Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 3

by R. J. Blain

  I adjusted my stance, shoving my shoulders in my attempt to dislodge my human and force her back into the safety of the den, my gaze never leaving the encroaching pack and their humans. The effort of growling for so long tired me, and I quieted, watching and waiting to see if they would force me to fight them.

  “Did he do anything else? Anything weird?”

  “He licked me!” my human wailed.

  The human snorted, and after a moment, I recognized the following sounds he made as laughter. “I’m sorry. I have to ask, Nicolina. I’m trying to get a feel for what he’s trying to do.”

  “He dug holes and hunted. He tried to give a rabbit to me. It was gross, even worse than the damned rattlesnake,” my human complained, and she flicked my nose in rebuke. I whined, lowering my head as I tried to understand why she was angry with me. “When I didn’t eat the damned thing, he took it away. That’s when he started licking and chewing on my hair.”

  “Well, if he’s trying to court you, he’s not going about it the normal way,” the male replied, once again laughing. “Okay, if I had to make a guess, he probably views you as a puppy or very young adult. Has he let you leave the den?”

  My human pulled on my neck, and I lowered my head for her. While her paws were small and lacked claws, they were deft and she worked them into my fur. “I haven’t tried; he seemed agitated enough without me adding to it.”

  “Good girl,” the human replied. “Has he shown any signs of aggression?”

  My human’s scent soured with her distress. “Only the once.”

  I didn’t like the way my human shook against me, and her fear surged. Tensing, I bared my fangs at the humans and the wolves with them.

  “At the cabin,” the male said, his tone soft.

  “At the cabin,” she agreed, her voice cracking. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

  Shock and dismay polluted the scents of the wolves and humans. The two humans stared at each other.

  The one with the box replied, “We don’t murder victims unless we have no choice. If he submits, if he lets you go without injuring you, his circumstances will be considered.”

  “You’ll consider his circumstances?” my human shrieked, her anger strengthening to full-fledged fury. “You’ll consider them?”

  The white and red wolf growled in warning and rebuke.

  My human’s ire flared, and she snarled, “If he wasn’t going to do it, I was.”

  “Nicolina, you’re not helping,” the second male said.

  “Fuck off, Frank.”

  The human she named Frank lifted his hands. “I don’t like this any more than you do. Our first concern is to get you away from him so you’re not hurt.”

  “I can start spelling words out if you need me to,” my human retorted. “Let’s start with two easy ones. F-U-C-K O-F-F spells fuck off. Do you think I’m stupid? I know what that is.” She pointed at the box. “Get rid of it. You’re not treating him like some criminal or rabid animal.”

  “I was not expecting the girl to be more trouble than the wolf,” Frank admitted, turning to the two wolves flanking him, focusing on the white one with the red frosted fur and black paws. “Actually, I wasn’t expecting to see you alive at all, Nicolina. You have no idea how lucky you are.”

  My human snorted, and with gentle tugs of her furless paws, she forced my head down until she held me against her stomach. “I’m aware. Dad told me what to expect.”

  Frank sighed. “Look, Nicolina. He’s mad. There’s nothing we can do to change that. You lived, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I can smell it on him. He’s wild, and unless we can draw him into a pack and make him submit or fight for dominance with us, he’s nothing more than an animal—a very intelligent, extremely dangerous animal. Even if we do, he might never recover.”

  “Because of what his parents did. That severing.”

  A shiver ran through me, and I whined. I knew the word, I knew what my human was saying, and I didn’t want to remember. I tried to retreat into the den, but her grip tightened on me.

  “Richard, down,” she snarled at me, snapping her teeth at my nose.

  I dropped to my belly and flattened my head to the ground, whining.

  “Damn,” Frank gasped.

  “That’s submissive behavior,” the first human murmured, his tone and scent puzzled. “Isn’t he an Alpha?”

  “Nicolina, how long has he been acting like that?” Frank demanded.

  My human made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know? Ever since the crash, I guess. He did exactly what his parents told him to do. He hardly fought them at all. He was scared, Frank. He was scared right until… until he snapped.”

  Frank crouched beside the white and red wolf. “Okay, Nicolina. Easy, girl. Take some deep breaths and tell us what happened. Take it from the top.”

  “I was driving and they were tailgating. Richard suggested I pull over when we had a chance and he’d take over and deal with them, but they rammed the Porsche when we were in a valley. It flipped. Richard… I think Richard broke his neck during the crash. I wasn’t driving fast, I swear it. I was at least ten below the limit. They just hit us and kept doing it until the car rolled.” My human swallowed, and the scent of her distress intensified. I whined in response, worming towards her in my effort to come between her and the humans. “Richard, quiet,” she snapped.

  I obeyed, shivering.

  “He’s reacting to your stress,” Frank explained. “Deep breaths and stay calm. It’s instinct. He smells you’re upset. If he’s submissive, he wants to fix it.”

  My human snorted, and she rested her hand on the top of my head. I rolled, tucked my tail, and exposed my throat to her.

  “So the exact opposite of what he normally does?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “But why is he acting like this? I don’t understand.”

  “Frank, who is the most submissive wolf here?” the first human asked. “There’s an easy way to test if he’s submissive.”

  Still crouched, Frank turned to one of the wolves behind him, making a gesture with his furless paw. “We don’t rank our submissive wolves, Damien. Richard doesn’t allow it. He always says it stressed them too much for absolutely no reason. No tests. I wouldn’t say Wendy’s the most submissive wolf here, but she smells like her daughter. She’s submissive enough.”

  The white and red wolf snarled, snapping his teeth at Frank.

  “Desmond, shut up. Unless you want them to put a silver bullet between his eyes, you’ll shut up, back off, and let your mate try to get near him,” Frank snarled. “If she can dominate him, we’ll know he’s submissive. You know how delicate she is. If he’s able to contest her, he’s not submissive. It’s simple. She’ll be safe enough. It’s your daughter I’m worried about. She’s about as submissive as a pissed off pit viper, and if Richard does try to establish actual dominance, she’ll fight him, and it won’t end well for her.”

  “You could just let me try to bring him to you,” my human suggested, rising to her feet. I whined.

  “You’re not helping, Nicolina.”

  “Do I have to start spelling again?” my human warned, and the anger in her scent reflected in her voice. “I’ll take him to Mom or Dad.”

  “Fine! May I never have a teenage daughter,” Frank spat, throwing his hands in the air. After a long moment, he sighed. “Shit. I already have one. Look, Nicolina. You’re going to get yourself killed, and then your father is going to murder me for letting you do something so unbelievably stupid.”

  “And if it works?” my human demanded, bracing her paws on her hips. “Won’t that give you a chance to pull him back into your pack?”

  Frank turned to the white and red wolf. “Desmond?”

  The red wolf huffed.

  “You have the Inquisition’s blessing to subjugate him, Mr. Desmond. He’s too valuable to the Inquisition to waste like this. The two deaths will be declared justified. He hasn’t harmed the Normal girl. Non
e of the taboos have been violated,” the male with the black box said. “It might be easier to stun him and take him by force, but if you can subjugate him, it’s an acceptable compromise.”

  My human sucked in a breath. “You’re going to do what his parents wanted to do to him? Force him to join a pack?”

  Frank snorted. “Fenerec belong in packs, Nicolina. Subjugation happens; an Alpha proves he can’t hold his wolves, and another one comes in and takes them. That’s what Sanders tried to pull with Sasha. That’s why Richard got so upset; it’s his job to prevent it. But that’s not a severance—not like what they did to him.”

  “It hurt him,” my human whispered.

  “I’m surprised he held out as long as he did,” Frank whispered. “In case you’re worried, it was a shock and it hurt us a little, but we’re fine—he’s the one who took the brunt of it. Who knows? It’s possible he might emerge relatively unscathed and just go back to being Richard. We won’t know until we get him back in the pack and see how he settles out.”

  My human made a thoughtful noise, reached down, and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. “Richard, come.”

  I didn’t want to go near the other wolves. I tucked my tail and dug in my claws, lowering my head as I whined.

  A pack was something I didn’t need or want. Packs hurt. I remembered. A pack meant nothing more than pain and loss. My human growled at me, snapping her furless paws, pointing at the nearby wolves. “Richard, do not give me more reasons to want to kick your furry ass into next week.”

  “Your threats could use a little work, Nicolina,” Frank said.

  I whimpered, once again rolling onto my back to tuck my paws up, exposing my belly and throat to my human, hoping for mercy. Looming over me, she grabbed hold of my muzzle, muttered something under her breath, and bit down on the tip of my nose as hard as she could.

  I howled and yipped, scrambling to get away from my human. She stalked me. “Richard,” she hissed.

  Driven from the den and surrounded by wolves I didn’t know, I panicked, desperately seeking an escape. The white and red wolf watched, seated on his haunches, ears pricked forward. The others stared, heads cocked, ears back and tense.

  Both humans backed away as my human hunted me, flexing her paws. The displeasure and annoyance in her scent surged. “Richard, when I get my hands on you…”

  “You’re frightening him,” Frank said, his tone both worried and amused. “Perhaps you should be a bit gentler, Nicolina.”

  “He licked me,” my human snarled.

  “You needed the bath,” Frank retorted. “You still do, actually.”

  “I’ll kill you next,” my human promised, and her scent burned with her rage.

  “I think your daughter’s quite healthy, uninjured, and acting like her regular self, Desmond,” Frank stated, backing away, leaving the wolves behind. Sighing, the darker wolf stood, tailing after the human.

  Lowering to my belly, I wormed across the ground while my human followed with anger in her scent. With nowhere to go without bumping into a wolf or a human, I cowered, voicing a low, pleading whine.

  “Crying isn’t going to save you, Richard.”

  Of my options, the red frosted wolf seemed the safest, so I dove in his direction, shuddering as I rolled to my back, presented my belly and throat, tucked my tail and paws, and closed my eyes. I waited, trembling.

  Gentle teeth pressed against my neck, accompanied by a faint growl. A whimper worked its way out of me. When the wolf nipped me in gentle rebuke, I stilled. With a low groan, the wolf settled on me, draping his front paws across my chest and belly, pinning me beneath his weight.

  I submitted and went limp from exhaustion.

  When the red frosted wolf abandoned me, the human named Frank knelt beside me, pressing his hand to my throat. “Richard,” he chided.

  With him so close, there was something familiar about the human, but I was too tired to remember what. When I didn’t move, the human ran his furless paw along my side. I should have lifted my head or done something other than wait, but without the need to guard the den driving me, the aches and pains I had ignored crashed down on me.

  My neck hurt the most, and my paws twitched in reaction to the rippling pain racing down my spine with my every breath.

  “You better change fast, Desmond,” Frank called out. “Damien, we’re going to need the wolfsbane and Ketamine, I think.”

  “Frank!” my human protested.

  Shifting my gaze to her, I stared dully, wondering if I could cross the distance to her. She stood with the human who held the black box.

  “No luck subjugating him?” Damien asked, stowing the black box in his fake fur.

  “Why don’t you let us Fenerec deal with Fenerec pack business, witch,” Frank growled. “Nicolina, how well do you think his neck had been healing?”

  “It’s weird,” my human complained, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “When she… when she was severing him, she broke it again. To control him, I think. She kept making him change back and forth, and the last time he became a wolf, it was like he’d never been injured.”

  “He’s still injured,” Frank replied, scratching me with his furless paw behind the ears. “I’m willing to bet his neck is still broken and hasn’t healed all that much.”

  My human drew close, crouching beside me. Reaching out, she pressed her hand to my throat. “But if it’s broken, how can he move? He wasn’t able to after the crash.”

  “Desperation. Fenerec heal fast, and a mad wolf who can’t fight is a dead wolf. Maybe he healed just enough to function during the transformations? How many times did he change?”

  “Five times for certain. I was out for a while, so I may have missed a few. It was early morning the first time she forced him.” My human sounded worried, and her anxiety tainted her scent. “The one time she forced him to become a human, he bled everywhere. He… he was lying in a pool of his own blood, Frank.”

  I whined, but lacked the strength to reach for my human.

  “Deep breaths, Nicolina,” Frank ordered.

  “Sorry,” she squeaked.

  “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Damn it, I can’t even try to subjugate him, Damien.” Frank’s scent soured with his concern.

  “Why not?” Damien demanded.

  “It’s because he’s so submissive,” a familiar voice said, husky with pain. My human rose with a strangled cry, spun around, and launched herself in the direction of the human. My nose identified him as a male. Like the other humans, he wore fake furs. Catching my human in his arms, he held her close. “If I had known they were still lurking in the area, I wouldn’t have let Richard leave the house.”

  “We all thought they had left. There was no sign of them anywhere in the area. We looked,” Frank replied, growling. “Fuck, it’s like kicking a half-dead puppy. I just can’t do it. He keeps looking at me like he expects me to beat him.”

  “Those two were sly,” Damien grumbled. “They’ve been slipping out of our hands for almost two decades, showing up once a year to pick up and drop off the Murphy boy. Each time we’d try to take them down, they’d slip the net. They change identities like I do socks, which makes it even harder to track them.”

  “What’s going to happen to Richard, Dad?” my human demanded.

  “What’s this? You’re worried about him?”

  “They tortured him,” she whispered. “No one deserves that, not even him.”

  “Desmond, can you do it?” Frank asked.

  “Don’t look at me, I don’t kick half-dead puppies either,” the male holding my human replied, shaking his head. “Maybe if I can get him to turn on me I could. As he is now? Forget it. It’d take another mad wolf to try it. Ironically, if you wanted me to suggest an Alpha who could, it’d be Richard.”

  “Let me see if I understand this. You have Inquisition permission to bring him into a temporary pack, he’s not fighting you, and you’re incapable of doing it?” Damien asked, his disbeli
ef in both his tone and scent.

  “You’re a witch without a wolf, so I’ll forgive you for your ignorance,” Desmond snapped, stepping forward to kneel by my head. I sniffed to catch his scent, recognizing him as the white and red wolf. “Sanders, how many submissive wolves do you have in your pack?”

  “Four.” The human who approached smelled like the red wolf, and he joined Desmond at my side. Reaching out, he scratched under my chin. I closed my eyes and sighed.

  “Frank, how many submissive wolves do you have in yours?”

  “Twenty to thirty. Some are borderline, so it depends on the day of the week. Right now? With Richard like this, I’d put the number at a solid zero. We’re riled up,” Frank replied, stroking my ears. “I wouldn’t cross any of the pack right now. We want blood, even the most submissive of us.”

  “You’re going to need a squeegee and a bucket if you want any,” Desmond said, his tone and scent regretful. “He was quite thorough.”

  “That’s disgusting, Dad.”

  “It’s true, though. If we’re going to subjugate him, we’ll have to piss him off. We can if he makes the first move, but until he does? It’s not happening. I can think of two ways to make him angry enough to attack one of us,” Desmond said, poking the tip of my nose with his furless paw. “First way is to find a wolf more submissive than him and make him believe we’re about to get violent. Good luck with that, since I don’t even think your Chrissy is this submissive, Sanders.”

  “She’s not,” Sanders confirmed.

  “Second, we show him his Porsche. If that doesn’t light a fire under his furry ass, I’m not sure what will. I’m open to ideas.”

  Humans surrounded me, taking turns stroking my fur. The sharp tang of their anger faded to worry I couldn’t ease, not even when I whined and licked at their furless paws. I didn’t understand why they were so concerned or what it had to do with me.

  My human sat beside me, resting my head on her lap.

  I breathed in her scent searching for signs of her distress, but she had calmed, with only a faint hint of annoyance marring her crisp, spiced scent. “How are we going to move him, Dad? He weighs a ton.”