by Cheree Alsop
I was still resting on the couch when Nora’s familiar footsteps sounded down the hall. She paused outside the door and I could hear her shifting her weight from foot to foot. A light sound touched the door, then she took a deep breath and turned the handle. I sat up and winced at the sharp pain that came from the movement, but I schooled my face not to show it when she stepped inside.
“You’re awake,” she said. The emotions in her eyes conflicted as though she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.
I shrugged, then regretted it and leaned back. “Just recovering.”
“From the stick?” she asked. She quickly crossed the floor to me as though worried I was going to pass out at any moment.
The thought made me chuckle shallowly. “From talking to my mother.”
She grinned. “And I thought I was the only one with an exhausting parent.” She sat down on the floor so that her back leaned against the couch by my legs. I resisted the urge to touch the shiny strands of long back hair that rested on top of the brown leather.
“Let me see,” I said to distract myself. “I suffer from a case of mild parental neglect with sudden bursts of extreme controlling and long-distance concern. You?”
She shook her head and I could see the corner of her smile when she replied, “Nope. My dad’s the opposite. He’s overbearing, extremely protective, and determined that I’m going to get myself caught in a situation I can’t get out of without him.”
We both sobered at the thought that he might be right. I took a testing breath and let it out slowly. “My dad pretends that he doesn’t have a son.” My heart clenched at the words I hadn’t admitted to anyone. I don’t know why I told them to her, but the truth sounded so much harsher when spoken out loud. “When I moved here, he found it more convenient to forget about me than to keep up the exhausting job of staying in touch.”
I waited for Nora to laugh or brush it off, but she didn’t do either. Her fingers strayed to the hem of my pants near my bare feet and she toyed with the fraying cloth. The light brush of her hand against my skin made me close my eyes. Besides Traer patching me up occasionally, no one touched me, not even by accident. No one messed with the hulking werewolf who could break them in two. I wasn’t sure I would know what to do with affection if I got it.
Unaware of my thoughts, Nora concentrated on her fingers. “My mother disappeared when I was young,” she said in a voice as guarded and searching as I imagined mine had been. “My dad says she was killed by werewolves, which is why he became a Hunter. He never had proof of it, but he’s spent his whole life protecting me and preparing me.”
“For what?” I asked quietly.
“For them to try to take me, too.” She let out a slow breath as though they were words she hadn’t spoken out loud before either. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. He’s told me the story of her disappearance several times, but it doesn’t add up and it changes every time he tells it.”
“Have you tried pointing that out?” I asked cautiously. I worried she would stop talking and hide behind her defensive persona if I asked the wrong question.
She shook her head, then turned so I could see her face. Her fingers stayed knotted in the cloth of my pants as though it kept her grounded. “Can you imagine what it’s like living with a father who’s convinced his daughter is going to be killed by werewolves any day? I was escorted to school, then afterwards when other kids were at play dates or sleepovers, I learned how to clean a gun and make my own bullets. I owned my first twenty-two when I was eight, and could shoot it with a nickel’s accuracy a year later.” Her eyes studied the couch, her gaze hard as she saw past the leather. “I took martial arts, fencing, boxing, anything my dad thought would help me later. He didn’t let me have any friends, and fired someone if they talked to me too long.” She paused, the outrage she felt etched on her face.
“That’s horrible,” I said softly. My own problems with my parents diminished and I felt bad for snapping at my mother when she was only concerned for my wellbeing.
“That’s why I went out with Jerome and the others. I wanted to get away and prove to my dad that I could handle myself.” She gave a humorless laugh. “But look at me now.”
I hesitated, but the loss in her eyes gripped my thoughts. I reached out a hand and put my fingers under her chin, tipping it up so she would look at me. “Nora, you saved my life. You could have given up on me and left, but you didn’t. That’s a daughter any father should be proud of.”
Her eyes held her want to believe my words. I felt an echoing response in my heart for my own father’s approval, to be able to go home again or live my life the way I wanted. Her lips eventually twitched up in a small smile. “I don’t know if he would agree with me saving a werewolf.”
“The werewolf you saved is grateful regardless,” I responded.
She smiled her soft smile and turned her back to the couch again with a satisfied breath. Her hair brushed against my knee, leaving several strands hanging on the fabric of my jeans. This time, I steeled my nerves and reached out. Her black strands were as soft as her true smile. I let them play between my fingers and watched her shoulders tense when she realized what I was doing.
She turned slowly, her eyes on her hair in my palm. “Untying a knot,” I lied.
She smiled and pushed up on the couch so that she sat next to me. She lifted a hand, then hesitated. My heart started to pound and I looked away, unsure I could trust the feelings that thundered through my mind. Her fingers touched my hair, soft at first, then with more confidence. I looked back and found her watching me, waiting to see my response. When I didn’t say anything, her lips quirked at the corners. “I thought there might be a lion hidden under this golden mane.”
I laughed in surprise, then winced before I could hide it. “Haven’t seen a barber in a while,” I admitted quickly to chase away the concern that flitted across her face.
Her fingers toyed with the dark blond strands that fell unruly across my forehead. “It suits you,” she decided.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I thought I was more of the bear type.”
She shook her head, her eyes serious with only a hint of teasing laugh lines around the edges. “Only a lion could keep this pack under control. You’ve done a good job here.”
A tremor ran up my spine at the words I had always longed to hear. Two was not an easy life, and the deaths of my comrades weighed heavily on my shoulders. Appreciation was far short with the tempers and compulsions of too many Alphas and headstrong grays living together. “It’s nice to hear once in a while,” I admitted.
She touched my arm, then lifted it up so she could lean against my uninjured side. I lowered my hand back down slowly and let it rest gently at her waist, hoping my fingers didn’t tremble the way my heart did. “It’s nice to be appreciated,” she agreed, her head on my shoulder. I turned my face into her hair and closed my eyes as her heady scent of vanilla and sunflowers filled my nose.
I knew I was falling for her, and even the thought that she was a Hunter’s daughter couldn’t stop the way my heart pounded at her nearness. Werewolves mated for life. I wondered what Mom would say if she knew my heart was being stolen by the girl she loathed. I then realized with a start that she already guessed, and her vehemence against Nora was her way of protecting me.
I frowned into Nora’s hair. She tucked her feet up underneath her and her breathing slowed into a light, steady rhythm. I needed to distance myself from her, but I couldn’t leave the couch. Her presence was too comforting. I closed my eyes and let my head rest back, her quiet breathing a gentle counterbalance to the whirlwind of my thoughts.
***
It took two days until I felt ready to spar again, and then I was pushing it. Drake and Zach ran through the forms with me. My body knew them without thought, but the pain in my side made it difficult to perform several of the moves. I ran through them carefully until I could push past the pain. The gray coats didn't comment at my slow progress and waited pat
iently for me to keep up.
After several hours had passed, Zach cleared his throat and I looked up to see Brian and Ben watching us from the door. “Up for a run, old man?” Ben asked.
“Anytime,” I shot back. “And I'm only a year older than you.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “We'll see about that.” The brothers left and I heard Brian chuckle down the hall.
I punched the bag next to me. It hit the wall with a resounding thud, but the motion sent a slice of pain through my side so sharp my breath caught.
“You sure you should be phasing?” Drake asked. He kept his eyes on the velcro of his sparring gloves that he detached and fastened again.
It was all I could do to keep from attacking him. I had to remind myself that my frustrations were toward Brian and Ben, and most of all my injury that should no longer be bothering me. I let out a breath slowly and walked from the room without replying.
Traer caught up to me in the hall. “Phasing, really? Without need?”
“You know how it is,” I cut him off before he could protest further. “I appreciate Drake and Zach running to my second mother for help.”
Traer rolled his eyes. “They're concerned, as they should be. You need to take care of yourself.”
“What I need is to not be undermined every time I turn around,” I snapped back. A hurt look swept across his face and I regretted my harsh tone. I put a hand on his shoulder. “It might be foolish, but Two is mine and I have to uphold my authority or this place will be overrun. I'm not a weak pup who can sit by while others think they own everyone here.” I softened my words with a smile. “It's just a run. Don't worry so much.”
“Maybe you should worry more,” Traer replied, but the anger had gone out of his words.
Chapter 9
I pulled off my shirt and tossed it on a branch of the gnarled tree I crouched behind. My side already throbbed and my stomach twisted at the thought of phasing, but I was committed. Backing out now would definitely show weakness. I kept telling myself it was only a run and let my body phase slowly into wolf form.
Pain like a dozen hot irons scalded my side as my skin and organs took on the wolf shape. I breathed through gritted teeth and kept silent, but by the time the phase was complete, the pain was so intense I threw up on the red sand and had to lie on my side for several minutes until my strength returned.
A howl sounded and I forced myself to my feet. My limbs trembled, but I shook my coat against the pain and trotted out from behind the bushes. Ben and Brian waited on a rise, both heads turned in my direction. I hoped they hadn't heard me lose my lunch, but there was nothing I could do about it. I pushed the pain down and loped to join them. They turned without a sound and fell in on either side of me. It was then that I knew this wasn't going to be just an ordinary run.
I decided to draw them away from Two, knowing that if the others joined in, I would have no chance. I loomed above them, a bear-sized black wolf with a smaller black wolf running on each side. The weakness through my limbs threatened to steal my strength and running took every ounce of willpower to push past the driving pain. I ran around brush I would normally jump, and took the path up a sandy wash to save my energy. Sunlight bounced off the deep red sand, casting shadows at the base of scrub brush and sage. The azure sky looked like a bowl turned upside down, watching the scene unfold below with the impassivity of the everlasting.
The threat and hostility underlying the scent of the two wolves burned into my mind. They had fought for Two on several other occasions, but accepted defeat almost before we had begun. This time was different; their confidence and the looks they threw each other set my teeth on edge. It disgusted me that they waited until I was at my weakest to challenge me for Two, but I was determined to defeat them no matter what the cost.
The brothers waited until we were several canyons away from Two to attack. They darted forward as one, but I was ready when Brian dove at my front paws. I jumped over his head and spun so that I landed facing them both. Ben snarled and tried to bowl me over with a shoulder against my chest, but I was stronger than either of them even injured.
I grabbed the back of Ben's neck and threw him to the side. He landed against a rock and whined, then charged back with another snarl. Brian leaped at my back when I turned to meet Ben's attack. I rolled and broke his grip on my fur. He hit the ground, leaving a jagged tear across my shoulder.
Ben dove at my throat as I rose back to my feet, but I ducked my head and his fangs lacerated my forehead instead. I gave an inward sigh of thanks for the hard skull my mom always complained about and forced him back. I wiped the blood from my eyes with a paw to clear my vision and felt Brian's jaws close around my back leg. I spun and grabbed his throat before he could leap clear.
I forced him onto his back on the ground. He struggled for a moment and the scent of desperation wafted heavily in the air. I tightened my hold and Brian gave in. His tail curled up to his stomach and he held still. A whine escaped his throat.
Ben advanced from my other side, but the growl that rumbled through my chest stopped him. He may have wanted to attack me, but his brother's life hung by the pressure of my fangs. Instinct bade me to tear into him, to put all the rage and frustration of the past weeks into ripping out his throat; but I knew my responsibilities and the consequences of such an action.
I clamped down briefly to remind him who was in charge, then slowly let go and stepped back to allow him to rise. He cast a furtive glance in my direction and ducked behind Ben. Red showed on Ben's muzzle from my bleeding forehead. He met my eyes for the briefest second, then turned away. I watched until the two brothers left around the next bend. As soon as they were out of sight, my legs gave out and I collapsed on the ground.
The pain that knifed through my side had doubled, and maneuvering through the fight had intensified it until I could barely think. Blood leaked in my eyes. I wiped my face on my shoulder and debated whether to phase or try to make it back to Two as a wolf. I didn't know if I could even survive another phase. I clenched my jaw and limped slowly back the way we had come.
My fear was that Ben and Brian would attack again while I was weak, but either my bravado fooled them or they realized the stupidity of their actions because I didn’t see them. The trek back to our camp felt twice as long. The sun pounded on my black fur with relentless fury, and the azure sky faded to a heartbreaking pale blue. The scent of sun-baked sage tickled my nose and I sneezed. Pure agony ripped through my stomach. I sat for five minutes convincing my legs to carry me despite the pain.
The outside doors at Two were designed to be pushed open by a nose or shoulder. I went to the little-used back door closest to my room and shoved it open, dismayed at how much strength it took. I limped down the hall to my rooms and was grateful to find that Nora had remembered not to shut the door all the way. I pushed it closed with my shoulder and made it to the middle of the living room floor before I collapsed. My body shuddered. I tried to keep from phasing, but lost control through the pain. The phase stretched my wounds and sent a dagger of pain through my side so sharp a yell tore from my lips. I curled in around my side and tried to remain conscious.
“Vance?” Panic filled Nora's voice. Her footsteps ran into the room and fingers touched my shoulder so softly I barely felt them. “Vance, what happened?”
She ran to the door and I listened to her footsteps fade away. I sat up and had the presence of mind to pull a blanket from the couch down to cover my nakedness. Two sets of footsteps returned and the door was shoved open. “Vance, I tried to warn-“ Traer’s eyes widened and he paused, his eyes on the blood streaming down my forehead.
“Not as bad as it looks,” I forced out. Pain throbbed with every breath.
Relief flooded Nora's eyes and she smiled despite a tear that trickled down her cheek.
“It looks pretty bad,” Traer replied. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “What on earth happened?”
“Brian and Ben attacked me.”
The words sent a
surge of anger through my limbs and I pushed up despite the pain. Both of them moved to help me, but I gave them a sharp look and they waited. I sat on the edge of the couch and tried to clear the pain and anger from my thoughts so I could think clearly.
“What are you going to do?” Traer asked softly after a moment.
A dark numbness filled my chest, black and angry. Betrayal. That was how it felt to be attacked by two of the werewolves I had grown up with. The fact that they waited until I was at my weakest showed a cowardice I had never taught them. Fury burned through my body and I grabbed a lamp from the end table and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall and fell to pieces on the ground. The tinkling of broken glass reminded me of the wind chimes that used to hang on our porch during my brief childhood.
I sat back with my eyes on the mess I had made. The pain was a dull throb within my anger. “Throw them out.”
“It's about time,” Traer replied with a candor that surprised me. I glanced at him and he shrugged. “They're getting a bit big for their britches. Time they started to fend for themselves.”
Traer lifted a bandage and I shook my head. I brushed a hand across the wound on my forehead and found that it was already healing. “I’ll be fine,” I said. Bandages were the least of my worries at the moment. Disagreement colored his eyes, but he knew better than to argue. “You know they won't go lightly.”
The young doctor nodded. “And Max and Drake'll probably go with them. I can't speak for Thomas. There's no telling what he'll do.”
The last Alpha of our group was surprisingly mild for his football player stature. Next to me, he was the largest member of the group, but he tended to keep out of disputes. When he did decide it was time to leave, he would go quietly; of that I was sure.
Something was bothering the gray werewolf. Frustration showed clearly on his face edged with something else. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
