by Sonja Bair
David, still in wolf form, was standing at the top of the cliff, panting and peering down at the bloody mess below. I settled down next to him.
“So I rode a boar today,” I said in the most casual tone I could muster.
David looked up at me, pushed his lips back in that distinct canine smile, and wagged his tail once.
“How are Rex, Pedro, and Gina’s injuries?” I asked.
He tilted his head slightly. Not great, but decent. He was excellent at this nonverbal communication thing.
“Why didn’t Gina stop the hunt with the rest of us? Especially after your warning.”
He squinted in frustration.
“Okay, that’s a conversation we’ll have later.”
The pack reassembled around Rex. As soon as she returned, tail between her legs, Gina was sent back to the cars to grab a first aid kit. In the meantime, Philip reset Rex’s hind leg, which had been snapped by the trap. When Gina returned with the first aid kit, he treated her twin’s open wound then splinted the broken leg, and within minutes, Rex was bandaged and looking better. With the quick healing that all supernaturals possess, Philip predicted that he would be good as new within a few days, but for at least twenty-four hours, he should remain in wolf form.
Pedro had already transformed back to human. His wounds from the trap were much less significant—a shoulder pulled out of joint and a shallow cut. And Gina, well, nobody was giving Gina much sympathy for the gouge on her side from the boar’s tusk. It needed bandaging, which Philip did promptly. It would heal fine within a few hours and would serve her right for attacking a boar by herself when the rest of the pack was dealing with injured friends.
Damages dealt with, David turned to the pack and put his arm around my shoulder. “There is one more thing that needs to be addressed tonight. Freya has participated in her first hunt as a pack member, and not only that, but she can take credit for the kill.” He paused, letting the words soak in.
“Easy as pie,” I said, smirking. “Flying boar pie.”
Philip chuckled loudly. Pedro slowly smiled, but it wasn’t a comforting smile. It dripped dark humor. Even Rex in wolf form appeared to think that something was funny. And it dawned on me that they weren’t amused by my comment; there was some underlying current that I didn’t understand.
David continued, “So the honor of the kill goes to Freya tonight. According to werewolf tradition stretching back in time as long as hunting itself, Freya will get first spoils of the boar.” He turned to me, looked me straight in the eye, and once again used his phenomenal nonverbal communication. And I got his message.
Nodding briefly, I squared my shoulders and lifted my head high. “It is an honor I acknowledge and accept.” And without further ado, I turned and began walking toward the gravel pit.
“Hold on, Freya. We’ll join you. Give us a minute to change,” David called after me.
It took my packmates more than a minute to change back into werewolves. The rapid switching back and forth had taken a toll on all of them. Normally, the transition was almost beautiful to watch, with fur rolling over their bodies, which flowed into the lupine stance. This time it looked painful, bones creaking and bending at unnatural angles.
When everyone was ready, we ran and flew as a pack to the edge of the gravel pit, moving at a stately pace to allow Rex to keep up with us. At the cliff, the werewolves paused until David spotted a path down to the bottom, and the pack continued. I took the straight and easy—for me—way down.
The body of the boar was a mess, but it appeared his death was quick and for that, I was glad. I knelt down beside him and thought through the last hour. I never was, and never would be, a passionate hunter. But these wild pigs were destroying the habitats of the native flora and fauna. They were not a natural part of the ecosystem, but the folly of human meddling. My pack and I had helped restore some order to the land, and I was proud of my role in it.
Soft fur brushed against my arm—David. The pack was already down on the gravel pit floor, but had moved so silently that I hadn’t heard them. Standing up, I looked to David for help. I knew the task ahead of me, but I had no idea where to start. Luckily, he understood my predicament and got me moving on the right path.
Chapter 22
“Thank you, Freya,” David whispered into my ear. The porch swing which we were sitting on creaked as we gently rocked. Rex was inside resting, the broken leg healing. Although supernaturals heal fast, it requires a lot of energy and therefore a lot of sleep. Gina was inside playing around on the internet, sulking. A few minutes ago, David and I had sat down with her and had a serious discussion about her actions during the hunt. Settling down beside her, I had started the conversation, applying all those “I feel” phrases to talk about her reckless behavior of leaving injured packmates and pursuing the wild pig by herself. After I had used all the positive communication skills I could muster, David ripped her a new one for about five minutes straight. There was nary an “I feel” phrase to be heard. Good cop, bad cop, I guess.
Glancing up at him on the swing, I cocked my head to the side. “There are many things you should be thanking me for, but what in particular are you talking about?”
“After the kill, you didn’t hesitate to take out the liver and eat a few bites.”
I shrugged. “It’s part of the werewolf thing. And as much as it is weird to say this, it wasn’t half bad.”
A common tradition from time immemorial is for the hunter who made the final kill to get the prime spoils of hunt. And so it was for the werewolf culture. Ordinarily, even the idea of eating a fresh, raw pig liver would have turned my stomach inside out. But not today. Today, the connection between me and my pack burned strong and not only had I made the kill, but I was their Alpha leader. Never hesitating, I savored the rich, dense flavor of the liver. My pack had looked on, smiles on their wolf-y faces. Their pride in me emanated back through the connections of the pack. After the first few bites, I offered the rest of the organ to the pack—and it was gone in a matter of a few minutes. Tonight had elevated my sense of Alpha to new levels.
Snapping back to the present, I turned to David. “I‘m going to enjoy telling Tilde about the hunt.”
“You don’t have to prove your Alpha status to anyone.” His hand rested on the back of my neck and squeezed gently. “Tonight, every werewolf in our pack was excited to have you as Alpha. Who in the world jumps on a boar and rides him off a cliff?”
“A crazy one. And I hope I didn’t get flea bites from that boar. A wild pig seems like something that would be riddled with fleas.”
Laughing at my ridiculous, but very true, concern, he slid his hand down from my neck and wrapped it around my shoulder. The night was cooling so I allowed his arm to stay in order to leech off some of his body heat.
“So you were pretty harsh with Gina tonight. Is that part of werewolf tradition as well?” I asked.
“Actually, I went light on her. In almost every other pack, there would have been physical punishment for her actions.”
“But you chose not to do physical punishment. Why not?”
“Our pack is non-traditional in so many ways; why not this way? Mother wolves don’t tear apart their pups for misbehaving, so why should werewolves? If I would have been Alpha in Santa Fe, I believe I would have stopped the physical punishment eventually. But with you as my Alpha co-leader, I certainly can’t hurt pack members now. I don’t know why Fate decided you should be part of this pack, but I’m guessing that Fate also wanted to stir up some werewolf traditions.”
Pushing the swing back and forth, I thought about his words for a minute.
“Two thoughts about that. One: you put some heavy responsibility on me—to change thousands of years of werewolf history with my mere presence. Two: you say Fate—what do you consider Fate to be controlled by? Do you believe in God?”
His hand around my shoulder pulled me closer and he leaned down to rest his chin on top of my head. His movement tucked me into the s
ide of his body—he radiated heat and I scooted closer to take advantage of the warmth. But then my head was cocked at an uncomfortable angle so I gave up and leaned it against his broad chest. His heartbeat was loud under my ear. We stayed like that for a few rocks of the swing before he answered my questions.
“To respond to your first point, I will make what seems like a non sequitur—you need to trust yourself more. You don’t have to do anything, just be yourself. Your actions speak much louder than anything you could say. And like I’ve said now several times, don’t change yourself. Fate put you in this position for a reason and trying to force yourself to change would be denying that reason. So Freya, please, don’t try to prove yourself to anyone. You are beautiful as you are.
“And to respond to your second thought—yes, I do believe in God. I’m sitting outside on a swing on a gorgeous California night with a smart, beautiful woman cuddled next to me. How could there not be a God?”
His words prompted me to start squirming out of his embrace. I realized our relationship was in a weird fuzzy area and my actions were probably leading him on. But he merely tightened his grip on me, trapping me under arms seemingly made of steel, and continued talking.
“But that woman hasn’t realized yet that she can’t help but fall deeply and utterly in love with me too, so I won’t push her on it right now. Instead I’ll merely thank the Lord that He made the world so wonderful to include sunsets, oceans, Alva, werewolves, and lions and tigers and bears.”
I stopped squirming and leaned back against his chest.
“Darn it, David. You are a dangerous man. I’ve always thought that.”
His chuckle rumbled in his chest. “We have been so busy with one crisis after another, we haven’t had much time to relax and be with each other. It’s important for co-Alphas to get to know each other and understand each other.”
“Hmmm. Maybe. So tell me something that I don’t know about you already.”
“Okay. Give me a second to think of something.”
Listening to his steady heartbeat, I pulled my feet up and tucked them beside me. For better or worse, I was now completely snuggled up against David. A part of me protested that I hadn’t committed to a relationship yet; the larger part of me couldn’t dredge up the energy to pull away.
“Here’s something—it has to do with the token I gave during our ceremony. My brother is nine years younger than me. My parents had me right away after they got married, but for some reason, they struggled to have a second child. So I remember my brother, Matthew, coming home from the hospital as this ugly, shriveled, tomato-like newborn who wouldn’t stop crying. Being a nine-year-old boy, I was less than thrilled at his arrival. On the other hand, my parents were so busy taking care of the new baby, they didn’t have as much time to keep an eye on me.
“I’ve always had a talent for entrepreneurship, and there was a new video game that I desperately wanted, so I started a poker club in the treehouse in our backyard. All the neighborhood kids got into it, and at any given time, there were at least four or five of us kids with all our allowance money in our pockets and poker chips spread out in front of us. But here’s the thing: I didn’t know how to play poker. Before starting the club, I had looked up the rules in this dusty old book about card games my dad owned, but the rules were too tedious and long for me to follow. Instead, I decided to make up the rules as I went, since none of the other kids knew the rules either. Needless to say, I profited highly from these poker games.
“I had bought my video game and was getting very close to buying a second when some kid broke our vow of silence when his dad asked why he didn’t have any more allowance money. His dad told my dad and let me tell you, he was not pleased. And my dad didn’t have my aversion to physical punishment. Plus, I ended up having to sell my video game and return every single penny I had taken from other kids.”
David succeeded in making me laugh loud enough to scare a cat from the neighbor’s porch. Through my laughter, a thought came to me. Placing my hand on his chest, I looked up at him. “But how did you know how much money you took from each kid?”
“Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, I was a strict bookkeeper even then. I had meticulously written down every financial interaction in this mega awesome Batman notebook.”
“So the take-away lesson that you learned from that episode was…” I paused and David finished for me.
“Don’t put shady transactions on paper.”
“Exactly,” I said with a smile. “And do you know how to play real poker now?”
“That was the other part of it. After a few months had passed and I built my allowance stash back up, my dad sat down and taught me how to play. Within a few rounds, he had swept away all my money. He said it was a lesson on not taking advantage of other people’s inexperience or lack of power.”
“Smart dad.”
“Very smart. And, of course, it was a lesson that all us werewolves, especially Alphas, need to learn well. But then again, maybe the lesson was wasted, because I didn’t let the loss keep me down. Instead, I secretly practiced poker every day for a few weeks and then challenged him.”
“Did you win?”
“Nope. But it took a few more rounds to lose than the last time. I kept practicing and challenging him until I did start to win. Within a year, I was a pretty decent player and card games became a valued ritual between my dad and me until he died.”
“There’s a lesson in that as well,” I said softly.
“Yeah, and part of me wonders if he knew I couldn’t stand losing and would keep at it until I won.” He leaned back and looked at me. “Now that I’ve told you about my life of crime, you have to tell me something.”
“I’ve never considered having a life of crime. I’d break down and confess everything under a harsh glance.”
“We’ll have to work on that. With looks like yours, you could get away with stealing the crown jewels.”
“Perhaps we should. Tiaras have always brought out that certain sparkle in my eyes… Oh, here’s a story. It’s not about any felony, but it’s about how Elin and I got into some big trouble.”
While I pulled the pieces of my memory together to form a story, David rested his chin on top of my head again. The feeling of warmth, acceptance, and safety radiated around me.
“So Elin was in middle school and I was maybe in fifth grade. I had two broken wrists from my latest misadventure with flying the day before. They were healing quickly, but I still had to wear casts for a day or two to assure that they healed right. Seeing as I couldn’t do most of my favorite activities, I started channeling my ‘inner grumpo-saurus,’ to quote my dad, and was picking fights with Elin. My mother eventually got so sick of our bickering, she tossed us outside with strict orders that we couldn’t come in until we could behave ourselves.
“Once we were outside, Elin tried to get away from me, but in that weird way that siblings have, although I was supremely irritated at her, I didn’t want her to go, either. I chased her down the block, yelling all sorts of horrible things. I think my favorite insult at the time was the always classic poopy sockhead. Anyway, we got to the end of the block and there’s a tall chain link fence. Elin tried to climb over it and I, the kid who was banned from the gifted and talented class without ever trying to get in, decided to show her who’s better at heights. And I started to release my wings. Not a good idea. Although in certain remote parts of Sweden, it’s an open secret that Alva exist, the suburbs of Chicago are not familiar with our type. So Elin sees me starting to sprout wings and, being the smarter of the two of us, yelled at me to stop.
“But it was too late. Although I realized my mistake almost immediately, my full wings were out for a couple seconds. Both of us froze, hearts racing, and looked around to see if anyone caught a glimpse of what I did. At first, it looked like I might have lucked out, but then Elin spotted someone on the other side of the fence, halfway down the next street, sitting on a tree stump in an old, abandoned, empty l
ot. And he was staring straight at us. Elin and I immediately forgot our squabbles and took off sprinting back home as if the devil was behind us. We ran inside, slamming and locking the door behind us. I think I hid under my bed and Elin hid in her closet.
“After about five minutes, our parents managed to drag us both out into the living room and made us explain what happened. They were rightfully upset, but at the same time strangely understanding. Looking back at it, I think they expected something like this to eventually happen. Being a supernatural is a big secret for a little kid to keep. I don’t think I even got punished, besides that one stern conversation. My mom told me that I needed to be more careful but most likely the man would think it was a trick of the light or his mind and dismiss what he saw.
“But he didn’t. About seven o’clock that night, our doorbell rang. My dad opened the door and I got a glimpse of the same man we saw on the other side of the fence. I started booking it back to my room to hide under my bed again, but my dad grabbed a handful of my shirt before I could get past him. My heart was almost hammering out of my chest right then, but my dad was as cool as a cucumber. Then he and the man had the oddest conversation. The man mentioned nothing about me and my now-absent wings. Instead, they discussed my dad’s classic Mustang, which was parked in the driveway. The strange man claimed to be a Mustang aficionado as well and wanted to meet the person who owned such a fine car. They talked for about five minutes and then he left. No mention of anything supernatural. My dad later dismissed the whole episode as the man checking to make sure I really didn’t have wings and once he saw me looking normal, he dismissed what he saw as a trick of his eyes. I wasn’t so convinced and kept looking for him to show up for the next few months. The whole thing taught me a lesson about how valuable my secret was.”
