by Bethany Shaw
“Are we ready?” Devon asked his voice barely audible.
He looked at each of them as they nodded.
With a flick of his wrist, he motioned them on. Silently, Devon led them through the grassy front yard to the back of the property. Hearing footsteps approaching, he gritted his teeth and dashed behind a small building. Devon pressed his back to the wall as his hand gripped the strap to his bag tightly. A radio crackled in the distance as one of Emmett’s men drew closer to them.
Emily panted next to him, mimicking his movements. Her arms shook and her green eyes shone with tears. “Dev,” she mouthed.
Devon held a finger to his lips and placed a hand over her shaking hand. His eyes drifted to the others leaning on the hard metal beside them.
Vincent crouched down; pumping his hands as they slowly transitioned into claws. His golden eyes were alert, and he was ready to spring into action.
Marcus rested a hand on Emily’s arm. He rubbed small circles around her elbow in an effort to soothe her.
The shortwave radio cackled again. Emily flinched and buried her face in her hands. Devon gave her shoulder a small squeeze and dropped his hands to his sides. Eyes alert, fists clenched, he was prepared to attack if needed. The only cover they had was a small shed and the starless night.
The approaching man laughed a few feet from them and jabbered into his walkie-talkie. Devon closed his eyes and let out a long breath. The man’s boot squeaked as he turned on the dewy grass and clomped away.
“We should go back,” Emily whispered. Tears streamed down her face. “If they catch us, they’ll kill you.”
“Shhhh,” Marcus soothed, placing a kiss to her temple as his hands cupped her cheeks. “We know what we’re getting into, come on.” He slid his hand down her arm and grasped her fingers.
Emily nodded, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. Devon gave his friend a reassuring nod before peering around the outbuilding. Seeing the coast was clear, he led the way to the tree line.
He sucked in a gulp of air, letting it out as the thick brush of the trees enveloped them. Now, safely hidden in the dense bush line, he allowed the paralyzing terror to ebb a little.
Devon nodded at his family, and they quickly undressed. They could move quicker on four feet than two. Nudity was nothing new to them. It was a part of the transition process.
Devon picked up his discarded outfit and shoved it in his bag. The sack he carried was a messenger bag; the straps adjusted so he could easily step into it and carry it on his back in wolf form.
He closed his eyes and thought about the animal inside him. At first, transitioning was difficult. Over time, it became easier. He focused his mind until he felt the tug of his inner wolf.
He cringed as each bone snapped, sending tremors of blinding white heat through him as his body reformed into a wolf. Within seconds, they had all completed the transformation. Their yellowed eyes glowed in the moonlight. Marcus’ white and grey coat stood out in the darkness. Emily and Vincent’s reddish brown coats blended in more, and Devon’s jet-black fur made him nearly invisible.
The color of a wolf's coat was based on lineage, not their human characteristics. Even though Devon had the markings of an alpha, he doubted he would ever be one.
The wolves took a brief moment to stretch and acclimate to their new forms. They stepped into their messenger bags, settling them across their bodies, and charged off.
As werewolves, they moved effortlessly through the forest. After years of running together as a group, they ran flawlessly. Jumping over logs and swerving between the trees, the wolves had no trouble blending in with the forest.
Devon relished in the dank scent of mud and wet leaves squishing beneath his paws. The wind whipped against his face, allowing his senses to focus on their surroundings.
Within a matter of minutes, they cleared the vast distance separating them from the highway. In the safety of the trees, they stretched and started changing back into humans.
Devon wiggled his front paws. Slipping his pack off, he closed his eyes focusing on his human form. His body tingled, and he grimaced as the bones realigned; breaking and reforming. The hair on his body bristled and crept away until he crouched bare in the grass. He stood and picked up his pack from the ground.
They dressed in silence. Devon’s stomach twisted with unsettled nerves as he led them to the car. He swiped his hand across his forehead, wiping away the fine sheen of sweat that formed on his brow. Almost there.
“Were we followed?” Emily asked brown strands of hair blew across her face as she looked around nervously. The repugnant smell of fear and adrenaline radiated from her body.
“We’re going to be fine, Em,” Devon said.
Everyone had been asleep when they had snuck out, except for the night watch, and none of them had followed. Devon had been diligent in keeping a keen ear for noise. If someone had spotted them, especially Emily, the alarm would have sounded.
“We should keep moving.” Devon motioned for them to get into the vehicle he’d purchased three days ago.
The beat up black sedan left a lot to be desired, but it ran, and only cost a couple hundred dollars. It would get them from Guymon, Oklahoma to Abilene, Texas. The thought of bringing his own Civic had crossed his mind. Unfortunately, it would have raised questions when he didn’t bring it home from work. Not to mention, the police could easily trace his car anywhere they went. His stepfather, Emmett, though vile, knew how to make friends, or pay them off.
Emily, Vincent, and Marcus were the only reasons he’d stuck around that hellhole. Especially Emily, if it weren’t for her, he would have left long ago. His brother and friend could fend for themselves if they were attacked, but his baby sister was not a fighter.
He had made friends in neighboring packs over the years, and there were several places for them to go. There was only one person Devon wanted to see, the only man he ever trusted, his Uncle Rick.
“Come on, Em,” Marcus said, gently pulling her arm and guiding her into the backseat as he slid in next to her.
Devon climbed in the driver’s seat and Vincent slid in beside him. Starting the car, he eased them onto the freeway and away from Guymon.
“Father will come after us,” Emily said, a haunted look in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to any of you.”
“He won’t hurt us, Em.” That was a promise he intended to keep, no matter what. Emily would have a good future. He would see to that.
Devon was the only child in the family who wasn’t Emmett McKinley’s flesh and blood. Anything and everything he did was a disappointment. Years of being told he didn’t live up to his real father’s name had taken its toll. After an eternity of insults, Devon couldn’t help but believe it. He shook away the thoughts, not wanting to dwell on the past; instead he focused on the open road.
The car hummed, its occupant’s silent as he merged onto the main highway. He hoped his words had soothed his baby sister. Emily was the youngest at twenty-one and being the only female in the family, she led a sheltered life. Her interactions outside the pack were rare—Emmett didn’t allow it. He even went so far as to home school her and limit her to online college courses.
The men of the pack were allowed to come and go at their leisure. Women were kept closer and always protected above all else. For some unknown reason, the female birth rate was on a rapid decline. The few doctors amongst the packs could find no reasons for it. As a paramedic, Devon had looked over the research, but hadn’t found anything new. The lack of females didn’t give Emmett the right to send Emily off to be a breeder for another pack.
Emily was a beautiful, kindhearted woman. Not a thing to be passed around. His baby sister had always been there for him. Now, it was his turn to return the favor.
Devon knew he made the right choice as he watched Emily and Marcus together. His stepfather had no grasp of boundaries and had pledged loyalty to the vulgar Gulf Packs. They still lived in the stone ages and what E
mmett planned to do with Emily revolted him. Granted, packs operated differently than humans, but not enough to excuse these actions.
“Do you think your uncle will take us in?” Vincent asked quietly while playing with one of the vents on the dashboard.
Devon checked the back seat to make sure his sister was indeed asleep, before turning back to his younger brother. To be safe, he bumped the volume on the radio up, not wanting Emily to worry any more than she already did.
“It has been a few years since I last saw Rick, but he always treated me as one of his own, and he offered me a place in his home anytime.”
“Yeah, but this is different, Dev, and you know it,” Vincent said, looking back at their sister before facing him again. “It’s not just you; it’s all of us and we’re leaving without Emmett’s consent-”
“Rick is a good man, Vincent,” Devon interrupted. “When we tell him what Emmett has planned, he will help us. Things operate differently there.”
His uncle had been more of a father figure to him than the man his mother married. His own father died when he was three. While Devon didn’t remember him, people always told him he reminded them of his father.
“I hope you’re right, but that will involve his pack in our problems. This might start a war, Dev.”
Devon growled low in his throat; he’d already realized that. “I know, but I think the war is already brewing. Many things are changing. Emmett wouldn’t be aligning himself with so many packs for any other reason.”
Vincent sighed and looked out the window, his fingertips thrummed against the door handle. “We did the right thing. Father has changed since he started meeting with the Gulf Packs. He’s become more caveman like. I don’t agree with their ways, and I’m not going to let him trade our sister off to some other pack to form an alliance. This is the twenty-first century! And Marcus and Em, they deserve to be together.”
Vincent was right of course. They lived in too modern of a world to accept such inhumane orders. How the Gulf Packs hadn’t been overthrown was beyond him. It spoke volumes to how they were led that it was even possible for them to pull such antics. While Devon understood pack hierarchy, he would like to think the alphas should have some respect for the wolves they oversaw. Apparently not.
Regardless, he believed in his sister’s rights. The werewolf world had been rapidly deteriorating over the past few years. There was more brutality and unrest. Each alpha was doing more to prove they were superior. Devon suspected his pack was among the worst. Emmett had placed stricter sanctions on all the pack members, and tighter security details. Emmett had begun screening all phone calls, mail, and Internet activity on the homestead. Something big was happening.
“You know, Dev, there are wolves back home that would follow you,” Vincent said quietly. “Those who believe you to be our true alpha, especially with everything-”
“Don’t,” Devon said, cutting him off. While his brother was right—he did have alpha blood in him—he was no alpha. “The pack belongs to Emmett now, and he has been grooming Daniel since he could walk.” Daniel was his younger half-brother and Emmett’s oldest son.
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean he has the best interest of the pack at heart.”
“I said, don’t.” Devon ground his teeth and glared at his younger brother. “I don’t want to discuss this with you anymore.” Vincent shrank back into his seat and hung his head.
Devon’s hand went to his chest where the scars were hidden by his shirt. There was so much stuff his brother didn’t know. Things Devon didn’t even want to think about. Determined not to go there, he changed the subject.
“How are you going to break the news to Becky you aren’t in Guymon anymore?”
Vincent sighed as his head fell back against the headrest. “Becky and I broke up on Monday, Dev. It’s Jessica now.”
Devon chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing as they passed into the next county.
***
They didn’t reach the ranch until mid-afternoon. With the air conditioner not working, the heat in the car was suffocating. All four windows were down but did little to alleviate the heat. After a long day in the sweltering car, they were all eager to get out.
As they exited the car, his Uncle Rick and his two cousins, Gene and Preston greeted them. Now came the hard part, getting them to help. An act against another alpha might be considered a sign of aggression, depending on the alpha. What he was asking of his uncle would put everyone here at risk.
Devon’s heart thundered violently against his ribcage. Refusing to let his fear show, he squared his shoulders. Devon could not look weak. They needed Rick’s help.
“Devon?” Rick asked as he walked toward them, a smile spreading across his face. Rick reached toward Devon and pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back. He’d spent every summer on the ranch until he turned eighteen, and even then, he had visited occasionally. This was home. “It’s good to see you again, Son.”
“Can we go inside and talk?” Devon skipped straight to the point. If his uncle couldn’t help them, he and his family would need to distance themselves so Rick’s pack wouldn’t be implicated by their actions. Should any harm come against Rick or his pack, because of them, he would never forgive himself.
“Sure, Dev, come on in,” Rick said. He motioned for all of them to follow him inside the large mansion.
Sweat beaded on Devon’s brow and his mouth went dry; the apprehension churned in his stomach. Devon waited until they were seated with drinks before clearing his parched throat.
“I respect you, Uncle Rick, you have been like a father to me, and I would never ask anything of you if it wasn’t important,” he paused. Devon hated to ask for help, or involve others in a fight that wasn’t their own. Concern of being turned away flared inside him and he rubbed his hands on his pant legs.
Rick gave him a slight nod and Devon continued, “Over the past few years Emmett has made some questionable choices. He has asked us to make aggressive moves against our neighboring packs that we have long since been allies with. He has severed ties with all of our old friends. Most recently though, he formed an alliance with some of the Gulf Packs, and though Emily and Marcus have made intentions to marry.” Devon stopped and looked at Emily. “Emmett promised Emily to one of the other pack’s to mate with the alpha’s older sons. The rules and the way Emmett has begun to treat members of his own pack, and our allies, are unacceptable. We can no longer live under his tyranny.”
Devon leaned back into the couch relieved to have gotten that off his chest. His uncle’s expression remained unreadable. Devon sipped nervously at his soda, waiting for Rick to say something.
He swallowed the nervous lump building in his throat. One hand fisted in his lap, the other gripped the soda can tightly.
If it were only him, he wouldn’t care, but his siblings needed the extra protection.
For a wolf, living in isolation would be one of the cruelest punishments to their kind. They craved companionship. Wolves were pack animals and that also extended to werewolves. There was an inherent need to protect their families and loved ones.
“I knew things had deteriorated, but I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad,” Rick said after a long pause. He rubbed his graying beard as his brown eyes met Devon’s. “Over the past few years, there has been unrest amongst some of the packs. Allegiances are being formed. Some packs are resorting to the old ways in response. It would appear Emmett is going that route as well. I do not wish a war. We live in harmony with our human neighbors, and I fear many lives could be lost.”
Rick sighed, taking a long sip of his coffee. “However, you’re my brother’s only son, and I value family and the values of modern society. I could never sit around knowingly letting others suffer. It would only be a matter of time before we joined the fray anyway. You four are welcome here, but I do have a few small conditions. We can discuss those once you have settled. It will be nice to have someone with medical experience again. We ha
ve been without a physician since my good friend, Edward Davies passed.”
“I’m only a paramedic, but I will do what I can,” Devon said, relief washing over him. Being part of a pack and the added safety helped settle the unease that had filled him. “We will gladly pledge our allegiances to you and follow any rules you set.”
***
Lark finished lining the takeout box with cookies, donuts, and muffins. The morning rush had been extra brutal today. Thank goodness she always baked a little extra. It had been a long and grueling afternoon too. The day wouldn’t be over until she’d picked up her sister and delivered the little bit of leftovers to the Harris Ranch. Thankfully it would be one stop. Her sister was dating the youngest Harris boy and spent most evenings at their home.
After Lark and Sarah’s parents died in a tragic accident on New Year’s Eve three years ago, it had been up to Lark to take on the parental role of her younger sister, Sarah. It had always been her dream to own a bakery, and with the assistance of Rick Harris and her inheritance, it had become a reality. The Cookie Jar was her bakery.
Lark used the glass case as a makeshift mirror, tucking her unruly blonde locks back into a ponytail. Satisfied, she grabbed the three boxes of leftovers and walked to her car.
The ten-minute drive to the Harris ranch was short and peaceful. Listening to Lana Del Rey and enjoying the quiet night air made it the most relaxing ten minutes of the entire day.
Owning her business had its rewards and downfalls. She’d gone over this quarter’s profits last night with Rick, and felt comfortable enough to hire a few extra workers. Hopefully her days would be calmer soon.
She turned down the large gravel driveway with a sigh, perhaps one day she would be able to own an estate like this. It truly was spectacular. Acres of trees lined the property, and a large pond sat behind the main house. Horses roamed in the pasture to her right. She smiled as she saw one of her favorite mares. It had been a long time since she’d been out riding. There wouldn’t be time for that tonight.
