Hungry Like a Wolf (The Others)

by Christine Warren

  She didn’t really have a choice. She would just have to pray that if she didn’t make it back to him, he would wake up before someone else found him.

  With one last look at her injured mate, Honor exited the shack, stripped off her clothes, and shifted. Her gray form glinted briefly in the dying light, then bolted into the shadows of the tree trunks, and disappeared.

  * * *

  Honor reached the stone yard during that brief slice of darkness when the sun had fully set, but the moon had not yet risen from behind the cover of the trees. Still, her keen night vision allowed her to clearly see the figures, mostly remaining in their human forms, that milled around the clearing, waiting for the Howl to begin.

  Howls held Lupine packs together. A Howl was a time to celebrate milestones, like births and matings, a chance to hunt together and revel in the magic that ran through every Lupine’s blood, and the moment when power passed from hand to hand. All formal challenges for rank were settled at a Howl, whether the combatants ranked at the bottom of the pack or the top. At Howls, alphas were made, and no able-bodied member of the White Paw Clan would be likely to miss one.

  Especially not this one.

  Pausing at the edge of the trees to catch her breath—and to muster her courage—Honor sent up a brief prayer to the Moon Goddess who had breathed life into the first of her kind.

  Silver Lady, she thought, closing her eyes and feeling the power of the rising full moon, give me the strength to lead my pack into the future; but if I cannot, then give me the dignity to die in the attempt. And above all, please protect my mate from harm. No matter what my fate is, he deserves better than to be punished for my failings.

  As if in response, the first sliver of the pale moon rose above the dark expanse of the forest, but Honor knew better than to take that as a sign. The moon might be beautiful, but she could also be cold. One never knew which face she would decide to show.

  The Lupines already in their furry forms yipped in excitement, and more of the ones still in skin began to remove their clothing. Using their distraction to add to her cover, Honor began to move toward the far side of the stone yard where the stump of an enormous ancient oak had served as a podium for generations of White Paw alphas. Tonight she would take her place on that platform; only the moon knew how long she would keep it.

  She hugged the tree line, sticking to the shadows, as she circled closer. It wasn’t so much that she feared what would happen if she were seen, as that she wanted to take every opportunity to survey the scene and arm herself with a good grasp on the assembled wolves. Most of them meant her no direct harm, but those who did needed to be watched.

  A group of males loitering near the path from the main house caught her attention right away. She could make out the faces of Pete Scott and Greg Carpenter easily enough, but a third man stood with his back to her, and it wasn’t until he took a step to his right that she spotted a fourth figure leaning arrogantly against a tree trunk. Darin Major—who apparently hadn’t given up his ambitions, in spite of his close acquaintance with her mate’s canine teeth—had his arms folded across his chest and an attitude of macho arrogance clinging to him like stale sweat.

  Her lip curled involuntarily.

  She had no doubt about her ability to defeat each one of those males in an honest challenge. As strong as they might be, she was no weakling, plus she had speed and agility on her side. Then there was the fact that not one of them had ever fought a real challenge before. The scuffles that had gained them their places in the pack as they reached adulthood had amounted to little more than a bullying of weaker males or showy wrestling matches that had more in common with pay-per-view cable than real battles for dominance. Honor should know; she had fought three real challenges just this week. She had won those, and she could win these.

  Well, she could have, if any of the males had been inclined to fight fair. One at a time, none of them posed a challenge, but if they banded together, or demanded that she fight them in quick succession, she knew they would wear her down. They had strength in numbers, but Honor was on her own.

  She looked away as she approached the oak stump. She could see her uncle and Max standing in front of it, almost as if they were saving her place. The thought almost made her smile. At least she knew she had two pack members on her side. Two was better than none.

  Probably.

  A flicker of movement drew her eyes to the far side of the stump, about halfway between it and the trees on the east side of the clearing. Joey stood there, slightly apart from a small group of females, some of the women she usually hung out with.

  Okay, so maybe Honor had more than two pack members on her side. She didn’t think any of the females would try to kill her tonight, either. None of them believed she was strong enough to defeat Honor Tate. But more than that, Honor couldn’t imagine any of them being dumb enough to want to run the pack. Most of them realized what rough shape they were in, and they’d rather let someone else clean up the mess.

  She didn’t blame a single one of them.

  As she moved around behind the stump and paused, Honor took a moment to say her good-byes. Even if she survived the coming battle—and she was too much of a pragmatist to plan on that—she realized that life as she knew it was ending. Either she would die on this ceremonial ground, or she could emerge the alpha of the White Paw Clan. At that point it would be too late to wish things were different, that her life were different, that someone else would take responsibility. Once Honor became the alpha, there would be no looking back.

  She waited for a moment, until she heard the crackling sound that signaled the huge bonfire had been lit in the fire pit she’d been working on the morning after Logan’s arrival. She took that as her cue.

  Drawing in a single slow, deep breath, Honor closed her eyes and let the magic flow through her. When she opened them again, it was to step forward and climb atop the remains of the oak tree.

  All talking stopped when the first Lupine spotted her. Honor knew she would be hard to miss. Not only was she standing in the spot reserved for the alpha of the White Paw, she was standing before her pack, tall and bare, her pale skin glowing in the light of the swiftly rising moon and the leaping, flickering flames. The nudity was the least of her concerns. Before long, the entire pack would be naked, because clothing never fared well during a shift. Being naked was natural for a Lupine; being a female alpha was not.

  Well, fuck that, Honor thought as she lifted her chin and opened her mouth to speak.

  “Brothers and sisters.” She spoke clearly, lifting her voice to be heard even at the far edges of the stone yard. She was done with hiding, done with being doubted. She was alpha now, and her pack would listen. “Tonight we gather beneath the moon to mourn the passing of our leader. Ethan Tate led this pack with strength and courage for nearly four decades and for that we honor him. Raise your voices for our fallen brother!”

  Throwing back her head, Honor opened her mouth and let her wolf sound the call. Sharp and mournful, her howl rose into the clear night sky, followed soon after by another, then another, then another, until the entire pack sang a Lupine dirge in memory of her father.

  When the last note died, Honor opened her eyes and let the golden light of her beast shine out over the pack, reflecting the bright glow of the bonfire.

  “And now,” she said, her voice low and rumbling as if a growl struggled somewhere in her chest to be released, “let us do as Ethan Tate would do and move our pack forward into the future.”

  She paused for a second and caught her uncle’s eye, drawing deeply of his supportive strength. Max, too, watched her with calm dedication. She could do this, Honor told herself. She had to do this, because there was no one else.

  “I, Honor Tate, the last surviving member of the alpha bloodline of the White Paw Clan, take for myself the place of alpha. This title is mine. This pack is mine. This territory is mine. Let anyone who would protest come forward and feel my wrath.”

  That, as the st
ories would one day say, was when all hell broke loose.

  * * *

  Logan fought in silence, struggling with all his strength against an enormous weight that pressed him down into a dark, suffocating fog. His limbs felt like granite and moving them even the slightest bit took every ounce of his strength. Something pinned him down, but he knew, he knew that he couldn’t stay here. He knew something was wrong, something that he had to fix, to stop, to make right. Logan needed to wake, and he needed to do it now.

  Consciousness returned on a rush of magic, not the kind that tickled just beneath his skin in the split second before his change, but that kind that rushed forth from a hundred Lupine throats, all raised to the sky in a flurry of song. A pack was calling. It wasn’t precisely his pack, but it felt almost the same. It felt like they were calling out for something; it felt like they were calling him.

  He sat up like a coiled-spring snake bursting from a can of nuts. Adrenaline coursed through his system, making his heart pump hard and fast and leaving him gasping. He felt as if he’d been underwater for too long, and now he sucked air frantically into oxygen-starved lungs. Wide-eyed, he took in his surroundings—the rough, bare walls, the spartan bunk, the moonlight shining in through the single window. For a moment, he felt panic rising. He had no idea where he was. Then Honor’s face appeared in his mind, and the memories came rushing back.

  Racing through the woods. Honor leading him to the cabin. Waking up to the mind-blowing sensation of her mouth on his flesh. Mating. Their argument. The gunshot.

  His right hand flew to his injured left shoulder, feeling the rough texture of gauze beneath his fingertips. Clearly, his mate had stayed with him long enough to bandage his wound, so where was she now? Why had she left? Had she gone for help? That seemed a bit like overkill, given that she would know he’d begin recovering quickly the minute he woke enough to shift.

  The still night air shattered under the impact of a Lupine battle cry, at least three—maybe four—males joining together to howl out their intent to kill. What followed was the most bone-chilling sound Logan had ever heard. A single female howled back, her call a lonely symphony of rage and violence and farewell.

  Before the last note had sounded, a huge dark shape flung itself through the door of the cabin and into the woods, leaving behind nothing but a splintered panel of wood and a bloodstained bandage, glowing white and black in the silvery light of the moon.

  * * *

  Astonishment failed to overtake Honor when her four challengers stepped forward. Each man wore an identical expression of smirking arrogance, and each one stared at some point south of her face when they stopped a few feet in front of the oak stump to issue their challenge. They had their backs to the fire, but that didn’t keep Honor from reading their expressions.

  “I protest your claim, little girl.” Darin spoke first, typically. He was neither the strongest, nor the most dominant male in his little group, but that didn’t stop him from having the biggest mouth. “But I’ve got in mind to feel something a whole lot more interesting than your wrath, baby.”

  His leer would have been comical if it hadn’t made Honor long so desperately for a shower. She said nothing, letting her curled lip and rumbling growl speak for her.

  “I protest.” Greg Carpenter stepped forward next, followed closely by Richard Maloni, the man whose face she hadn’t seen earlier.

  “Me, too,” Maloni added eloquently.

  “I protest, bitch.” Peter Scott managed to combine his own leer with what Honor guessed was supposed to be a sneer. The mating of the two expressions ended up looking something like what she pictured on the faces of first-trimester pregnant women who’d been force-fed rancid sauerkraut, then taken for a rough-weather sailing trip.

  “Your protests have been acknowledged,” Hamish said, stepping up onto the stump beside his niece. It was the responsibility of the pack elders to ensure that any challenges were heard and settled according to pack law. “As this is an alpha challenge presented to a female claimant, you have the right to a choice of methods. You may select either—”

  “We claim the option of the Alpha Mating Rite.” Darin looked at Hamish and grinned with taunting menace. “Don’t waste our time, old man. We’re ready to get down to business. We got bitches to fuck.”

  “I hope you don’t mind the cold,” Honor snarled, “because you’ll have to kill me and hump my corpse, Major. I wouldn’t let you near me any other way.”

  Darin spat something vicious, but it was drowned out by the growls and barks of the other males. The crowd at the edges of the stone yard had gone eerily silent as the pack awaited the outcome of the challenges.

  “Save your energy for the challenge circle,” Hamish snapped. “You all know the parameters of the challenge. An Alpha Mating Rite has been called. Having failed to win the unanimous support of the pack, the unmated female claimant must now accept her strongest male challenger as her mate. There will be no quarter given. If the female is defeated while more than one challenger still stands, the remaining males fight to the surrender or to the death for the right to mate her.

  “Do you all understand?”

  “I understand that your ass is mine, little girl,” Darin threatened, licking his chops as he stared at her exposed breasts.

  “You’ll be dead before you touch it.”

  Hamish extended his hand high overhead and raised his voice to be heard over the growing chorus of growls and snarls. “Let the Mating Rite begin!”

  His hand dropped, the male challengers surged forward, uttering battle cries, and Honor flung herself into the fray with a fierce howl, shifting in the air like a molten gray nightmare.

  Sixteen

  The wolves jolted together in midair, two feral shapes made of claws and fangs and fury. The male, a dull, sandy-blond color, outweighed the female by at least thirty pounds, but she drew first blood, sinking her teeth into the meat of his side before they even hit the ground. The blond wolf screamed in pain and anger, landing in a crouch to snarl at his smaller opponent. She licked her chops, then made a loud hacking, gagging noise, as if she had tasted something that turned her stomach.

  The male howled and surged forward. The female danced out of his reach and flicked her tail in disdain.

  Honor had identified Darin as her attacker immediately. Even if she hadn’t seen his wolf form a hundred times during her life, she would have recognized his stupidity. He had never learned to control his temper, which was one of the reasons she had known she could easily defeat him. When he was angry, what few brain cells he possessed began to shut off like a light switch. He wouldn’t be the one to bring her down.

  Quickly, she chanced a look at the other three. All had shifted and begun to spread out, clearly looking to surround her. She knew they would use Darin’s impulsive assault to their advantage, letting him distract her and wear her down until they got themselves into position to attack her from behind. It was sneaky and something less than honorable, but it was a time-honored hunting technique among wolf packs. And it would probably prove to be effective, unless Honor found a way to counter it.

  She knew her strengths and weaknesses. She would never match the males for size or power, but she was quick and agile and could move in ways they simply couldn’t. Her best bet would be to stay out of reach and slip under their guard when the opportunity presented itself.

  And, of course, to thin the pack.

  A single glance had told her that Carpenter was the weakest link. He might have enough brains not to have gone for her immediately like Darin, but he was smaller than the other three, and younger. Inexperienced. He’d never had to fight for his life before. It was an advantage Honor could exploit.

  She waited for Darin’s next rush, held her ground until she could all but feel his breath in her face, then twisted to the side and launched herself at Carpenter’s unguarded flank.

  He never saw her coming. Her jaws opened, teeth flashing white and deadly, and closed on his near hind leg
, slicing through his hamstring and effectively hobbling him. That made one less wolf who could sneak up on her. If he stayed down, he’d heal eventually. He’d probably limp, but he’d heal.

  Carpenter was made of stronger stuff than she had reckoned, though. Instead of immediately crumpling to the ground, he howled in pain, but then shifted his weight to his opposite leg and lunged for her.

  She felt the graze of his fangs against her shoulder, felt the shock of pain as he opened a slice in her side, and yelped as she threw herself to the side. When he turned to come at her again, though, she was ready. He made the mistake so many men made and headed for her straight-on. Honor braced herself, then dropped into a crouch just before impact and threw back her head. Her jaws clamped around his throat and pulled using his own momentum against him. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  A part of Honor mourned. The alpha in her hated to lose even a single member of her pack, but he hadn’t left her a choice. In this moment, it came down to life or death, because Honor would sooner die than allow herself to be condemned to rape and a life mated to her rapist. No female on earth deserved that.

  Maloni hit her next. He slammed into her like a professional wrestler, knocking her to the earth and attempting to pin her beneath him. Allowing him to do so would doom her.

  Honor squirmed like a freshly caught eel and managed to swing her back end free, giving herself the advantage of leverage. She shook hard and fast, while her rear paws dug into the earth and provided her with something solid to work against. The shaking kept Maloni from getting a good grip on the back of her neck, and bracing her back end meant that the minute he drew back to change his angle of attack, she was able to thrust herself to the side, out of his grasp.

  He didn’t let go easily, however. He lashed out with a large paw and caught her on the side of the head.

  For a minute, her ear rang on that side, and she stumbled, temporarily off balance. Her eye stung, and when she shook her head, a drop of blood clouded her vision. Maloni’s claws had been out. Honor might as well have engraved an invitation to the others.