by Lia Davis
"We? Were you a—" I rolled the word she used around in my mouth, then decided not to butcher it. "A female chief?"
She preened. "I was. I became Cockacoeske when my Totopotomoy was killed. I created the first treaty with the English, the first reservation of tribal land. And I took on multiple husbands, just as any man chief would take on multiple wives. Our Great Chief Wahunsenacawh had over a hundred wives."
"How many husbands did you have?" I couldn't believe it. She had a poly relationship. I was navigating my way through the beginning of my own set of mates as I prepared to become the High Alpha, and it turned out my ancestors had already paved the way.
Amonute squeezed my hand. "Thirty. I was a powerful Weroansquas, as will you be. I am so proud to be able to take you on this journey. It's always the men that get to do it. Finally, we can show our story."
"Why can't you show your story to the men?" There was no reason she couldn't have told this to my dad, or grandfather.
"It was agreed, in the beginning, that the men would lead the men, and the women would lead the women. But there have been no women in so long. I'm excited to be with you now." She indicated that I should enter the wigwam.
"Go in?" I raised my eyebrows, apprehensive about what I would find inside.
"You must see."
The interior of the hut was pitch black. I stepped inside while Amonute held the hide covering the door aside. "Oh, I am sorry." She clapped her hand once, and the pit in the center of the hut burst into flames.
I gasped and covered my mouth. Dried blood covered the walls and splattered the ceiling. Three bodies, ripped to shreds, lay on the remains of a pallet bed. More bedding, baskets, and other items were scattered about, covered in blood. It was horrific, almost like the attacks on the covens but worse. "What happened?"
"My enemies found my weakness," Amonute said sadly.
I turned to look at her face, and my tears spilled out of my eyes. "How?"
"I was under attack constantly. I was woman, and I had power. The male chiefs under me either listened to their wives and supported me—or they didn't." She looked at the carnage in the small room. "As Weroansquas, I had my choice of living space. And though I had many husbands, most of them were work husbands. They were my hunters and warriors. They supported and defended my tribe. I had only a few that were close to my heart, though. Only a few that stayed with me. I often came here, to the home I shared with my first husband, your grandfather many times over. My Totopotomoy held a special place in my heart, and I liked being near his memory. That is where she found me."
"She?" I stepped outside the wigwam. I'd seen enough.
"Sokw. She was the wife of a powerful chief that lived on the other side of the mountain. He had many wives, but she was his first. She coveted my land and my people. She wanted them for her husband."
"She did this?" I motioned toward the inside of the hut, where Amonute still stood in the door, looking down at the bloody scene.
She took in a deep breath and turned to face me. "I did. She found my secret name, my power name. She used it in a spell against me. Umpsquoth Attemous. It was a curse, combined with my power name, Matoaka, that turned me into what you now know as a lycan. I began to change, inside the hut with the three husbands that I held close to my heart. In the home I'd shared with my Totopotomoy, I shifted."
Her face froze, eyes wide with terror and pain. "My hands shifted first, morphing into some sort of horrible claw. I screamed, lashing out in pain and fear." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can remember the way their skin felt as it broke under my claws. I can still feel their blood washing over my paws."
She clenched her fists. "The curse was on me and my descendants. All of my children changed the same night, the same way." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "My daughter, who had taken an English name, Ann, killed her own child as she shifted."
I put my hand on her arm. She blinked rapidly then brushed away her tears. "It was many, many years ago. But to see them like that, I can't help but feel like it just happened."
"What happened next?"
"My children and their children and I went into hiding. We climbed far into the mountains, away from everyone. We left our husbands and wives, our entire lives, our entire power structure. Every month, we shifted, eventually learning the life of the moon brought on our change. We became more accustomed to the change, learned to transform without hurting anyone. The pain receded, and we built a new life for ourselves."
My chest tightened. "How did your line survive if you were up in the mountains, away from everyone?"
"My grandchildren. They were raised as shifters; it was all they knew. Their shifts were calm, painless. When they were old enough to desire mates, they left us. My children and I, we could not stomach the thought of leaving our refuge. We were secret and safe. We remained high in the mountains."
She started and jerked her head to look behind me. "It's time for me to leave you, granddaughter." I looked but didn't see anyone there. She took both my hands in her own, squeezing gently. "In your blood, you have the Powhatan people. You have strength and dignity, and much power. Remember that, always."
Amonute released my hands then turned to leave. I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Wait."
She stopped but didn't turn. "I have little time."
"Your enemy. The one that cursed you. What happened to her?"
Amonute turned her head to the side, so I could see her profile. "I unburdened her of her head."
Shit.
"Jillian." My mother's voice caused me to turn away from Amonute. She walked toward me, delight on her face.
I looked back to say a final farewell to Amonute, but she was gone. "Wow."
"She's intense, isn't she?" My mom put her arm around my shoulders. The wigwams surrounding us melted away, and we were once more in the bright, sunny clearing in the woods. I screwed my eyes shut against the sudden glare.
"I didn't find her very intense until you returned." I laughed nervously. "She mostly seemed overjoyed to see me, and then incredibly sad."
"When you die, in a very long time, you'll see. She's our matriarch." My mother sat on the log by the fire again. "What do you think?"
So many questions flew through my mind. "Why is this a secret?" Surely we should know the pride of our heritage.
"Amonute's descendants went out into the world acting as human. They found mates in the Powhatan tribe. But the children." She sighed. "The children were always lycan. They always shifted."
"Right. If ever a lycan finds a human mate, the human has to be shielded from it, or we use a spell to bind them so they can't tell our secrets." I knew that, every lycan knew that.
Mom nodded and continued. "Our people didn't have the luxury of spells. The witch that cast our curse was dead, and we had no way of finding another. Witches hid their powers then, even more closely than we do now. Witch hunts were real things, the world over. Anyone with powers was killed."
"So, when the human parent saw their child shift..." My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.
Mom frowned. "Bingo. They freaked. They blabbed. For many hundreds of years, we had to find spouses and mates, then when our children were old enough to shift, we disappeared, joining the elders in the mountains."
"That sucks."
"Indeed."
I understood what she was saying. Back then anything that was different was labeled as evil. But the world had evolved in so many ways. "Still though, why can't we know our origins? Our story? Amonute's story should be told."
"It doesn't make sense now, in this world that is changing to accept and include. But when our ancestors went out into the world to find mates and spouses, many of them found themselves with descendants of the very woman that cursed us." Mom stared into the fire.
I watched the orange and red flames dance. "So any of us could be related to the curser and the cursee?"
"Exactly. It doesn't mean much now, but it did for so long that it became our law. We d
o not tell the story. The ancestors tell the story to the High Alphas." She patted my leg. "What other questions do you have?"
"How did we begin to war with vampires?"
She shrugged. "They were formed with their own curse. I don't know the details, really. They're older than we are, I know that. From what I understand, the vampires had a long feud with other types of shifters—different from us lycans—in the old world."
It would be interesting to know their side of the story and their origins. "So they had quarrel with the other shifters?"
"It seems so. They carried that hatred over to the new world when they began migrating with the humans. We'd been here for a long time before we began to smell them invading our territories. Our people were probably too defensive, theirs permeated with an old hatred of shifters."
We fell silent for several minutes, listening to the crackle of the fire. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Your father told you about fated mates?"
I nodded. "You choose them?"
"In a way. When a lycan is born, we visit the child, and meditate. We are able to discern certain things, feel some things and see others. Sometimes those feelings and visions will allow us to match couples up."
"Okay. That's less creepy than what I'd pictured." I let out a soft laugh.
She joined me with a laugh of her own. "What did you picture?"
"You seeing the future and matching us up based on what would further the cause of the lycans." I frowned. Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous.
"Oh, no. It's based on your personalities and certain visions of the future. That's really all I can tell you until you experience it."
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying being in each other's company. I felt that our time together was coming to an end. "Is there anything you'd like me to tell dad?"
"Tell him to be happy. In this place, I've found peace. I'm happy that he's finally moving on." She smiled sadly. "I wish he'd done it long ago."
I looked in her eyes and believed her. She loved him enough to wish him joy.
"What will my new powers be like?"
"Well, I've never experienced them. That's why normally a former High Alpha does this journey, but I fought tooth and nail to be your guide."
I was so glad she had. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it and pushed the sadness away. "Why would they say no?"
"They say I won't prepare you enough. I argued that your father is stepping down, not dead, and he will be able to help you through the first weeks. But they did give me information for you."
"Why couldn't one of them come, too?"
Her smile turned devilish. "I refused to share my time with you with anyone but Amonute. They couldn't sway me. Finally, Amonute herself stepped in and ruled in my favor."
I stood and stretched, walking to the fire that hadn't died down or grown the entire time I'd been there. "What will it be like?"
"Overwhelming. Exciting. Your senses will be on high alert, as if in wolf form constantly. You do get used to it, but it takes weeks."
"That's what dad said. He also warned that he'd probably be giving me a hard time."
She laughed again. Gods, I loved the sound of her laugh. "Well, his parents did with him. It's sort of a right of passage to be made fun of while you get used to it."
We ran out of words. Too much to say and not enough time.
Mom stood and advanced to me. "I'm so proud of you. We won't be able to do this again. It takes an extraordinary amount of power to send us here with you."
"Never?" I didn't want to give her up.
"I'm sorry. Now you know why I fought so hard to be the one." She put her arms around me, and I let myself feel like a child again in her embrace. "Be happy. That's all I want for you. And know I'm watching you, except when you're doing icky things that moms don't want to see. I don't watch then."
"Oh, ew, does anyone?" That so was not what I wanted to be concerned with.
"Not when I get through with them." She growled. She was a mama wolf, whether on Earth, or wherever it was she lived.
"Mom, when I die, will I join you?"
"You will. A wise woman once wrote, death is but the next great adventure. She was right."
I hugged her tight, clenching my eyes closed and inhaling deeply. She smelled just like I remembered, and I wanted to imprint this moment into my mind firmly.
"I love you, Jillian. Always remember." Her voice had gone breathy, and sounded far away, as if whispered through a wrapping paper roll, all echoey.
Then she was gone.
3
Jillian
"Don't go, Mom." I tried not to cry, but the tears flowed anyway. "Don't go."
My arms emptied suddenly. I was alone, sitting upright with my legs crossed in the clearing where my father had left me. The sun beat down on me and had been for a while. When I opened my eyes, the bright day pierced my vision, causing me to cry out.
The sound of my voice further overwhelmed me. I wasn't sure if I'd shouted particularly loudly, or if it was the new sensitivity to my ears. I could hear cars driving on the road that was a good mile hike away. Animals scurried through the woods, some swift and small, some large and lumbering. It all crowded in until I fell onto my side, eyes tightly closed and hands over my ears.
I hummed, a song I remembered my mother singing when I was small. I'd forgotten about it, but my brain pulled it out of the recesses to comfort me and calm my anxiety. I'd lost my mother again, and the pain felt fresh and raw.
"I know that song." Quin's voice was muffled with my hands over my ears, but I heard him clearly anyway. "My mom sang it to me. It's an old Native American tune, I think. The words have been lost, but mom said we were a distant relation."
Without removing my hands or moving, I squinted one eye open, then slammed it shut again. It was still too bright. "It's too much," I whispered.
"I know." That was Kane. "We came as soon as we could."
"How'd you know?" My own voice thundered through my ears, even at the low volume I'd spoken at.
"We felt your pain, your panic. You've been up here for hours." Voss spoke this time as Quin gently lifted me into his arms. His smell surrounded me. Even though he smelled good, clean and a little woodsy, it was so strong I nearly gagged.
I spoke as softly as I could, and it sounded like shouting. "It couldn't have been. Maybe a couple of hours, tops."
Kane walked in front of us. I could hear his footfalls, and his voice drifted back like he spoke through a megaphone. "Jillian, it's been nearly seven. Your father was starting to worry, but still he tried to stop us."
"When we felt your pain, we called your father as we piled in the car. Some sense that we didn't even know we possessed told us what direction to come in." Voss was behind us.
"Thank you," I whispered. "This is more than they described. It's beyond overwhelming."
"We're out of the direct sun," Quin said softly. "You can try to open your eyes again."
Voss cursed. "I wish we'd thought to bring some sunglasses. Why didn't her dad think of it?"
"Because she shouldn't need them," Dad said, not bothering to keep his voice down.
I cried out at the assault on my ear drums, then clamped my lips shut as my own cry hurt almost as much as his had.
Braving the brightness again, I cracked my eyes open, just a sliver. In the shade, I was able to open them enough to squint. "That's better," I whispered.
"Jillian," my dad said softly. "You should be able to see. We shouldn't have to whisper. What happened?"
"Mom says hi." I peered up at him. "She says be happy."
"How did you see your mom?" He was flabbergasted. His jaw was slack and eyes round. "How did she look?"
"Beautiful. She's at peace, Dad. She's content. And she wants us to be happy. Both of us. She wants you to move on." I patted Quin's arm so he'd set me down. "I can walk."
We made it down the mountain without incident, but every sound had me jumpin
g, whirling and looking all around to identify the source. Every time we stepped into a patch of sunlight, I had to close my eyes. Halfway down the mountain, Kane swept me into his arms so I could close my eyes and cover my ears again.
We made it home and pulled both cars into the attached garage. We wanted to avoid anyone seeing me looking weak. "Until I’m at my full strength, we must make it seem that I'm just busy or otherwise unavailable."
I walked into the house with sunglasses on—luckily, I’d left some in my SUV, which the guys had driven. Only one person passed us, an enforcer on his way out to the training compound. He nodded at us, and no conversation was required. I recognized him as one of Dad’s. He’d been around long enough to know what the High Alpha was like during the first weeks after the power transfer.
We made a beeline for our bedroom, a large suite we'd decided to share. It was my domain, and all the guys had rooms that they could escape to if they needed time to themselves. I climbed in the bed and was asleep in minutes.
I slept a lot the first few days, my body escaping the overwhelming senses by shutting down. My dad wanted to bring in pack healers, shaman, and even suggested a witch consult. I would allow none of it. We had no idea who was on Trinity and Emerson's payroll. They couldn't find out I was vulnerable and weak.
My vision acclimated the fastest. I supposed it was because I used it the most. Hearing was next. My sense of smell and taste took the longest. I learned to season my food lightly, and Voss began preparing all of my meals separately from everyone else’s. I couldn't take salt or pepper at all. Every bite exploded flavor into my mouth, usually far too much.
After a week, I was going out of my mind with boredom. I'd caught up all paperwork, signed every paper I could find to sign, planned out the entirety of every party we could possibly need to throw for the next year, and sent out emails to select members of the Collective, inviting them to collaborate in coming months on ways to integrate the two peoples and help them learn to work together to the betterment of us all.
