Alpha's Second Chance_Shifter Nation_Werebears Of The Everglades

by Meg Ripley

  The female seemed to be slightly weak in the hindquarters, a slight limp interrupting her slinking steps. Raul growled, low in his throat, hunkering down into a crouch as he watched the panther move. She was beautiful: sleek, deadly in spite of her limp, staring at him with yellow-green eyes that Raul knew were taking in every possible weakness he possessed.

  As the moments of circling, waiting, evaluating reached a torturous peak, Raul launched himself at the she-panther, diving towards her injured hindquarters. She slipped underneath his dive, surprising him with her speed and nimbleness, and sidestepped his attack. Raul felt the rake of claws along his back, the heat of his blood flowing, and roared out, turning quickly to throw himself at the sneaky panther again.

  Everything became a blur; Raul attacked, the woman evaded and countered. Raul hung back, waiting for her to make her strike, and barely shifted away from her attack in time. He managed to get in a few good hits, but in what seemed like mere moments, he was already beginning to tire. He could tell that the panther was beginning to tire as well—she was panting slightly, low growls leaving her throat. The other two panthers were still firmly chained—they couldn’t help their clan-mate—but the wolves were starting to get restive. The human part of Raul’s brain was too proud to give up the battle—he wasn’t going to let an upstart panther, little better than a glorified housecat, best him in a challenge.

  But when he saw his opening, Raul hesitated; he could smell that Reginald was coming. The unmistakable scent mark of the Alpha of the pack hit him like a brick—and with it, the impression of the Alpha’s brain, imposing its presence on the room. In the moment Raul was distracted, the panther struck, launching herself at him, raking her claws down the sides of his body and tumbling him onto the floor. Raul kicked and twisted, knocking her off him, but he hadn’t managed to completely subdue her.

  Reginald’s ear-splitting howl filled the air and Raul fell back, staring at the injured—but still defiant—panther. The panther glanced around the shed, and then launched herself at her two clan-mates in a flurry of movement, transforming into a dark, mottled blur in front of Raul’s eyes. He growled, throwing himself into the battle with her once more, suddenly realizing what she intended to do: break her friends free while everyone was distracted. Raul grabbed the back of the panther’s neck, locking down as tightly as he could without breaking bones.

  All around him, he heard the groans and growls and howls of the rest of the members of the pack in the shed with him transforming. In a matter of moments, Raul found himself—and the three panthers—surrounded by wolves, Reginald taking up his position as Alpha in his human form. “Change back into your human forms and chain these beasts down more securely,” Reginald said, his voice firm with the authority that came from being in command for years. “They will be put to death in the morning in sight of the whole Pack.”

  Raul let the panther’s neck fall out of his mouth and turned to look up at his Alpha in astonishment. The human part of his mind, asserting itself more fully now that the most animalistic urges had been fulfilled, was stunned—stunned and horrified—to learn that Cam’s comment had apparently been correct: Reginald intended to make an example out of the three panthers by putting them to death. The other wolves in the shed leapt to action, securing the three prisoners anew, piling copper onto them to make it impossible for any of them to move. The panther herself was subdued with a dozen heavy chains, borne down onto the floor of the shed screaming in the agony of the metal against her bare skin and fur. Raul staggered back at the sight unfolding in front of him and started the change into his human form as he watched Reginald slink out of the room, leaving the enforcers and the lower pack members to take care of keeping the prisoners secure enough.

  56

  Raul looked around outside of the shed where the panthers were being held, scenting the air to make sure that none of the other members of the pack were close enough to see what he was going to do. The fact of Reginald’s judgment—the knowledge that the Alpha of the Pack fully intended to put three panthers to death without even a trial—had eaten at Raul long after he’d left the shed to shower and dress his wounds.

  The only other member of the pack present was Cam. Raul sighed; Cam would go along with him—as Raul’s second, he had no real choice—but he would rather have found the shed utterly deserted save for the three panthers. “Cam,” Raul said quietly, knowing that the other man’s preternaturally acute hearing would catch the whisper.

  “All quiet in there,” Cam said, moving out of the darkness and taking up a position in front of the door.

  “I can tell,” Raul reminded his second. “I need you to step aside.” Cam smirked.

  “Oh, you want another try with that female?” he looked Raul up and down in the darkness. “I think she got you pretty good the first time.”

  “I’m fine,” Raul said, letting a low growl come into his voice. “Step aside, Cam—or challenge me, one or the other.”

  “What are you going to do in there?” Raul shook his head.

  “Better you don’t know, man,” Raul told Cam. “I don’t like this summary execution business.”

  “You’re not alone in that,” Cam murmured. “But for myself—they could have killed wolves with that fire. Or normal humans. They have to be stopped.”

  “We’re supposed to be better than the worst parts of our animal nature,” Raul said quietly. “All I need you to do is step aside. And forget that I was here.”

  “What if Reginald asks?” Raul considered; if Cam tried to cover for him by saying that he’d fallen asleep, or that he’d been away from his post, he’d be in trouble—punished by the pack in general and the Alpha in particular.

  “A bunch of panthers came in, sprayed you down with wolf’s bane, and got them out,” Raul suggested. That was something that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

  “They’ll test my clothes,” Cam countered. Raul’s lips twitched in a smile.

  “Guess you’re going to have to douse them in wolf’s bane then, aren’t you?” Raul growled low in his throat, a warning sound. “If you have a problem with it, you challenge me right here and now.” Even injured, even tired as he was, Raul knew that Cam wasn’t a match for him; he’d sparred with the other wolf before.

  “If they find out and Reginald challenges you, I’m not going to be your second,” Cam said. Raul shrugged.

  “I won’t need a second for a battle like that,” he said simply. “Now step aside and look for some fucking wolf’s bane to roll around in.”

  Cam moved away from the door, and Raul brushed past him, striding into the shed. The smell of blood—the panther’s and his own, along with splashes of what he was certain belonged to other members of the pack—filled Raul’s nose. The gloomy light revealed the three panthers, bound in their copper chains, watching the door. The she-panther was coated in sweat, blood spattered across her face and body, but despite her position she stared at him defiantly as Raul closed the door behind him. “I’m going to get you three out of here,” Raul said quietly.

  “Right,” one of the two males said, snorting. “I’m going to trust a wolf.”

  “You might as well,” Raul said, shrugging. “This is the last chance you’re going to get.”

  “We make our own chances,” the other male said. “And if your asshole pack tries to take us out, we’ll take some of you out with us. And the rest of our clan will come after you.” Raul smiled slightly.

  “We outnumber you,” Raul pointed out. “There are more of us, we have more allies. You don’t stand a chance if we come against you.”

  “So why help us then?” The she-panther finally stirred as she spoke. She was obviously in bad shape.

  “I’m not going to sit around and watch while the Alpha does something that’s against the Pack’s laws,” Raul said simply. “Either you accept my help, or you take your chances when it comes time to get the fuck out of here or die.” One of the two men looked closely at the she-panther.

 
“Take her out,” the man said. “Lachlan and I can take our chances.”

  “Asshole! We could get her out of here,” the other male—presumably Lachlan—said.

  “Do you want to risk it? She’s mating age.”

  “Not like it matters to either of you anyway,” the woman said. “I wouldn’t mate with you even if I was in heat.”

  “Take her out,” the first man said again. “Get her out of here.” Raul nodded and moved forward. The she-panther growled as he approached, pulling back her lips to snarl at him. “Keira—let him help you. Let him get you out of here. So help me god…” Raul met the woman’s gaze for a long moment.

  “I’m not going to touch you in any way other than to get you out of the chains and into my car,” he told her firmly. “You can let me help you, or you can wait here for the rest of the pack to come in and lead you out to your death.” She stared into his eyes for a moment longer and then sighed, slumping against her chains, giving him implicit consent. Raul looked around, met the prideful, bitter gazes of the other two panthers, and went to work on disentangling the woman—Keira—from her chains.

  57

  Keira thought she must have blacked out at some point; as she came to, aware that she was in a vehicle—with a wolf no less—and that the vehicle was moving, she felt a jolt of anger and shame: at her weakness, at the fact that she’d had to be “rescued” in the first place, that the source of her rescue was the wolf that she had been on the verge of winning her challenge against only a few hours before. She opened her eyes just a slit and saw gray, early-morning light coming in through a window. “Where the hell are you taking me?” she turned her head slightly; just the smallest movement sent a jolt of pain through Keira’s body.

  “To a hiding spot,” the werewolf said brusquely. “I’m taking you somewhere you can be safe from the pack.”

  “A wolf abandoning his pack?” Keira chuckled weakly. She knew that in a matter of hours, with the exposure to the copper gone, she would be halfway to healing; but that was small comfort as her body ached and throbbed and burned.

  “Not abandoning my pack,” the werewolf said. “I’m just against the decision.”

  “What about Gary and Lachlan?” Keira remembered the discussion between her clan-mates and closed her eyes, thinking that the two of them were idiots. Of course, you don’t know that he’s not taking you somewhere to kill you himself for almost besting him in the challenge, she thought wryly. Privately, Keira had to admit to herself that the wolf had held his own pretty well—and he wasn’t actually as hideous as she would have thought. Keira cast a quick glance over the man in the driver’s seat of the car, taking in his muscled, lean body, the rangy look to his face that most wolves seemed to have.

  “They made their choice,” the wolf said. “I gave them the option and they wanted to take their chances.” Keira’s lips twisted into a grimace; she knew he was right, and there was nothing she nor the wolf could have really done—but that didn’t stop her from being saddened at the knowledge that her clan-mates would almost certainly die.

  “What’s your name?” she frowned at the werewolf, realizing that she’d been rescued by someone who she didn’t even know the first thing about—other than that he was a wolf.

  “Raul. You’re Keira, right?” She nodded slowly. “You weren’t half bad back there. If we’d had maybe ten more minutes though, I’d have turned it around.” Keira laughed and then cringed as the movement sent pain shooting through her body.

  “Please, Fido,” she countered, once the pain began to ebb. “I would have had you on your back whining like a kicked dog.” Raul barked out a laugh.

  “Which one of us is driving? Which one of us had to rescue the other?”

  “I was wrapped in copper chains! Let me wrap you up in tin and injure you and see how much bounce you have in your step, asshole.” Keira sat up in her seat, looking around. She hated not knowing where she was going; she hated feeling vulnerable—especially in the presence of a wolf.

  “I’ll give you a rematch once we’re both recovered,” Raul suggested. “No holds barred.”

  “To the death?” Keira raised an eyebrow, feeling suspicious towards the wolf again.

  “To submission,” Raul countered. “Whoever makes the other submit first.”

  “Then to the death,” Keira said, shrugging. Raul glanced at her and smiled, shaking his head.

  For a long time, they continued on the road, both of them silent. Keira closed her eyes, trying to call up the mental impressions of her clan-mates; at such a distance, it was difficult even to feel the members of her clan—she couldn’t reach out to any of them. They had to be out in the boonies surrounding Spring Lake, not in the town proper anymore. Keira wondered if any of the members of the clan even knew what had happened to her, Lachlan, and Gary.

  “Why were you raiding werewolf businesses in the first place?” Keira opened her eyes and glanced at Raul. She shrugged.

  “I’m not even sure I understand what the reasoning was,” she admitted. “But once the decision was made, we were the natural choice.” She grinned slowly. “Had to have pissed you all off not to be able to track us, huh?” Raul’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile.

  “If we hadn’t caught you last night, it was going to be my head,” Raul told her. “Reginald—our Alpha—got particularly pissed after the fire at the last raid you and your friends pulled off.”

  “That was an accident…I think.” Keira bit her bottom lip. “It wasn’t me that did that. Someone pulled a fuse or something, the sparks lit on fire.” She shrugged.

  “If you don’t even know why your people wanted to raid werewolf businesses, why did you go along with it?” Keira shrugged again.

  “You do stuff because your Alpha wants it, right?” Raul hesitated and then nodded slowly. “It’s not that different with panthers. The clan decides to do something, and the right people for it get it done.”

  “So, if your Alpha decided that you should grab some werewolves and put them to death…” Keira considered the question and shook her head.

  “I’d do the same as you,” she admitted. “We wouldn’t do that though. We’ve got rules. We’ve got standards.”

  “So do we,” Raul said, glancing at her and scowling slightly. “What Reginald commanded is against our ways.”

  “I saw how happy people in that shed were to hear it,” Keira said. “It doesn’t seem that against your ways.”

  “They were pissed—you guys have been pissing us off for weeks. Someone could have died in that fire. We could be discovered. We had to get some other shifters on the police to get onto the investigation so that it wouldn’t lead to figuring out why certain businesses were targeted and others weren’t.” Keira frowned; she had known that the fire would intensify any investigations—would make it more official—but she hadn’t known that the wolves had done anything to slow it down.

  “So, what are you going to do with me?” Keira crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m taking you to a hiding place,” Raul said. “I’ll bring you food, keep you out of the line of fire, until things settle down. I’m going to try and get talks between your folks and my pack.”

  “Good luck with that,” Keira said, trying to imagine the reception that Raul would get with her clan. “You saw how much we trust wolves.”

  “I can hope that keeping you safe will win me some points,” Raul pointed out, smiling.

  “I’m going to be so fucked when they find out I’m being protected by a wolf,” Keira told Raul, shaking her head and smiling to herself in spite of the knowledge of how grave her offense would be.

  58

  Raul looked around as he approached the flophouse he’d left Keira at the day before. Scenting the air, he filtered through the different smells: feral cats, a few squirrels, a rat or two. No sign of wolves—and no sign of panthers, either. He strode towards the front door of the tiny, ramshackle house tucked away in the woods and considered the course of act
ion he’d taken.

  Keira’s clan-mates had, in fact, met their death the morning after he’d spirited Keira away. Raul had hated to see it—he had hated the fact that he’d had to bear witness to such a brutal, unjust execution. The mood in the pack had been divided ever since—some of the Alpha’s most fervent followers were more than a little pleased with the course of action Reginald had taken, but it was obvious that there were many, many more who were doubtful of the wisdom of the act. Cam himself was less than thrilled, and Raul knew that his second wouldn’t snitch on him.

  Keira’s escape at the hands of her clan-mates was an accepted cover in the pack. Certainly, Gary and Lachlan hadn’t disputed it; they had kept their mouths completely shut, not even saying anything in their own defense as Reginald read out the charges against them. Raul felt cold in the pit of his stomach at the memory of the two men, led out in their copper chains. He knew he would have to tell Keira as soon as he went into the safe house to bring her food; and he knew—from his own bonds with the members of his pack—what kind of grief she would feel.

  He had, in fact, brought a bottle of whiskey with him, along with some food to last for a day, just for the purposes of drinking to her fallen family members. Raul took a deep breath, summoning the moral courage to face the pain he was about to give a total stranger, and turned the knob on the front door.

  Keira sat in the gloom, half-sprawled on the couch, watching him as he entered. “They died,” she said dully. Raul closed the door behind him and nodded.

  “I brought food and booze,” he said, crossing the room to the dilapidated old chair next to the couch. “I hope you like whiskey.”