Wolfsong

by T. J. Klune

  “I don’t know about that,” I said honestly. “And you don’t have to call me Alpha. It’s just Ox.”

  “Really.” She sounded amused. “Just Ox.”

  “It’s a sign of respect,” Joe said to me.

  “I know,” I said. “But nobody else calls me that. I don’t need her to either.”

  “Curious,” she said again. “We could dispense with the pleasantries, I suppose. I was never one to stand on ceremony.”

  “What did you want, Michelle?” Joe asked.

  She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That list is a mile long.”

  “Why don’t we just start with the things you want from us,” Joe said. “Seems like it’d be easier that way.”

  “I don’t recall saying I wanted anything from you.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Joe said. “It was implied.”

  “Fair,” she said. The smile dropped off her face. “Where have you been the last three years?”

  Joe tensed next to me. “You know where we were.”

  “Not the specifics.”

  “Specifically, we were everywhere. We didn’t stay in one place. Funny how that worked.”

  Her fingers tapped on the desk as she leaned back in her chair. “But you never caught up with him. Richard, I mean.”

  “No,” Joe said stonily.

  “And Robert Livingstone? Osmond? Anything from them?”

  “No.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Joe said. “Why don’t you ask the teams you sent out? They didn’t seem to have any better luck.”

  “Yes.” She frowned. “That. That… was disappointing, to say the least. Why do you think that was?”

  “Because he’s smart,” Joe said. “And ruthless. Something your people could never be.”

  “And you could?” she asked, and I squeezed Joe’s hand out of sight, because careful, careful.

  He knew what I was trying to say. I couldn’t feel him yet, not like I used to, but I didn’t think it would be long. The packs were going to come together. They had to. I didn’t really see any other way it could be.

  “I did what I had to do,” Joe said.

  “And your pack,” she said.

  “They did as well. We were all in agreement.”

  She glanced at me. “Were you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is Richard Collins?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you came back.”

  “It was time.”

  “It had nothing to do with the King clan, then?”

  Joe said nothing.

  Michelle sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

  “We didn’t ask for your help,” Joe said.

  “You’ll need it. If he comes again.”

  Joe snorted. “He’s already come twice. He’s already taken from me. Where were you then?”

  She didn’t even flinch. She was very good. “Things are different now.”

  “They are,” Joe agreed. “But that doesn’t change anything between us. You and I both know that my desire to lead ended when my father was taken from me. I don’t care about that. Not anymore. You can have it. Do with it what you will.”

  “You don’t trust me,” she said.

  “No,” Joe said coolly. “I don’t. I don’t trust any of you. You did nothing to help my father. And, in fact, you sent someone who betrayed us. So forgive me if appeasing your guilt isn’t one of my first priorities.”

  “I’m not asking you to appease anything,” she said, that hardened exterior cracking just a little. “This doesn’t affect just you, Joe. Richard Collins is an enemy to all of us. We’re supposed to work together. To stop him. To end this.”

  Claws pricked my fingers as Joe’s grip tightened. “You should have thought of that when you had the chance to end this after he took me when I was a kid. You had him and you—”

  “I wasn’t even part of this then—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Joe interrupted. “You are the Alpha of the wolves now. Everything that has come before you now rests on you.”

  “I could send someone there,” she said. “Multiple someones, if I was inclined.”

  “Actually, you couldn’t,” I said.

  She glared at me. “And why is that?”

  “Because I’m the Alpha of this territory,” I said. “And you are not welcome here.”

  She laughed. “Mr. Matheson, I assure you, I don’t need your permission. If anything, you answer to me now.”

  “I don’t answer to anyone except for my pack,” I said. “And I assure you, if you think otherwise, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

  She looked back and forth between us, her mask slipping just a bit further. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to help you? You don’t have to be alone in this.”

  “We’re not alone,” Joe said. “We have each other. Our packs.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t both be Alphas and lead the same pack. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “You don’t know how we work,” I said.

  “And you’ll listen to him?” she asked Joe, ignoring me. “The human? After everything they’ve done. After everything they could do?”

  “Speciesist,” Joe said. “Unfortunate. I never thought you of all people would think that way. Osmond did. And so did Richard.”

  Her eyes flared red. “I am nothing like them.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter. Not now. Not with what could happen.”

  “Which is all the more reason to let us help you—”

  “Three years,” I said. “And this is the first time I’ve heard from you. Why is that?”

  She hesitated.

  “You knew Joe was gone. You knew some of us remained. And yet you never contacted us. Not me. Not Mark. Not even Elizabeth. Why is that?”

  “There was no need,” she said stiffly. “You were grieving. Robbie was there telling me what I needed to know.”

  “And yet,” Joe said, picking up on the thread, “I’ve been back two weeks and here you are.”

  “I figured it was time—”

  “No,” Joe said. “You didn’t.”

  “Because you didn’t want us,” I said. “You want Joe.”

  “He is the Bennett Alpha,” Michelle snapped. “He’s supposed to be—”

  “My father told me that in order to be a good Alpha, I always need to put the good of the pack first,” Joe said. “Above anything else. Because an Alpha cannot lead if he doesn’t have a pack who will follow him.”

  “What good will it be when your pack is gone?” she asked. “Because that’s the risk you run. Joe, I am asking—no, I am begging you. Let us help you.”

  Joe looked over at me. I made sure my gaze didn’t waver, that he could see every single part of me that I’d built up for him. We still had a long way to go. Those hurts and burns that had scarred my skin over the last three years would take a long time to heal. But I’d given my heart away years ago to a blue-eyed boy who loved and trusted me enough to keep his family safe.

  He made a little choking sound, like he hurt deep back in his throat. There was a burst of warmth in my head and chest, and it was there, however small, however young, this thread, the tiniest thread and it said pack and love and mate mate mate.

  Michelle was right. Joe was the Bennett Alpha.

  But she didn’t expect me. She didn’t know about me. Whether or not she believed what I was or not, she still thought me weak.

  Yes, Joe was the Alpha.

  But so was I.

  And I would do anything for him. For our pack.

  I turned back to Michelle. “You aren’t welcome here. Not now. Not until this is over. Not until we can be sure we can trust you. I’m human. But I am an Alpha, and I will do anything for our pack.”

  “Even die?” she asked quietly.

  Joe froze.

  I didn’
t. “Even that,” I said, “if it means keeping them safe.”

  She nodded. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Truly. I am sending teams to Oregon. You can’t fight me on that. If they find him first, well. We will do what we can. But if he makes it through, if he comes for all of you, I… I hope you know what you’re asking of me.”

  “We do,” I said.

  “I hope we’ll talk again soon,” she said. “We have much to discuss. Alpha Bennett, Alpha Matheson.”

  The screen went dark.

  “That didn’t go like I thought it would,” I muttered.

  He didn’t say anything, so I looked over at him. His face had paled slightly.

  “What?”

  “You were serious.”

  “About?”

  “Dying for them. For us.”

  “No one’s dying, Joe. I was making a point.”

  “But you would,” he insisted.

  I didn’t know where this was going. So I said, “Yeah, Joe. Yes. For you. For all of you.”

  He reached up and gripped the back of my neck, pulling me forward. He pressed his forehead against mine. “You can’t,” he said. “You can’t die.”

  “Joe—”

  “Ox,” he growled.

  I sighed. “I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Then you stay by my side,” he said. “No matter what happens. You don’t leave my side.”

  “You knew this. You know what I would do for them. For you.”

  His grip tightened, and he shook me a little. “I don’t care,” he said, sounding desperate. “You don’t get to do that. You stay by me.”

  “You think he’s coming.”

  “I know he is.” His eyes burned. I saw a flash of fangs.

  “With others. Omegas. Osmond. Robert.”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He’ll come either way. Alone. With an army. He’ll come.”

  “For you. Because you’re the Bennett Alpha.”

  “Yes.”

  “This is our territory.”

  “Yes.”

  “It belonged to your father.”

  “Yes.”

  “He can’t take this.” I bared my teeth. “Not from you. Not from us. Not from our fucking pack.”

  “Yes,” the wolf said, all snarls and fire.

  I kissed him then. Because it was the right thing to do. Because it was the only thing I wanted to do.

  He kissed me back, urgent and harsh. A single fang pricked my lip, and I tasted the sharp tang of blood, my blood, between us.

  “Alpha,” he whispered against me.

  And I thought yes and yes and yes.

  this empty shell/heartbeat

  A WEEK after the call with Michelle Hughes, I stood watching Elizabeth sashay through the kitchen. It was a Sunday. And I’d told her we should have dinner with everyone. Because it was tradition.

  Her eyes got very bright at that. She patted my hand, and we both ignored the roughness in her voice when she said, “That’d be nice, Ox. That’d be really nice.”

  The humans in my (our our our) pack were outside setting the table. Or rather, Jessie was, and Tanner, Rico, and Chris were drinking beer and sitting in frayed lawn chairs they’d pulled out of nowhere.

  Gordo was with them, and I could see him trying. Trying to find his way back to them. Trying to forge the bonds that had been there before. Because even if they hadn’t known, even though none of them were wolves, they’d still been his pack longer than anyone else. He needed them. Like he needed me. It was slow going, given the long history between them. They understood. Mostly.

  Carter and Kelly were manning the grill. Robbie was trying hard not to shadow Kelly too much. After that first meeting where Joe and I had told them about combining the packs, Robbie had pulled back, had softened slightly around the others, less bristling and sharp edges. It helped that he had started to divert his attention away from me. Joe, possessive bastard that he was, was amused by the whole thing, especially seeing the bewildered look on Kelly’s face.

  Joe was walking in the trees somewhere. An Alpha needed to be in touch with his territory. I’d told him I’d go with him, but he’d shaken his head. “It’ll be fine, Ox,” he’d said before he disappeared into the woods.

  And so it was just Elizabeth and I. The salad I’d tossed was ready in the large plastic bowl. She hadn’t given me another task. So I waited. It felt like the right thing to do.

  Eventually, she stopped dancing to that song that only she could hear.

  She said, “Ox.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Then, “What is?”

  She smiled but didn’t look up from the potato salad she was stirring.

  “This. Us. You and I. All of them.”

  And it was. So I told her so.

  She said, “I didn’t expect this.”

  “What?”

  “That we could have this again.”

  “I wanted you to,” I said. “I wanted you to have all of this again. After.”

  She nodded. “I know you did. But you couldn’t. Not right away.”

  I shrugged, trying to keep cool. “I don’t know.”

  She glanced up at me. “You did,” she said. “I know you.”

  She did. Very well. If I’d thought my heart could take it, I would have called her Mother. But hearts are a funny thing; they beat strongly in our chests, even though they can shatter at the slightest pressure.

  She heard all I couldn’t say. Part of it was the threads between us. Most of it was because she was Elizabeth Bennett. She just knew.

  She said, “He needed to come home. For me. For us. But for you most of all, I think.”

  “He missed us all the same,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes, something she so rarely did that it still always made me smile every time it happened. “Sure,” she said. “I know that. I am aware of that. But it was for you, Oxnard. Even if you don’t believe it. Even if you don’t understand it. He came here for you.”

  She stared at me as if daring me to contradict her.

  I said, “Okay. Yeah. Maybe.”

  She huffed. “You’ve settled into your skin since he’s been back. You were the Alpha before. But it’s different now.”

  “Is it?”

  “You know it is. And Joe. He….” She sighed and looked away. “One day, a very long time ago, my son was taken from me by a monster. I’d always told my son that there was nothing to fear. That I wouldn’t let anything hurt him. But I lied, because he did get hurt. Badly. Over many weeks. I heard him crying when… when the monster called us. I heard him crying for me. I wanted—” She broke off and shook her head.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said hoarsely.

  Her eyes flashed orange as she looked up at me. “I do,” she snapped. “I do. Because you don’t see your own merit. Still. After all this time. We found him, Ox. We found Joe and he was broken. He was weak and starved and broken. He flinched at everything. And for a while, I don’t think he even knew who we were. And when he did know, when he remembered us, he cowered away because that… that man, that terrible man had told him we didn’t love him, that we never wanted him, that he was never meant to be an Alpha.”

  Her claws came out as she gripped the countertop.

  She said, “And I despaired over him. Because I didn’t know what to do. I loved him more than I had ever loved anything. I thought maybe that alone would be enough. To bring him back. To put his pieces together again. But it wasn’t enough. Richard Collins had only taken weeks to destroy the little boy I’d known. He was this shell, okay? This empty shell, and I didn’t know how to fix it. And then, Ox. Oh, and then there was you.”

  She was crying, and I didn’t know how we’d gotten here. I knew the other wolves could hear her too, but they weren’t busting in through the door. They were waiting. For what, I didn’t know.

  “You came,” she said. “And he brought you home, like some
thing he’d found in the woods. And the look on your face that first day. You were so nervous. So sweetly shy. You didn’t understand what was happening. You couldn’t. But I did, Ox. And Thomas did. Because Joe spoke. He spoke to you. He made the choice, even if he didn’t know what it meant. You were his, Ox. Even then. And he was yours.”

  I couldn’t speak. I had no words left. Because this was the first time I’d seen her cry. Even after Thomas, she’d grieved as a wolf. So this was new, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. It didn’t help that her words were hitting me hard in the chest, and I almost couldn’t breathe.

  “And he had to leave again,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Whether or not it was right, whether or not he should have, he did. They told me. About him. Carter and Kelly. How he closed down like before. How he gave himself over to the wolf. How he didn’t speak for months and months. And yet, the moment he comes home, the moment he sees you again, he finds his voice like he’d never lost it at all. So don’t you say that you’re not worth it. Don’t you think you’re not good enough. Because you have brought my son back to me again and again, and even if you weren’t my Alpha, even if you weren’t the one my son chose, I would be indebted to you for that. You’ve given him back to us, Ox. And no one can take that away from you.”

  She laughed then, her cheeks wet, eyes red, but only in a human way.

  I said, “I” and “I just” and “I want to be who you think I am.”

  She said, “Ox. Ox, can’t you see? I don’t think. I know.”

  She was light on her feet, three steps and she was pressed against me, hands curled between us, her head pressed against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her close, and there were those threads between us, and she pushed her way through them, singing pack and son and love and home.

  After a time, I said, “It’s tradition, I guess.”

  She rubbed her face against my shirt. “It is,” she said.

  “Everything okay?” a voice said from the doorway.

  She laughed again and stepped away from me.

  “Everything’s fine,” she told Joe. “Ox and I were… well. I suppose that’s it. Ox and I were.”

  Joe nodded, looking concerned.

  “I should get this out there,” Elizabeth said, a smile on her face. She took the potato salad and went out the door without looking back.