Legacy Awakened

by Tamar Sloan

  Whoa. This wolf is something.

  Zephyr spends long seconds thinking on it, and I wouldn’t expect any less of him. I hold my breath as I wait. Confirmation of what my nose has told me would be nice.

  With a last glance between the two of us, and if that wasn’t a ‘keep your paws to yourself’ look, I’d eat my tail, he steps back.

  Double whoa! Zephyr just gave us the okay to visit his mate!

  We walk forward in the same way you’d enter a church. Soft footed, silent, and reverent.

  Sakari is curled in her little depression in the earth. In the cradle formed by her body are three little lives.

  I look to golden wolf, as if needing to check that I’m not the only one seeing this. But the wonder and awe I can feel blooming through me are dawning across her face. Yep, this is definitely real.

  The last one, born not long ago, is still wet, white fur pasted to his body as Sakari licks him. They all curl into their mother, eyes tightly shut, wanting to burrow into the one who’ll be their world for the next month or so. One mewls, and Sakari pauses to nudge it with her nose, and I see it’s a female. Excitement buzzes through my veins. Rounder, softer miniatures, these guys hold so much future in their little bodies.

  Golden wolf leans into me, her warm body pressing against me. I hold my breath as a new sensation rushes through me. Like two puzzle pieces slotting together, I tilt my head down and rest it on hers. I curl around her with the same protectiveness that Sakari has for her pups.

  We stand there for countless minutes, watching those little lives become part of this world, bodies pressed together. I can’t tell her how monumental this is, but I get to share it with her, and that’s more than enough. Together we’ll see them open their eyes to a world full of hope, grow into the folds of their snowy fur, and eventually create packs of their own.

  We both know when it’s time to leave. Zephyr walks over, the proud papa wanting to see his progeny. Knowing he’s already given us a great gift, we retreat. Remembering the camera, I steer us in the opposite direction. It takes a little while for the satellite signal to pick up. Hopefully I’ve managed to avoid detection.

  As we head away from the base of the mountain, I revel in the happy energy pumping through my body. I wonder…

  Glancing at golden wolf, I go very still. She watches me, eyes narrowing and head tilting. Holding as still as I can, I coil tension through my muscles. She’ll never see it coming.

  When I spring, I can practically see it playing out before it happens. I’ll be too fast, she’ll be too surprised, I’ll tag her, touch that golden fleece of hers with my nose, before darting away.

  I leap, and she holds still. I sail over the distance between us, and she holds still. The outcome seems so certain.

  Except it seems she sees me coming as though I’d been a mile away. At the last moment, as I’m supposed to land right beside her, she feints left. I backpedal midair, not wanting to crush her, except she’s already gone by the time I land. Rather than gracefully landing on my paws, my pride gets left in the tundra soil as I trip and topple.

  I stand, not sure what just happened there. Looking around, golden wolf is a few feet away, once again holding still. But this time there’s a great, big smile on her face. It would be adorable and alluring if I hadn’t just looked like a five-footed fool.

  Who am I kidding? The sight is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

  Nevertheless, there’s the small matter of a score to settle. I lower my head, my own grin almost a reflex, and power forward.

  Not bothering to wait this time, she turns and runs. I throw out a bark, a playful, canine you-can-run-but-you-can’t-hide and shoot after her.

  Running, chasing, wanting to be captured, we spend the black hours discovering that more than three cubs were born tonight.

  Hunter

  24 MONTHS BEFORE

  As I come in with our usual takeaway coffees KJ isn’t where he usually is. Instead of sitting at his desk, he’s standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips.

  “You’re not meant to shift.”

  Crap. The security camera.

  My heart stutters for a second. “What did you see?”

  Would golden wolf be captured on camera? Do I want her to be? I’d have confirmation that I haven’t dreamed her up…but for some reason, I’m not ready to share. Golden wolf has me feeling things I didn’t know were possible.

  KJ huffs. “Not much, the signal took a while to connect. And you were smart enough to stay out of range most of the time.” He throws me a wry glance. “But enough to see your massive white butt.”

  Despite the scowl, I grin. “Jealousy suits you.”

  KJ looks around for something to throw, his grin is obviously unwanted, but there nonetheless. “No way I’d want a butt that white. You’re lucky you live in the snow or NASA would think it’s another moon.” He snatches the pillow and whacks me.

  “Hey.” I curl around the two coffees I’m still holding. “This stuff is my lifeline.”

  KJ rolls his eyes. “True. Without it, you’re just a cranky toddler whose blanket is in the washer.”

  “Hey, I only need it on days ending with a ‘y’.”

  KJ grabs one of the cups and takes a seat. He has a sip before speaking again. “I thought you promised your family you wouldn’t shift.”

  I look away, not happy the conversation ended back here. “They needed to hear that.” I stare KJ in the eye. “You know I can’t get close to them unless I’m wolf.”

  KJ sighs, knowing I’m speaking the truth. “It’s risky, Hunter.”

  “It’s also not optional.”

  Another sigh and KJ turns back to the screen. “At least the camera means you don’t have to be there every night now.”

  Even though I will be, but I don’t say that out loud. No point having to convince him I’m right all over again. A security camera may tell us what’s going on, but there’s no-one there if anything goes wrong. Not to mention the fact it’s not as lonely as it used to be…

  I pull in a breath. This news is almost as good as the news I brought yesterday. “They were born last night.”

  KJ’s grin grows to impossible proportions. “I saw. Had to zoom in a bit, but there’s three of them.”

  Right. So no surprise there then. “At least one is a female.”

  That does the job. KJ lifts his coffee cup and I meet him midair. We toast the future these little fur babies are going to mean.

  “You should see them, KJ.” I shake my head in wonder. “They look like overgrown balls of cotton.”

  “Give me two secs and I will.”

  KJ wiggles the mouse and the center screen comes to life. KJ starts clicking then leans forward. So far, the screen looks like what humans would see out on the tundra at night. Blank blackness.

  “Did you make sure there was good reception?”

  I roll my eyes. “There weren’t any trees around.”

  “Did you connect the solar panel like I showed you?”

  Now I’m frowning. KJ has never asked these questions before. “Yes.” I look from the blank screen to him. “Why?”

  Click. Click. Click. “I’m not getting a signal.”

  “Is it the internet connection or something?”

  Click. Click. “Nope.” Click. “It was working fine about midnight last night.”

  I peer at the screen, like coming in closer will reveal an image we can’t see. But it remains blank. “What’s it mean?” I ask, even though I already know. This has happened once before.

  “Something’s up with the camera.”

  Man, I hope it’s not broken again.

  I take a big gulp of the coffee, and even though it burns, I know I’m going to need it. I’ve already got KJ’s door open before the keys are out of my pocket. I’m at the entryway before KJ has leaped to his feet to stand in his doorway.

  “Wait, I’ll come with you.”

  But I’m already out the door, not bother
ing with the jacket I don’t even need. “The Ski-Doo is quicker without your Were ass on it.”

  I drive there faster than usual, hating the it-all-seemed-too-good-to-be-true feeling that has lodged in my gut. I don’t like to think I’ve become that much of a pessimist, no matter how much crap life has thrown at me. But it’s like a weed, and once it’s grown roots, it doesn’t go away.

  Parking closer than I usually I do, I kick myself when I can’t see any wolves where they should be. Even if I did spook them though, I doubt Zephyr would’ve left his post. Frowning, I figure it might be a good thing. It means I can get close to the camera seeing as I haven’t brought a slab of meat for distraction.

  I quickly find the camera has been knocked off even though the stake is still in the ground. Great. The wolves must’ve been playing or arguing nearby. I lift it up to find it’s smashed. My hand tightens around it, frustration tangling my muscles. We don’t have time to save up for another one. Keeping an eye on these pups is our highest priority right now, so much rests on their furry little shoulders.

  As I look up, I realize I’m close to the den, but Zephyr isn’t giving me the evil eye. That’s unusual in itself. What’s more unsettling is the fact I still can’t see any of them. They should’ve come back by now, their need to protect their Alpha mate and her pups a powerful drive. Even for the arctic tundra, it’s too quiet. Too still.

  Shifting to wolf form isn’t a choice.

  As I approach the rocky area, heart thundering for me to move faster, I see what I felt. The wolves are gone. But why would they move so soon? I stop to scan around me, fear holding me still. Did the poachers find them?

  The thought has me powering forward, caution no longer a priority.

  But the den isn’t empty.

  I shift, falling to my knees, the need to scream trapped in my chest. Three small bodies, motionless except for the wind buffeting their fur, lie tucked in together, forming a perfect circle. I touch them, already knowing they’re gone, but needing the confirmation. Their bodies, so small and chalk white, are hard and cold. They may not have been dead for long or they could have died not long after we left them, it’s hard to tell with our frigid nights.

  Not that it matters. The loss of these three lives is going to be like a sonic boom, the pain amplified over and over as the ramifications expand and escalate. These wolves won’t mate again for another year. A year they may not have.

  My whole body collapses in on itself, hope crippled and crushed. What do we do now?

  Burying the three cubs, not even old enough to be named, is hard, slow work with nothing but the stake from the security camera. I welcome the blisters, the broken nails, the grazes and cuts and blood; they’re a physical testament to how damaged my heart feels.

  I’m not sure how long it takes, but it’s almost dark by the time I’m finished. In a couple of months, snow will cover this area. This grave will be impossible to find. It will be like they were never part of this world.

  Like the promise of hope never existed.

  I feel like I’ve let Dad down…my whole family. I know I’ve let the wolves down.

  I know what I have to do. The choice that has to be made. As I drive back home, the decision cements in my mind.

  I call Dawn from the steps of my house, wanting the bad news I have to tell my family to come in one sucker punch. The loss of the pups and the need for a captive breeding program aren’t words I’m looking forward to delivering.

  Dawn answers on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Ah, Dawn. It’s Hunter. Hunter Rendell.”

  “Hello, Hunter.” Her papery voice is giving nothing away. “This is a surprise.”

  “I’ve rung about the captive breeding program you’ve been emailing us about.”

  “Oh yes. Do you have any questions? I’ve tried to be as thorough as I could with our stats and what would be involved.”

  “They were very detailed.” I swallow. “Thank you.”

  “Well, we keep a very close eye on our wolves.”

  I grit my teeth, she isn’t making this any easier.

  “Excuse me for a moment, Hunter.”

  Dawn’s voice, now muted and further away, carries through my phone. “Yes, I think Achak suits him well. He’s a wild one, that’s for sure.”

  “Apologies. We had a litter born last week and you know how important naming them can be.”

  I close my eyes, unsuccessfully breathing through the pain. It feels like I’ve been cut loose and I’m drowning in it.

  Opening them, I stare straight ahead, speaking through a jaw that feels wired together. “Your captive breeding program. We’d like to begin a similar program here on Evelyn Island.”

  “Really?” The pleasure in her voice just rubs salt into the wound. “That’s wonderful.”

  “We can’t afford to lose them.”

  “Then you’ve made the right decision, young man. This is their best chance at survival.”

  We talk some logistics and dates, but I hang up as soon I as I can. My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing caustic soda. My pride is shattered along with my dreams.

  Sitting down on the front step, I stare at the ground. Right now, this all feels like too much to carry, but sharing the pain isn’t an option either—I’m the Alpha. Which basically leaves me in some sort of hellish limbo.

  Alone.

  A memory from last night blazes in my mind. There are moments I haven’t been alone…

  I didn’t see her today. My guess is night is our time together. I’m tired, bordering on exhaustion. The type that even a coffee IV drip isn’t going to fix. But I know I’ll go out tonight, praying that I see her.

  My golden wolf is the last thread I have, the one I cling to, that maybe the world isn’t as dark as the nights I spend my life in.

  I don’t want to know what a world would look like where that was taken away from me.

  Ava

  Waking up, I’m disorientated by the silence. There are no blue jays, larks or swallows announcing the morning like they made it happen themselves, there’s no movement within the house. Then I remember where I am.

  Stretching, I do a catalog of where things are at.

  Frostbite? Pneumonia? Not yet, but then again, it’s summer here. Nor have I been outside a lot.

  Last night was a quiet dinner of mushroom risotto. Judging by the looks Riley had shot her bowl, it wasn’t a meal they usually have. I made sure I was appreciative of the lengths Lauren had gone to for me.

  Met the Alpha—the elusive Hunter? Nope.

  Lauren had stopped apologizing by the time the afternoon came around. I’m pretty sure I heard Riley call him a few choice names under her breath. KJ had looked like he thought it was all quite humorous. He’d pointed out that once the sun had gone down we weren’t likely to see Hunter till morning.

  Warm, buzzing sense of anticipation still heating my stomach? Yep, alive and well.

  That’s the feeling that has me springing out of bed and dressing in a hurry. Jeans and a jumper are my staples. The cream colored knitted scarf Mom made me pack sits on the top of my suitcase, but I decide there’s no point looking like too much of a freak…surely it doesn’t get that cold here.

  In the kitchen, Riley is already at the table eating a bowl of cereal. She jumps up when I enter. “Good morning. What would you like for breakfast? Toast? I’m happy to cook up some eggs?”

  “Ah.” This treatment is starting to get a bit much. I grab the cereal box sitting before her, reading the brightly colored label. Mocha Munch. Looks like something the twins unsuccessfully try to get Aunt Tara to buy them. “This looks great. Point the way and I’ll grab myself a bowl.”

  Riley heads to cupboards and passes me one. “I could grab you some juice?”

  “Riley, I’m not sure what people have said about me, but I’d be far more comfortable if you’d sit down and point me to the spoons.”

  Riley’s brow arches over her amber eyes. “Top drawer next to the s
ink.”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  Riley takes her place as I grab a spoon. I can feel her watching me. “Mom said you’re practically Were royalty.”

  I have to work not to laugh. I’ve already figured out Riley is a proud young lady. “As in, like a princess or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  Filling my bowl with the balls of sugar, I wink at her. “Do princesses eat Mocha Munch?”

  Riley’s smile is big and fast. She grabs a spoonful and brings it to her mouth. “If she knows what’s good for her.”

  The laugh escapes, and I have to work on not spitting cocoa-colored milk everywhere. Riley bursts into her own giggles, which just fuel my own. In seconds we’re both working on not spluttering cereal all over the table.

  Which is just when Josh walks in. Riley instantly curbs her giggles and I use the opportunity to sit back. I’m thinking watching these two is about to become my entertainment in this house.

  Josh pauses at the door. “Morning.”

  I smile brightly at him. “Morning. Mocha Munch?”

  Josh eyes the neon box I hold up. Right now, he’d be cataloging the amount of sugar per serving and which preservatives could be considered carcinogenic in this breakfast delight. He glances at Riley, who seems to have been put on pause.

  My smile grows. “Look, all-natural colors.”

  There’s a possibility I hear his teeth grind, but Josh still manages a nod. Good to see manners won out for a change.

  I grab a bowl and spoon and pass it over. “Luna would kill to have these at your house.”

  Josh huffs. “She’d use them as ammo against Layla.”

  Actually, that’s true. “Breanna would clean them up.”

  Josh rolls his eyes. “Right off the floor, too.”

  “Ah, how many siblings do you have?” The question is from Riley, and I quickly shift my seat back and head to the sink. I feel like a chess player right now, strategizing as I set up my pieces.

  “Four younger sisters.” There’s a clink of a spoon in a bowl. “Two sets of twins, in fact.”