Blazing blue light bored into his eyes, making him wonder if he really had died, but when he blinked, he saw the blue was a pair of human eyes staring out at him from a broad, handsome wolf face. It was an alpha, snarling and furious.
Jack closed his eyes and passed out.
Chapter 3
Tristan gasped and shuddered, staring down at the dead omega at his feet. His thoughts were furious and whirling, adrenaline pumping so hard in his veins that all he wanted to do was throw his head back and howl until he became human again.
Blood soaked the whole left side of his body, some of it his from the terrible wounds he’d sustained in the short fight, but most of it came from the crumpled wolf lying bent and broken on the pine needles.
What was that? What the fuck was that?
He hadn’t been able to see it clearly for some reason, the exact right circumstances at play in the environment for it to be obscured from his view. And then when he was on top of it and clawing it to shreds, biting at it, he had been too close to get an idea of what it was. The reek of it clung in his nostrils, cloying and terrible and thick. He snorted, trying to get it out, but only succeeded in sucking back in another nose full of the stench.
Even so, not having gotten a good look at that awful creature, he could tell that it was a shifter of some sort. Now, looking at the marks on the tiny wolf’s body in front of him, he flashed back to an instance only a year ago.
Tristan was an alpha. These days, he was the alpha, the leader of his pack, but only a year ago he had been nothing more than a tender-footed pup still, bringing up the rear of the hunt behind his elder alphas. Always at the very front of the hunts were his parents, an alpha pair who ruled the pack with love and fairness. His father was white and kind, while his mother was silver and ferocious, with a tongue that could lick insults steadily into any emotional wound. With his father’s patience and his mother’s strictness, Tristan knew the pack had never seen better days.
They were the Barrows, protectors of Portland who came to be that way because of an old pact made back in the days of the city’s founding. Even today, that pact held strong. At night, they roamed the city in pairs or as a small group, ensuring as much safety as tooth and claw could provide. It was dangerous and proud work, and Tristan’s parents had seen the city to its safest state in decades.
But then, one awful day, Tristan came back from a lone hunt, dragging a fine young stag in his jaws. He arrived at their camp, deep in the mountains, but his parents weren’t there.
They weren’t anywhere.
For three days, the mountains rang with wolf song as the search for their alphas carried on, until one day they were found. Their bodies were floating, rotten and swollen, in the stream nearby, as dead as anyone could ever be. They were nearly torn apart with great ripping claw wounds dragged across their flesh. Parts of them also looked to have been crushed.
Tristan remembered vividly the sight of those wounds. He never wanted to forget.
Under his rule as alpha, however, the pack’s safety came first over the city, so they patrolled the mountains and the parks endlessly but had never found another sign of an attack like that.
Until now.
The dead omega’s flanks were ripped open to the point where Tristan could see the outline of his muscles and the way they wrapped about his ribs. His legs were twisted beneath him, and his entire back was soaked with red.
I wonder what he saw, Tristan thought, so bitter it hurt. It hurt worse than any wound. He had been so close to killing the thing that hurt his parents, but its fur was so thick he hadn’t been able to hang onto it. It tossed him and then ran away surprisingly fast, throwing itself haphazardly down the mountainside.
Even more than he wondered what this corpse’s now-blind eyes had glimpsed, he wondered who it was. He had been patrolling alone this evening, chased away from his own camp by a furious argument with a packmate, and that was the only reason he stumbled across this scene. And this wolf, he had never seen it before. It was a scrawny little thing, too blood-streaked to discern its color, although it was male from the scent. An omega male, wandering where it had no right to be.
A sigh gusted out of his lungs. He couldn’t leave the body of another shifter out here to be defiled by scavengers. He would need to bring it back to his people for a proper burial.
Lowering his snout to see about carrying the little thing on his back like a pup, Tristan suddenly stopped and sniffed harder.
Was that...
Lightly, he lay one paw against the omega’s ruined flank. It moved.
Not dead!
Whining and yapping, he licked the omega’s muzzle to see if it would awaken, but he was too near death to do anything at all. His lungs rasped harshly, breaths rapid and shallow to the point where they could hardly be detected at all. Tristan let his eyes travel along the wolf again, wondering if there was anything else about him that he had missed, but there wasn’t. Blood continued to spill from his wounds, however, and he knew that he would be dead very soon if help wasn’t given to him right this instant.
If this omega had seen anything at all, he couldn’t die. Tristan had to know.
He would be easier to carry if Tristan turned back into a human, but he needed the speed of his animal form. Nudging his nose again at the omega’s body, Tristan nuzzled himself up underneath the small wolf, using his head and small jumps of his body to get the small male draped over his back. Then, he took off running as fast as he had ever run before, stretching out his paws and kicking out his powerful back legs. Every stride was a lunge, every step a leap. The sound of thundering footsteps echoed through the pine forest, startling sleeping birds and sending a raccoon chattering angrily away.
His breath burned in his lungs, his eyes straining for any sign of anyone who might be able to help him. Of course there was no one; every member of his pack probably giving him a wide berth at his outburst earlier. That was infuriating now, especially when he knew Agatha was out of the park for the moment and would need to be sent for, but there was nothing he could do but try to run even faster.
Tristan was distinctly aware of two things as he ran. The first thing was most prominent and startling: blood. His own wounds were stinging at him but nowhere near deadly. Meanwhile, on top of him, the omega was pouring blood that soaked into Tristan’s raised scruff, streaming down his spine. His paws were wet with it, and he knew he was leaving a trail of scarlet behind.
The second thing was perhaps more disturbing than anything else, although it was a distinctly unimportant thing: he was an alpha, beneath an omega. That went against his very nature.
For most shapeshifters, especially those who were predators, the divide between alpha and omega was very clear. Alphas were larger and more aggressive, while omegas tended to be daintier and sweeter. Most pairs were one of each, although there were exceptions. Still, alphas were always going to be the ones on top, with their pick of anything they desired.
To be underneath...it was odd. There was an urge in his heart to toss the omega from his back and drag him instead, but he knew that would result in death.
He actually didn’t even know if the omega was still alive as he carried him. Racing and leaping so carelessly through the forest like this, constantly adjusting for his step just at the last second to avoid harm or a fall, took up all of his concentration. His body heaved and shook. The omega’s breathing, if there was any, was undetectable beneath the stronger sensations.
Night had truly fallen by the time he was almost all the way back at the camp. He glimpsed a glow of campfire in the distance, flames flickering and dancing to add yet another layer of depth to the darkness. Here and there, an orange flash illuminated a hard, strict line that could only be the side of a building.
“Tristan!” someone shouted, their voice a bark. Tristan swung his head around and skidded to a halt in front of a young woman, who covered her mouth and gagged at the stench of blood. “You’re hurt!”
The omega was thi
n and both of them were bloody to the point where it was hard to tell where one of them began and the other ended. Rapidly, Tristan transformed into a human, forcing his changing body to wrap around the little wolf so that he ended up standing with it in his arms. He stood there, naked and soaked in blood from head to toe, and the young woman lurched backwards. “What...”
“No time to explain,” he snarled. “Just fetch Agatha at once. Run like the deer.”
He hadn’t even finished speaking before the young woman transformed. Her form was a red wolf, slender and swift. She was gone in an instant, the last sight of her being a flip of her ruddy tail in the moonlight before she bunched up her haunches and launched herself down from the top of a boulder nearby.
The omega in his arms was no bigger than a medium-sized dog. Tristan held him easily and sprinted the last bit of distance to his camp.
At this time of night, it was just before many of his hunters would range out away from the camp to see what they could catch, if anything. Many wolf hunts were often unsuccessful. To combat that, their pack had formed a ritual that he did not know if others followed as well: the entire pack gathered in the middle of the camp around a fire, alphas and omegas, mothers and teachers, pups and elders alike, to sing and howl, and to share stories, and talk of the day. It relaxed those who were about to sleep and invigorated those who were about to get to work with a renewed sense of purpose.
Now, Tristan walked in on that ritual, but everyone had sensed his coming. Most of them stood and stared at him, their expressions confused and wary. A few had transformed into wolves and were snarling because shapeshifters prefer to be angry at something rather than to face the unknown.
“Who is that?” a voice raised up, questioning and afraid. “Is it a wolf? One of ours?”
“You killed it!”
“Tristan, what have you done?”
Tristan shook his head, knowing exactly what he looked like but also knowing that if he got defensive, it would not work in his favor. “I found this strange wolf being attacked by something. I don’t know what it was, but his wounds match those of my parents.”
A round of gasps went up at his words. One of the wolves threw back its head and let out an alarmed bark.
“We aren’t safe, then.”
Tristan nodded at the alpha who had spoken, a rough black male with scars on his face. “Right. You were about to hunt. Take three alphas with you. Keep your eye out. And you, Peter,” Tristan nodded at a smart, bespectacled omega, “I want you to divide the rest of the pack. Those who must be protected, stay. The rest, divide them up so that they are all equal. Some to patrol from all directions and the rest to keep guard over camp.”
Peter snapped into action, standing up and starting to gesture around and call out names. Despite his odd nature and the fact that he was completely asexual, Tristan trusted the smart little wolf. He was analytical, a good advisor; taking a moment to watch him now and noting how he took care of the women and children first, he knew he had made the right decision.
One of his packmates called out to him. “Is that kid dead?”
Tristan said, “I don’t know. If he isn’t already, he will be soon. I sent for Agatha already.”
“Better hope she gets here in time.”
I am hoping. I’m praying.
An alpha approached him, head down. “Permission to speak with you, Tristan?”
“Granted,” Tristan said warily, “but make it quick.”
“I know this wolf. At least, I’ve heard of him, I think. I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I was in the city today and saw a brown dog attack a little girl. Reports of it reached us, too. Pretty fast, since it didn’t happen that long ago. Looking back now, I think it was him.”
Tristan’s blood ran cold. Was he trying to save a monster?
“Did you hear anything else?” he asked hoarsely.
“Well, some of the reports say he pushed her out of the way of a car. I guess we won’t know for sure.”
“I see,” Tristan said slowly. Judgment would have to wait. “Thank you for telling me. Please return to your duties.”
The alpha backed away, and Tristan started to move. He was distinctly aware of all the eyes on him as he moved, heading for his home. It was one of the smallest buildings at the camp, but it was all he needed. The interior was even more modest than the outside, with minimal furnishings. The foyer opened up into a tiny living room that had several giant, fake plants in each corner. The floorboards were bare and wooden except for where he had laid down a rug in the middle of the room, upon which sat a rickety futon. Aside from some adornments on the walls, keepsakes from his parents’ days as leaders of the pack, that was all.
Tristan took the omega past all that, heading past a compact kitchen and into a tight hallway. There were two doorways there, one of which led to an old-fashioned bathroom, and the other of which was his bedroom.
Heading inside his bedroom now, Tristan lay down the omega and then placed a hand over his heart. It was pattering, barely detectable. The stench of blood was all around, and the wolf was soaked in it from head to toe now. Immediately, his sheets were damp all the way through.
“Damn,” Tristan said, his voice hoarse not just from his recent transformation. He had never seen such brutal injuries on a creature that lived before. As a matter of fact, he had only seen one other time injuries that were this bad. When hunting, deaths were swift. And when his alphas sparred with each other, as was their way, it was for dominance only. Often there was no bloodshed at all within his pack.
But this? Whatever that shapeshifter had been, it only wanted to cause pain and suffering. Death was a secondary goal.
“What can I do to make you live?” he asked, expecting no answer and receiving none. Hopefully, the doctor would be back soon, but he needed to do something in the meantime to ensure that she had a patient.
Heading to his closet in the hallway, he tore an armful of sheets and towels off the shelves and dropped them on the floor. Grabbing up one, he folded it and then proceeded to wrap it the best he could, tightly, around the omega. He did that again and again, but it seemed that no matter how many layers he added, he just felt the blood right through the fabrics again immediately. It was hot and sticky against his fingers, drenching his skin. He would need days for the smell to wear off, thick and coppery.
Finally, not knowing what else to do, he just picked up the last sheet and lay it over the rapidly-weakening omega wolf. He wasn’t even shivering or gasping, or moving at all. Every ounce of his body’s effort was straining to keep him alive for even an instant longer, and Tristan had no idea if it was going to be enough.
Surging to his feet again, he ran back over to his door and threw it open, looking around outside anxiously. Peter had done his job well, as most of the other wolves were already departed. The females and pups were nowhere to be seen, which meant they were all tucked away safely inside their homes.
“If anyone sees Agatha, send her straight to my home without delay!” he called out. “Spread the word!”
“Yes, Tristan,” Peter said absentmindedly.
With a growl of frustration, Tristan withdrew back inside his home and began to pace. His thoughts whirled in endless circles with his body as he marched around and around the same short path through his house. His heart pounded wildly with the beat of his footsteps. And to think he had set out on his walk alone, fuming from an old argument!
That seemed very far away now.
Chapter 4
Over the course of the next half an hour, Tristan became convinced that Agatha wouldn’t make it in time to save the omega dying in his bed. He paced until his legs ached, until he had transformed into a wolf and back at least fifteen times out of pure frustration. His head ached from stress. His vision swam before his eyes, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in hours, and also that he himself wasn’t entirely unharmed. Add onto that all the running he’d done, and he was in some pretty bad shape.
But, a
s far as he was concerned, that didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. The health and safety of the pack came first. Even if this omega wasn’t from his own pack, that didn’t really matter. All wolves had the same right to life as far as he was concerned, unless it turned out that this omega was a piece of shit who attacked children. That happened, sometimes. Shifters could be just as bad as some people were, and sometimes the animal side took over. That was called going feral, and it usually didn’t end well.
Somehow though, Tristan got a feeling that this omega wasn’t dangerous or a piece of shit at all. Hell, he could hardly tell what the little wolf normally looked like, but he bet it was small and cute.
He had a thing for small, cute men.
This is no time for dumb feelings like that, he scolded himself. Just then, he heard a high-pitched howl and knew—or hoped, or feared—exactly what it meant. Leaping out of his room and to the front door, he jerked it open and thrust his head outside. There, running past the campfire with their pelts blazing in its shimmering light, were two wolves. One was red and slender, the runner he had sent.
The other was a gigantic female with pretty grey fur, turning white around the muzzle and ears with old age. Neither alpha nor omega, she was oudeteros, which was simply an unnecessarily complicated word that meant “neutral.” She was born to be a healer and fulfilled that role daily.
Now, she transformed into a blonde woman in her mid-forties, with steely eyes. “Tristan,” she said rapidly, “I came as swiftly as I could. Where is it?”
Part of him was grateful that she completely ignored his own injuries. Treating him would just waste valuable time.
“He’s in my room,” Tristan said quickly.
Agatha nodded. “Very well. Please fetch my bag,” she commanded the red wolf. “It’s in my clinic on one of the shelves. It looks like a briefcase.” The wolf nodded and shot off again, hardly panting at all even after her lengthy run down to the city and back. “Now, Tristan, show me this omega.”
Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 33
