Abigail fixed him with a stern glare but then she leaped at him and came crashing down heavily on his back. All the breath huffed out of his lungs as he collapsed fully under her weight. The ground beneath them slanted down and they tumbled, yelping and wriggling against each other until they came rolling to a gentle stop in a patch of ferns.
Lying on his side, surrounded by the grassy smell of crushed fronds, Keiran panted happily. The white parts of his pelt were stained with green, and Abigail looked like she’d jumped in a vat of dye.
Then, suddenly, there was no longer a white wolf in the ferns but a young woman with blonde hair. Delicate fingers smoothed the skirt of a dress over her bare legs. “Well,” Abigail said. “I guess we aren’t going to harvest any mint today.”
“Why not?” Keiran transformed back to a human as well.
In answer, Abigail gestured back up the hill. Keiran followed her gesture and saw the distinctive purple blossoms of wild mint. Now that he was aware of it, he could smell the pungent sharpness of the plant. It was even stronger than normal and now he saw why: in their roll down the hill, they’d crushed almost all of the plants. The stalks were bent, the flowers pulverized, and the leaves already seemed to be wilting.
“Dammit,” Keiran muttered. His skin prickled all over with embarrassed heat and he stared down at his hands. “That’s my fault.”
“Not really,” Abigail replied. She scooted across the space between them and patted him on the shoulder. The gesture was as light as air. “I’m the one who knocked us down the side.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who wanted to play in the first place when you’re supposed to be working.” Keiran kept on looking down, too ashamed to meet that gentle green gaze even though he could feel she genuinely wasn’t mad at him. “And now I’ve killed the plants. Dammit. I can’t do anything right.”
“By all means, beat yourself up over something that you couldn’t have predicted.”
He looked up before remembering that he didn’t want to see her eyes, too surprised by the sharp sarcasm coming from the mouth of a woman with such a sweet disposition.
“And the plants aren’t dead,” she continued. “They’ll perk up as long as we leave them alone. And there are other patches, just not in this area. And you can do plenty of things right, Keiran. Stop being so harsh on yourself.”
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He couldn’t stop himself from looking back the way they’d come, as if he could see through all the hills and trees between them and the village. “Everyone else is harsh on me.”
“Or do you just think they are?”
As comforting an idea as that was, Keiran knew it wasn’t true. He shook his head. “No, I know they are. Because of my dad.”
Abigail’s shoulders slumped in admission, signaling that she knew exactly how right he was. Keiran’s uselessness in most areas of wolf life was well-known in their home. “Well, I’m not harsh on you. And I didn’t really need mint anyway. I just thought I’d keep an eye out for it if we came across any. Salem’s stomach is acting up again and I thought some fresh tea might help soothe him.” Before Keiran could start beating himself up again, she continued, “I have better herbs for it, but mint is his favorite. But my job as healer is to make people do things they don’t like, so it’s no big deal.”
Keiran sighed, but let himself be cheered up by her words anyway. Of all his catastrophic mistakes, at least this one wouldn’t do any lasting damage. Salem was as famous for his sensitive stomach as Keiran was for being a disgrace. “I wish blacksmithing came to me as easily as healing. Things would be so much easier.”
In their world, and especially in the world of predators, a person’s life was decided before they were born. Alpha and omegas alike were tied to their families, with sons and daughters expected to continue the family craft or marry into another. As some occupations naturally had more demand than others, those families were viewed as being wealthier. Those were the highborn shapeshifters like Abigail who often took on other special positions in society; Abigail was the daughter of a councilman, whose father was the village mayor, so she was a leader in training as well as a healer. Her place in life allowed for that.
Meanwhile, Keiran came from a line of blacksmiths and, in this day and age, blacksmiths weren’t as useful as they were in the past. In their kingdom of animal shapeshifters, known as Dexus, technology had moved on past the age where the makers of weapons were honored. Their village was on the outskirts of Dexus, which meant they were still a few decades behind the rest of the world, but Keiran’s family had still become little more than welders and menders of farming tools. That meant he was lowborn, and not suited for a doctor’s life.
Abigail regarded him in silence for a moment before speaking with carefully chosen words. “Why is smithing so hard for you?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. His hands clenched into fists, but he forced them to relax. Abigail was his friend, and they were in a place where no one could overhear him and get mad. He was as safe as he would ever be. “I mean, I understand how it works and what to do, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to know when to do this or that. I just don’t get it. And my Pa, he doesn’t know how to explain it to me because he just says I’m supposed to learn how to feel what I’m doing.”
“They call that intuition.”
“Well, I don’t have it.”
Abigail clapped her hands together, startling him. “Yes, you do! You’re great at learning what herbs do and how to combine them. You even know the best places to look for them.”
Keiran remembered the afternoons he’d spent, few and far between, in Abigail’s cabin. Well, her cabin was the traditional doctor’s cabin, where every village doctor had lived. The building was adjoined to the clinic, where she showed him how to store herbs so they retained their properties. She showed him her medicine cabinets and her rare stores of pills and medicines given to them in allotted amounts by Dexus’s healthcare system.
And then, there had been the days when she taught him how to treat patients, how to bind wounds and clean them. She had demonstrated only on unconscious shapeshifters, since anyone who saw Keiran in Abigail’s clinic would report him to the council. A lowborn learning a highborn craft was as illegal as murder. Well, almost.
I guess it’s true that I’ve thought of some combinations that Abigail didn’t think of before. And he did find herbs pretty easily, when he wasn’t rolling over them.
“That’s just not the same.”
“Why not? Metals have unique properties, too. A broken hoe could be kind of like setting and mending a broken bone, if you think about it.”
He hadn’t considered that before, and for a moment, he could almost feel himself growing excited about the idea. Why not apply his passion to his future job? But then, the more he thought about it, the thinner that idea became. It couldn’t support its own weight. “I wish it was that easy. But Abby, even if I learned how to be a blacksmith... it’s not healing.”
“I know,” she replied, and her voice contained all the sadness in the world for him. Somehow, though he shared her sadness, he also felt just a bit better. Having someone understand his plight was somehow even more important than solving the problem. “But don’t worry. When you get older—when we both get older, I mean—we’ll be a little more free. I’ll always be your friend.”
“I’ll always be your friend, too.” Keiran looked at her and smiled the best that he could. She would make someone a fine mate.
Abigail turned her head suddenly, listening. Keiran listened too, although all he could pick up was the howling of wind through the trees.
No, not the wind.
It was an actual wolf’s howl, rising distant but clear. The tone was as unique as a voice. “It’s my Pa,” Keiran said. His heart sank. He was being summoned back home.
“So it is,” Abigail said. “I guess you’d better get going on home then, huh?”
“Yeah.” He stood up. Abigail stayed sitting. “Rol
l around on some more herbs for me, okay?”
She laughed. “Absolutely. Race with the wind, Keiran.”
“Race with the wind, Abigail.”
Closing his eyes, Keiran focused on shapeshifting. The change came over him like a rippling wave, like a hand rubbing over his body and leaving fur in its wake. He felt his insides change and his skeleton realigning itself, forcing him to drop forward down onto his paws. The moment he hit the ground, he was fully transformed and his legs were already running.
Running through the trees back to the bare hills surrounding the village took a lot less time than it had taken to walk so deep into the forest. His legs ached as he slowed to a halt, pushing his way through the last of the trees to stand on a hill looking out over the plains. The village sat low, surrounded on three sides by hills, with a soft stream running down one side and meandering off. It was beautiful and idyllic, undisturbed by vehicles or the pollution of cities. The only smoke clouding the air was from that of clean, wood-burning fires.
The plains around the village were mostly tamed for farming, though some plots of land were left free and wild for grazing animals. The wolves still kept dogs for herding, considering even the omegas above such a domestic task.
From his vantage point, Keiran saw the other wolves roaming around, going about their lives. Sheep and cattle grazed peacefully, although they now lifted up their heads as a small party of large wolves pulled away from the village and headed for the forest.
A thrill of anxiety shot through Keiran at the sight of them. If they were sent to fetch him, his father’s summons must mean he was in trouble. After observing them for a bit more, he took a deep breath and managed to calm down. They were moving at a fast, purposeful pace with their heads up, not following a scent at all. A hunting party, then.
If I take much longer, Pa really will be mad at me and then I’ll be in trouble after all.
Panting nervously to himself, Keiran set off down the hill at a trot. He stuck to the paths, which smelled of wolves. The scent grew stronger the closer he came to the village, even when he crossed the hard dirt road. Exhaust and other vehicle reeks drowned out all natural scents, but the last time he’d seen a car passing by was last week. Being so far from everything in Dexus, they didn’t get much traffic.
Reaching the first building on the outskirts of the village, Keiran paused and tilted his head back. He opened his mouth, forming an almost perfect circle. A growl started deep in his chest, pulling up his throat and filtering out as a high, thin howl.
Another howl rose up almost as soon as he sent up his call—his father’s response. It was a call of home, which meant his father wanted him back at the house.
Transforming into a human, Keiran pushed up from his crouch and walked through the village. Some of the others greeted him and he dipped his head in response, but most of them ignored him; he put his head down when passing them in return, scurrying on past as was befitting a wolf of his status. The streets were mostly empty anyway, since it was the middle of the day and those who weren’t hard at work were either on their way to work, or just not working that day. Not even the children were idle. Even with his weakened human senses, he could hear them at the schoolhouse.
The only person idle was Keiran. He lowered his head and would have tucked his tail between his legs had he been still in wolf form.
“There you are! At last.”
Keiran turned his head and tried not to look as guilty as he felt, watching his father walk down the side of their house toward him. For the first time, he wondered why his father wasn’t at his workshop. Had something happened?
“I came as fast as I could, Pa.”
“Ha,” his father snorted. “If you say so. Those scrawny little omega legs of yours need to get some more exercise.” Keiran tried to speak, to say that he would, but his father spoke over him. “You’d get stronger if you actually did your job.”
Looking at his father, Keiran had to admit it was true. Metal was heavy stuff, and working with metal all day since he was young had turned his father into even more of a beast than he already was just by being an alpha. He had muscles on his muscles and a chest sculpted enough to wash clothes on. He was also incredibly hairy, which Keiran figured was more a thing of personal preference than anything about job safety. Having that much hair when working with heat and fire would have to be like playing with matches while sitting in a pile of hay.
There was nothing Keiran could say in his defense, so he didn’t even try. His father continued on. “I guess it’s no use arguing with you about that. There’s nothing I can do for you.”
That hurt, but not as much as it used to.
“Have you heard?”
Keiran blinked. Great, now there was something he should have known? “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
His father shook his head. “Where the hell were you if you don’t even know what’s going on?”
He wasn’t about to answer that.
“See anything weird out there on the horizon, boy?”
“Not really,” Keiran muttered. “A bit of dust up the road. It’s windy.”
“Well, this isn’t just some dust on the wind. We had a runner come for a visit while you were doing whatever the hell you were doing. There’s a caravan of important visitors coming up this way.”
Keiran blinked, startled. “Important visitors? What kind of important visitors would come this way?”
His father shrugged. “What the hell do I know about politics? All I know is they like to poke their noses where they don’t belong and make observations about the way we live. That’s why you’re going to spend the rest of the day cleaning up the house with your sisters and then make sure you look your best for tomorrow. These guys might never look in our direction, or we might end up having to play host to them because we have a spare room.”
A spare room. Ma’s room.
“Right. Okay.”
“Good pup.” His father patted him on his shoulder. The force of it almost knocked him off his feet. “Make sure everything is spotless. Keep your sisters in line.”
“I will.”
And then his father was gone, swaggering off in the direction of his workshop to no doubt arrange his tools and whip up a few half-finished weapons to make it look as if he was busier than he really was. After all, the funding for business in the village was decided upon by the government, the decisions of which were influenced by inspectors. If these people coming were inspectors, or could possibly inform any other person of importance that the blacksmith shop in the village of Marvels wasn’t doing so well, their funding could be cut.
It seemed unfair to Keiran that those who weren’t doing so well should be punished for it instead of receiving more help, but that was just life. It was unlikely to change.
“Kiki! You’re home!”
Keiran grabbed onto his sister just in time to keep her from knocking him over, giving her a tight hug. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m home. Dad said I’m supposed to keep you in line.”
His sister Sarah scowled up into his eyes. “More like we’ll keep you in line, Kiki.”
He tipped his head to one side. “Yeah, you’re right.”
There were four children in the Smith family: Keiran and his three sisters, Sarah, Camara, and Ann. Sarah, the youngest at 14, was named for their mother who had died giving birth to her. Ann was the second youngest, at 15, and Camara was 18. Though Keiran was the eldest at 22, he often felt like his sisters were all much older than he due to their maturity. Two of them were training to be merchants, while Sarah was destined to be a daycare assistant.
Sarah grabbed at his hand and tugged him off around the side of the house, blonde ponytail bouncing along behind her like a perky wolf’s tail. “Cam told me to clean up around the house. Sweep and stuff and trim the plants. I figured you’d want to help me.”
Her voice was strangely suggestive when she said the word “plants”. Keiran didn’t like that, although he also wouldn�
�t say out loud that she was right. He would much prefer to work with the landscaping and garden than to do anything inside. It was too nice of a day to waste being cooped up indoors.
“I sure would. What are Cam and Ann doing?”
Sarah made a face as she took him over to their little supply shed. Really, it was the size of a dog house – and not a good one. “I think Ann is cleaning the bathroom, and Cam is doing dishes.”
Oh, yeah. I definitely want to be outside.
Chapter 2
A sound in the darkness awoke him, although he couldn’t identify the source.
Keiran opened his eyes, squinting into the darkness. Although shapeshifters kept some trace amount of their animal form’s abilities when they were humans, his vision still wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the thick shadows. Yawning, he wondered what it mattered and snuggled deeper under the covers to chase away the chill of night. His internal clock told him it was just past midnight, which explained the complete absence of light. No one, not even his father, was awake at this hour. No lanterns in the house were lit, and no lanterns outside the window were lit, either. If there were any night workers up and about, they weren’t passing this way.
Must be cloudy if there isn’t even any moonlight.
He closed his eyes again and pulled the covers up over his head, curling himself into a ball. He was squeaky-clean from a thorough bath earlier in preparation of visitors and somehow the sensation of being cleaned only added to the pleasure of staying in bed.
There was absolutely no sound in the room at all but for his own breathing. Keiran opened his eyes again, bothered for a second time by something he couldn’t quite identify through the fog of sleep. Alone? He shared his father’s bedroom, while his sisters curled up in a room of their own. If his father wasn’t working, he should be in bed.
Wild Ride: An M/M Shifter Mpreg Romance Bundle Page 79
