother’s calm manner and rational temperament, he would have been a good heir. Then that dark day came when their father’s body was carried back from battle.

  At such times, it was tradition for all the pack to gather around the fallen alpha’s body and those who wished to succeed him could make their claims. Words were said, oaths were made, claims were voiced. Then the true test would begin.

  Deckland had stood up first, sworn to defend the Village and its pack with his claws till his dying breath, and none of the pack had challenged him. None but her, an outsider who had just walked into the village that very morning with nothing but the clothes on her back and a name that no one knew, but tradition said all could challenge for the title of Alpha.

  So the challenge had been issued and Deckland, for all his strength and training, had lost.

  Erza had ruled Lupus Latr as the Alpha from that day, and no one had seen Deckland since he had escorted her to the private grounds that had been used to decide such contests since the ancient days.

  “Damnit,” Shane growled under his breath before musing to himself. “We could really use him right about now.”

  That got Danny’s attention. “Yeah? Something going on I should know?”

  “What? Ah, no, no, no, nothing like that,” Shane laughed nervously, before continuing in his best offhand tone. “So, er what about your mum? Mother was hoping she’d be returning with you, and you know what-”

  “She’s dead,” Danny cut him off, the words out before he could stop them.

  Shane’s eyes widened, and he immediately bowed his head. “Oh...I’m, I’m sorry mate.”

  “It’s fine, just one of those things.” Danny forced himself to look straight ahead, resisting the burn of tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Yet he couldn’t keep the hitch from his voice as the memories flooded his head. “It’s been almost two years now. She just never really got over losing dad that way.”

  “Wolf's Bane...” The eternal pinning and longing wail of a wolf who had lost its mate and was cursed to waste away to a piteous end. There was no worse end for a werewolf than the slow death of a broken heart.

  Just the mention of the ailment sent a shiver through them both.

  Danny nodded, one stray tear rolling down his cheek. “Yes. She fought it as long as she could but...well, you know.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Shane raised his gaze and looked up through the woodland canopy to the darkened celestial sky. He’d never really known the details of the mating of the last Alpha and his mate, but their stories were legends amongst the pack’s elders. “May their spirits find each other in the great sky plains,” he said, reciting the prayer of reuniting lovers with more reverence than Danny would have expected.

  “Run far and free...until we meet again,” Danny finished, before turning to Shane, his expression suddenly hard. “What does Erza want to see me for?”

  “You came to talk, didn't you?” Shane shrugged, but his grin was absent still and the nonchalance didn’t show in his eyes.

  Danny grabbed his arm, stopping Shane in his tracks. “Yes, but that doesn’t explain her wanting to see me.” His hold was like iron around the other man’s wrist, his tone matter of fact. “I’m a son of the last Alpha. With Deckland gone from our lands, I’m the greatest threat to her control of the pack. Other alphas would have me killed on sight. So why does she want t
o see me?”

  Shane wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not supposed to-”

  “Oh! Don’t give me that shit. You know something,” Danny snapped. “You just said Deckland would be useful right about now. Why? What the fuck’s going on? Tell me or I’m gone. I came for answers. I won’t be a pawn in a power game.”

  Torn by indecision, for a moment, Shane looked like he might protest further. Then the war of his conflicting loyalties swung, and their eyes met. “Ah...alright, you’ll find out soon enough anyway, but you can’t tell her I told you. Alright?” He was more imploring than insisting.

  Danny nodded. “Go on.”

  “Okay. Things are bad, mate. And not just for us, but for everyone. All the packs, and even the rogues in the cities like you,” he sighed. “It’s Wyverns.”

  “Wyverns?” The question hung in the air for a moment, then Danny couldn’t help a dry laugh. “Yeah, so what. When aren’t they a problem? When haven’t those sheep shagging thunder lizard shifters been out to devour anyone who didn’t shit scales? They’re just a fact of life, like fleas and humans.”

  “This is different,” Shane growled, his eyes lacking any hint of humour. “Look, it wasn’t just your dad who fell on Hengest’s Hill. The old wolf sent a number of Wyvern chiefs to the dark skies that day, and that power vacuum has given rise to a new power across the border. A chieftain named Emyr has been conquering any clan that wouldn’t join him. Last year he marched on the Brecon Beacons and old King Edmundwyfgit Blood Wing bent the knee and surrendered the triple crown of wing and claw to the upstart. Now he rules over all the clans.”

  “How do you know this?” Danny asked slowly, disbelieving.

  Wyverns were not like the other Paranormals. They didn’t mix with humans, nor integrate into society. They existed in savage tribes across Wales, in a world that hadn’t evolved since the dark ages. Shane was unlikely to have seen their movements on his Twitter feed.