Ellie still begs me to let her come and live with us every time we speak, and sometimes it's hard for me to say no. Despite everything I went through to get here, I'm more happy and content with Thorne and our new pack than I've ever been in my life.
The old fairytales always called being a werewolf a curse, and for some people that can be true. Wolves who don't learn to cope with their instincts end up like the Mine Pack, or Cyan, but those of us who manage to control our feral side have a chance at the simple life that so many people crave, living with the contentment of our animal existence alongside the safety and security brought by our human judgement. Is it really my place to decide whether that kind of life is right or wrong for Ellie?
In the end, Thorne and I sat down with my sister to have a serious talk about instincts, werewolves, and her life back home. We agreed that when she's older, when she understands exactly what she's asking of us and what it means for her, she can make her decision, and we'll support it. There was a lot of grumbling on her end, but she agreed eventually.
Somehow, I feel like once she discovers boys and heads off to college she won't be quite so enthusiastic about the idea of running around in the woods as a werewolf.
Fortunately I don't have to make her choose between me and her home life any more. We go to visit as often as we can, even though it means being away from the pack for a few days, to make sure she's doing alright and to check in on my mother.
Thorne has been working on clearing an old road we discovered nearby that the lumber camps must have used to transport goods back and forth from the city. Rowan wasn't too happy about it when he heard, but we've agreed to be careful and not open up the road all the way back to human civilisation. It'll be a handy way of moving back and forth once it's done. All we need to do now is figure out how to get a car into the woods, and our trips to and from the city should only take a few hours rather than several days.
People pass between the Wood Pack and our own little group pretty regularly now. We're still two separate werewolf clans, but there are bonds of friendship and loyalty between us that aren't ever going to go away.
Thorne never settled on a name for us, but the others call us the Wild Pack more often than not. Him and Rowan meet up every fortnight to talk business, discuss the safety of our people, hunting plans, patrol routes, scouting parties; everything that two leaders need to discuss. For a long time it was very formal. Despite what Thorne did by standing up to Cyan, the pair of them still had a lot of uncomfortable history that didn't just disappear overnight. The meetings were quick and professional at first, but recently I've begun to hear laughter coming from Thorne's cabin when the two of them are locked in there together. Rowan doesn't leave till late, and when he does it's often with a smile on his face.
They never hint at it in public, but I like to think the pair of them have managed to rekindle at least some of the friendship they shared in the past.
Finally, there's Cyan.
Of all the changes we experienced after that night, I still don't know how to feel about what happened to my old alpha. True to her word, Agatha tried her best to help him cope with his instinct while he recovered from his wounds, locked up in the surviving orchard building to make sure he didn't cause any more trouble. She didn't talk much about about what he shared with her in their conversations, only that he'd spent longer than any of us fighting a losing battle against an instinct he'd never learned to control.
I was angry at him for a long time. Some days I wanted to go to Rowan and ask him to drive Cyan out like he'd done with Thorne. Other times I felt like visiting him myself and hearing what he had to say.
I never did, though.
In the months he was with the Wood Pack I only ever saw him a handful of times, going about his business quickly and quietly in the background after they stopped keeping him under lock and key. Agatha thinks she managed to get through to him in some way, but I don't know if anything can ever "fix" Cyan after what he did.
He was never going to fit in as part of the Wood Pack for long, even with Agatha's counsel. It wasn't just the hostility he faced from within the pack, but his own nature as well. He was always an alpha, and his instinct to dominate wasn't something he could satisfy from the bottom of a pack hierarchy.
The closest we came to speaking was on the afternoon of the day before he left. We were visiting the Wood Pack for a joint springtime celebration, and my old alpha approached me while I was alone. I don't know if he mistook my look of surprise for fear, but the second our eyes met he turned away, and for a second I felt genuine empathy towards him when I saw the look of hurt and confusion on his face.
That was the last time I saw him. The others say he packed a few belongings and set out on his own the next morning, heading deeper into the woods without a word of goodbye.
I still wonder about him and what he's doing now. It's impossible not to. Perhaps he's starting over, putting together a new pack to try it all again. Maybe he set out on his own as a lone wolf, dealing with his instinct without getting anyone else involved this time.
Thorne was worried that he might join up with the remnants of the Mine Pack and come after us again, but I doubt that. I don't know what changed in him, but his wolf lost everything on that night in the orchard, and the Cyan I saw in the days that followed wasn't the same person who'd kidnapped my sister and challenged Thorne.
Maybe he changed for the better, maybe he didn't, but I've lived in his shadow too long to carry on worrying about where he is and what he might be doing out there. My instinct tells me I won't see him again, and that's good enough for me.
There's only one alpha I need to worry about now, and he shares my bed every night. When I hear him growl, I never have to be afraid of his aggression. When I feel his hands pressing me down, I don't feel trapped. He can touch the most primal parts of me that most people, werewolf or human, are afraid to ever acknowledge, and when he does we share something deeper than just intimacy. It was our instincts that brought Thorne and I together all those months ago, the very things we'd spent most of our lives as werewolves fighting against.
Whenever I struggle with it, whenever I find myself wishing I was just a normal girl again, I remember that.
The End
# # #
Lyssa and Thorne's story is over, but the forest packs still have more tales left to tell.
A familiar face returns in Broken Moon a new five-part paranormal romance serial by Claudia King, available now in full, with the first part downloadable for free!
Safety, security, and the promise of a doting mate. Everything a young female could wish for amongst the isolated Highland Pack -- and all things April has no choice in.
Part of her longs for more. For a relationship of passion rather than necessity, a life of discovery rather than obedience, and a future as something more than just a mother to the next generation of werewolves born to her pack.
But the Highland wolves are strict in their rules, resistant to outside influences and viciously protective of their way of life.
When tragedy tears April's world apart, her only hope for salvation lies with a lone wolf from outside the pack; an exiled alpha with a dark past.
Is the Highland Pack's strict way of life the price she must pay for a safe future? Or is there something more for her waiting in the arms of the outsider, even when it sets a chain of events in motion that threaten to drive a dangerous divide between the wolves of the Highland Pack?
Excerpt:
The taste of rain in his mouth and the chill of icy sleet running down the back of his neck didn't bother him. He was used to it. Even with his hunting jacket soaked through and his dark hair hanging in wet locks before his eyes he carried on, pressing up the mountain slope to where the weather was harsher, the wind colder.
They were stalking him, he could tell. Half a dozen times he'd tried to climb the mountain to find their pack, and now, at last, they had been the ones to find him.
He smiled to himself,
exhausted, and forced his thickly muscled body onwards up the steep slope, the forest thinning and giving way to scattered pine trees, the grass becoming patchy beneath his boots where snow blown down from the chilly heights had smothered it.
In the back of his mind his wolf whispered to him, like a wild animal dogging his every step, trying to latch on and sink in its teeth the second he faltered.
You need me. You need my strength. They'll come for you soon.
He grit his teeth and pushed his wolf to the back of his mind. The thoughts were his own, but they weren't born of the human part of him. He knew the steep slope would be made easier by his wolf's powerful legs, the cold more tolerable by a thick coat of fur, but he refused.
They were close now. Even without the sharp senses of his wolf he could hear their paws disturbing the rocks and smell their pack-scent on the wind. No doubt they were waiting for him to turn back, as he had always done before, but not this time.
He forced his aching legs to keep moving forward. Years of rough living had chiselled him into a rugged, weather-hardened creature, and he could endure far beyond the point at which most others would give up. He pushed on, forcing his endurance to the limit in a silent challenge to his pursuers. Would the harsh weather get to them first, or to him?
As long as they were out there, he wouldn't stop. He'd force them to make the first move.
His boots slipped on a heap of loose shale, and he dropped to one knee, cursing through his teeth as pain shot up his leg. He curled his fingers into the grass, struggling to drag himself back to his feet, and then he saw them.
They slunk out from behind the trees and rocks all at the same time, far nearer than he'd expected.
He was a large wolf, an alpha among his kind, but every one of these creatures matched him in size. Half a dozen pairs of animal eyes glistened through the rain, watching him with human intelligence. They were werewolves, like him, and he was trespassing in their territory.
He huffed a breathless sigh and sat down on the slope, closing his eyes for a moment as he fought the maddening urge of his wolf prickling at the back of his mind.
Fight them. You need me. Fight them.
A pair of boots crunched on the shale as the lead wolf took his human form, standing just a few feet away.
"This is the third time we've seen you in our territory. What are you doing here?"
He smiled, wiping the wet strands of hair away from his face as he looked up at the leader, blinking through the rain. "Looking for you. I'm getting close to your pack, aren't I? Otherwise you'd never have shown your faces. And this is the fifth time I've been up here."
"Why?" The leader narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward and bending down on one knee to meet the eyes of the other wolf. His hair was cropped short, his gloves and trench coat lending him an almost military air.
"Because you're the only pack I haven't found yet. You're the Highland Pack, aren't you? Hiding up in the mountains, hidden away from everyone."
The leader ignored his question. "You're a loner?"
He nodded.
"How long?"
"Two years, give or take."
"What happened to your last pack? Did they drive you out?"
He glared at the leader, and for a moment he almost gave in to the furious urges of his wolf. "I left. There was no place for me there."
"The Highland Pack doesn't take in strays."
"I never asked you to take me in."
The leader stared at him for a long moment before responding. "Two years is a long time to be out there on your own. I'm surprised you didn't go feral."
"Don't tempt me."
One of the other wolves growled, baring his fangs as he inched forward until the leader held up a hand to halt him. He regarded the stranger in silence once more, then offered him his hand.
"Our elders will want to talk with you, then we'll decide what to do. What's your name?"
He managed to stifle his sigh of relief as he took the leader's hand, rising to his feet with a groan.
"Cyan."
# # #
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Claudia King is a writer based in the United Kingdom, she studied Creative Arts at university and continues to maintain a passionate interest in storytelling (both erotic and non-erotic!) across many forms of media. She owns a banana plant.
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Wild Instincts - Complete Edition (Werewolf Erotic Romance) Page 28
