"Be sure to take one of your uncles or cousins along with you, though, if you don't mind," Cricket added kindly. "It wouldn't do for a pack princess to be wandering about alone."
Busted. So there'd be no open discussion of my dilemma on the morrow nor any surreptitious phone calls to my mate. But even with a chaperone dogging my heels, I could still attempt to win the Walkers over to my point of view.
Bowing my head toward my father, I accepted his manipulation. But we both knew that I wasn't willing to entirely submit. This confrontation, at least, had been a draw.
***
Camilla greeted me warmly when I showed up unannounced at Walker headquarters the next day, but the sleek pack princess wasn't at all the person I'd expected my bedraggled younger cousin to grow into.
"Terra!" the well-dressed, young woman exclaimed, pulling me into a deep hug and ignoring the werewolves lingering behind my back. In the end, I'd chosen three companions to join me on this first information-gathering session. Figuring that if I had to be babysat, my cousin David would be the best choice out of a bad lot, I'd then diluted my cousin's sobering effect by adding Fen and Blaze to our party. Actually, I would have preferred to have Wade along for backup, but I shuddered to think of what the two youngest yahoos would get up to if left in charge of the Wilder clan in my absence. So Blaze it was.
I'd also considered my companions' ability to hold their own in polite conversation when making my selection, but it seemed that I'd over-thought the arrangement in that department. Camilla's gaze flitted over the trio quickly, seeming to dismiss the males as bodyguards and Fen as a handmaiden without needing to take a closer look. "Come on in and have some cookies," Camilla said as she released me from the hug, and I almost thought the familiar words were emanating from my stepmother's mouth. When had my tomboy cousin turned so domestic?
"I'm sorry to show up out of the blue like this," I offered, realizing my lack of manners even though Camilla was too polite to point out my flawed behavior. I'd been unable to call ahead due to the Wilders' backwards stance on technology, but the Walker clan was clearly of Wolfie's school of thought when it came to modernity, and my third cousin probably would've expected a phone call to precede my visit. In fact, as we'd driven up to Camilla's home, I'd been surprised to realize that my cousin's new pack lived within a suburban, middle-class neighborhood, in which shifter residences were peppered between those of unrelated humans. Probably due to this proximity to non-werewolves, I hadn't seen a single shifter in wolf form as we passed by, which probably made living here feel a bit stifling to the inhabitants. But perhaps the contact with non-lupine humans also boded well for the Walker's willingness to support a female pack leader? I could only hope that would be the case.
My hostess wasn't fazed by the lack of advance notice, but as she welcomed me into her perfectly decorated home, I was a bit fazed by how fully my friend had embraced motherhood. "I'm always glad to see you, Terra," my cousin said, turning on a kettle for tea at the same time that she fended off the reach of a sticky toddler who seemed inclined to take the whole plate of cookies away with him. The child was old enough to talk, and I counted backwards quickly, realizing that my cousin must have been mated and pregnant before she turned seventeen. How had the spunky youngster I'd once known learned to toe the party line so quickly?
As Camilla and I made small talk, my companions faded into the background, evidently realizing before I did that Camilla wasn't going to invite them to sit down and partake of the offered snacks. I resolved to stop and buy my companions an ice-cream cone apiece on the way home, and I felt especially sorry for David, who had harbored a bit of a crush on Camilla back in the day. To David's dismay, my little third cousin hadn't been interested in him then, and the grownup version of Camilla definitely considered my companion beneath her notice now.
Because it turned out that Camilla hadn't just married any old Walker—she'd netted herself the pack leader's oldest son Chad, who seemed poised to follow in his father's footsteps within the next decade or so. And Camilla was as in love with the idea of becoming a pack leader's mate as she was in love with Chad himself, whose awesomeness the young woman described in excruciating detail.
"But you aren't honestly telling me that you haven't found a mate yet?" Camilla asked at last, her effusions finally petering out at the same time that our gossip about common acquaintances died down. My wolf whined silently, and I agreed with her—the current distance we were forced to maintain from our own mate felt even more painful in the face of my cousin's obvious marital bliss.
Luckily, it looked like I might be saved from an extended discussion of my advanced age and spinsterhood when the infant on Camilla's lap began to cry, diverting my cousin's attention momentarily and prompting her to raise the baby to her shoulder and gently pat its back. But my reprieve was short. "There's no one you have your eye on?" the younger woman continued, raising her voice to speak over the child's cries, as if similar complaints were so frequent that she filtered the sound out unnoticed.
This was my chance to take my cousin into my confidence, to tell her that Wolfie and I were mates but that I was being forced to play the field in an effort to keep Wilders on top at the upcoming All-Pack. During our trip here, I'd planned to do exactly that, figuring that the youthful Camilla I remembered would be glad to take part in any mischief, even if she didn't remember me as fondly as I remembered her. David would be a problem since he'd likely report back to my father, but I felt confident that I could wrap the chaperoning cousin around my finger during the ride home.
But now, I wasn't even sure if I could count on Camilla to back up my stance as pack leader in the first place, let alone to ask her husband to do the same. And I definitely didn't feel comfortable spilling my guts to this twenty-year-old Madonna over tea and cookies. So instead, I evaded the young woman's gaze and gathered my thoughts, trying to decide how to respond.
Even with her hands full of baby, my cousin saw right through my budding artifice and laughed. "There is someone," she teased. "And he must be almost as handsome as Chad from that look on your face. But...what? His pack doesn't want you? Your father doesn't want him? Or is the lucky guy a Young?"
Camilla had unintentionally brought up a sore point that I hadn't even taken into consideration during Wolfie's courtship two months prior. Now I remembered that, although ten clans came together each year for All-Pack, only four were heavy-hitters. There was Chief Wilder, who scared everyone else into line, and the Walkers, whose pack Camilla had married into and who tended to garner nearly as much respect as the Wilders in a more mild-mannered sort of way. A third clan, the Bells, were so quiet that they were sometimes overlooked, but their leader was always listened to on the rare occasions when he did choose to speak.
And then there were the Youngs. Wolfie's birth clan was the only real rival for our Chief's status as All-Pack host, and I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten how the Wilders and Youngs always set up their temporary territories at opposite ends of the campground during our annual gatherings. It had been so long since I'd tried to wrap my mind around inter-pack dynamics that I hadn't recalled how my family often intermarried with other packs, but never with the Youngs. If there was a Hatfield and McCoy situation among the local werewolf tribes, then the Wilders and Youngs were it.
And now I realized that, although my life had seemed complicated at the time, my initial meeting with Wolfie had gone remarkably smoothly, all things considered. We had both been so blissfully unconcerned with our clans' head-butting and we'd had so few pretensions of power outside our respective packs that our mating appeared easier than it probably should have been. Now, playing the role of a pack princess, I realized that the idea of me being attracted to a Young was really quite scandalous.
"He is!" Camilla crowed, watching these thoughts flit across my face and drawing her own conclusions. "Oh, I can hardly believe it. You've fallen for a Young!"
And even though it felt underhanded, knowing that Camilla was drawi
ng the entirely wrong conclusion from the facts presented, I nodded. Yes, I could honestly say that I was sorely attracted to a Young.
Chapter 5
"But that's really not why I came to speak with you," I said at last, drawing us back toward the topic at hand after Camilla had wandered off onto another tangent, this time about Justin's extreme attractiveness. Apparently Wolfie's brother rated a nine out of ten on my cousin's scale of hotness, lacking that final point only because the young woman was so completely enthralled with her own mate.
...A mate who came bounding in the door before I could drag Camilla back onto a more appropriate conversational track. I was surprised to find that, despite Camilla's protestations about his beauty, Chad was barely older than the yahoos and still had that gawky, ungainly aspect that young-adult shifters tended to sport when they were still growing into their wolf bodies. Meanwhile, a glimpse of Chad's lupine half, who was busy wagging his tail and leaping up in excitement, made me immediately warm toward the young shifter. All told, Chad seemed to be one of those rare alphas whose wolf felt no need to prove his dominance to the world, and I realized that my third cousin's mate reminded me a bit of my own.
"And who is this beautiful shifter?" Chad asked after the joint gaze of adoration that he initially exchanged with his wife finally came to an end. The young alpha's eyes were sparkling with good humor that turned the sentence into a compliment rather than an attempt at conquest, and I could tell that the words warmed me and Camilla alike. "She must be related to you, Cammie darling," the shifter continued, "to house such a beautiful wolf."
Turning away from me once again, the young shifter bent down to kiss my cousin on the lips rather than letting her reply, which gave me the time I needed to cover up my surprise. Although all alphas could catch glimpses of others' wolves, Wolfie and I were the only ones I'd met who regularly did so while our human forms were in control. In contrast, most dominant wolves tried to...well...to dominate their wolves. With their lupine halves so firmly suppressed, those shifters weren't able to take advantage of the wolf's advanced senses, so they were seldom able to peer beneath the surface and understand what another shifter was up to while both were in human form.
I'd thought that Wolfie and I were unique in having developed an equal partnership with our lupine halves, my own skills having been learned by painstaking emulation of my mate's. But apparently I'd been wrong. Because speaking with his exuberant wolf was the only way for Chad to have known what my own lupine half looked like, and I had the feeling that his compliment hadn't been idle praise.
My estimation of Camilla's young mate rose in an instant, but so did the hairs on the back of my neck. If Chad could discern my wolf, then I couldn't really afford to lie and have my deceptions revealed by my lupine half. After all, while my wolf was handy to have around, she was incapable of standing behind my untruths, and her lack of deceit would make the rest of this conversation tricky at best. Perhaps it would be smarter not to broach the subject of my role as pack leader after all....
Doesn't matter, my wolf said shortly. He's a besotted puppy. Look.
At my wolf's command, I peered more closely at Chad and Camilla as they slowly broke out of their shared embrace, and as I did so, I could understand my wolf's point of view. The duo's lupine halves were so firmly focused on each other that it was a wonder Chad had been able to notice his visitor's wolf at all. Hopefully, the young alpha would be too busy casting puppy-dog eyes at his mate during the rest of my short stay as well and wouldn't notice that I wasn't quite on the up and up.
But, despite Chad's lack of focus, I still wanted to take my leave as quickly as possible, just in case. And as I was mustering the words for a polite farewell, Chad settled down onto the arm of his mate's chair and speared me with a level gaze.
"So, why did you come to speak with my mate?" he asked. And although the young alpha's words were still cordial, I could tell that he hadn't missed a trick. My cloak of invisibility appeared to have abruptly turned opaque.
***
"I'm Terra, Chief Wilder's daughter," I said by way of introduction. "Um, and Camilla's third cousin," I added when Chad simply sat silently and watched me with that intense, predatory gaze. His lupine half was all business now, barely expending the energy required to wag its tail when Camilla dropped a wifely hand onto his knee, which is when I became positive that my plan to slip away without any explanation had become a pipe dream. Like Wolfie, Chad was far too perceptive to be blindsided by my evasions, and the young alpha also wasn't willing to simply let the matter go.
"And you're my distant cousin however-many-times removed as well, I'm sure," Chad replied, dismissing our relationship out of hand and continuing to peer into my face. The alpha wasn't precisely threatening me, but I could still feel my wolf growl beneath his intense gaze, which seemed to cut right through my skin and that of my wolf in order to read the contents of our shared soul. I was nearly as agitated as my lupine half was at the other alpha's regard, but I did my best to soothe my inner wolf, not wanting to spark a confrontation with someone whom I had hoped might become an ally.
Not that I held much hope on that front anymore since Chad definitely didn't seem very amenable to Wilder advances at the moment.
Behind me, I heard a scuffle as my forgotten retinue started forward, only to be halted by the shifters who had trailed Chad into the room. The young alpha and I looked up at the same moment, catching Blaze about to punch one of the Walker shifters, and I halted the hothead with a quick glare. Immediately, Wilder and Walker youngsters all dropped back into feigned nonchalance, trained well enough to be chastened by glances from their respective alphas. And as I turned my back on our now-peaceful retinue, I almost thought Chad graced me with the barest hint of a smile.
Or perhaps I just caught the tail-end of the approving glance that he was sending toward his own underlings. Because once our gazes met again, they locked and didn't let go.
"Terra and I were friends growing up," Camilla interjected, her head cocking to the side as she tried to figure out why her husband and visitor had suddenly gone so very still and strained. The sweet, young shifter was too submissive to be able to tease out any clues from our wolves, but I could tell that she had picked up on—and was surprised by—the tension emanating from her usually easy-going husband. "Terra just came by to catch up," the girl added, shooting worried glances between me and her mate as she tried to break the ice.
"Cammie, anyone would be lucky to catch up with you," Chad said, almost absentmindedly, not once taking his eyes off mine. If he'd been in wolf form, the young alpha would have been circling around in front of his mate, shielding her from potential danger, and I could tell that he wished Camilla was no longer in the room. "But I suspect Terra is here with something else entirely on her mind. Something pertaining to All-Pack perhaps?"
Darn my easy blushes! I could feel my cheeks heating up as the young alpha guessed correctly, and I immediately regretted being the cause of the downcast expression that drifted across Camilla's usually sunny face in reply. I was as Machiavellian as my father, manipulating other werewolves to make them do my bidding, and I felt like scum for using my little cousin in such a callous manner.
But since my face had admitted as much, I figured that I might as well come clean. "You're right," I told Chad, while keeping my eyes on his mate. "I came here to ask for Camilla's help. You see, my father has finally decided to live up to his nickname of Crazy Wilder, so I've taken over his pack. But I know a female pack leader will have a tough row to hoe at All-Pack. So I was hoping I could count on Walker support to ensure that I remain host of the gathering."
"Pack leader? Really?" Camilla asked, and I couldn't tell whether my younger cousin was astounded at my cheek or whether she still maintained enough of her previous willful ways to be excited about my unconventional profession.
But before I could reply, Chad got there first. "But Wilders aren't hosting All-Pack this year," he said, pulling a letter out of his poc
ket at the same time that he pulled the rug out from under my feet. "Youngs are."
***
I shouldn't have been able to tease one faint odor out of the scents flooding the air, but I swore that I could smell the hint of gun metal on that piece of paper from across the room. In response, deep within my mind, my wolf growled, and I could tell that Chad had picked up on my lupine half's agitation since he raised one eyebrow while waiting for my response.
Wordlessly, I held out my hand for the offending missive, not wanting to read the words but unable to prevent myself from doing so. Because trying to finish this conversation without seeing what Justin had written was akin to driving past a car wreck without at least glancing out the window to discover whether anyone had been hurt. Pretty much impossible.
Chad handed over the letter soundlessly and then watched with keen eyes as I unfolded the single sheet of paper. From the mingled odors—leaf mold, pine needles, peppermint, and that tiny hint of gun metal—I guessed that Justin had dictated the letter but signed it himself. Unsurprising behavior, since I recalled how frequently I'd taken dictation for my own father when the time came to send out notifications to the other nine clans each year.
Our annual invitations were one of those complicated facets of All-Pack that would have made no sense to human bystanders. Werewolves liked to keep their options open, so the choice of who would become that year's host was never decided by something as simple as a vote. Instead, the alpha who considered himself the most dominant leader simply sent out invitations to all and sundry, and on the rare occasion when someone else felt compelled to challenge the first's right to host, another round of invites would go out from a different clan in reply. Then back-room deals would be struck all across the region until everyone had RSVPed to a single clan, denoting where the event would actually be held.
Pack Princess: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure (Wolf Rampant Book 2) Page 4
