Wolves of Black Pine (The Wolfkin Saga Book 1)

by SJ Himes

  Forgive me, Caius.

  Luca tried to walk, the Change giving him strength, but not coordination. He tried to see every part of his newly transformed body, but didn’t watch where he was stepping, four legs not any easier to handle than walking on two. More legs to trip over things. Luca fell on his haunches, yipping in surprise, tail wagging regardless.

  *I did it! I did it Grandpa!* Luca crowed in happiness, his mind voice clear and true. Gray Shadow dropped his muzzle to the cub, and Luca tried to lick him, confused when his nose passed right through Gray Shadow’s. He shook himself in surprise, head cocked to the side, one ear flopping. Gray Shadow laughed, and sent Luca a warm rush of love and pride through their blood link. Luca brightened, feeling it, and sent an answering burst of elation.

  *Yes, my little cub. You did it. I am so proud of you. Can you be strong for me now? There is one more thing you must do for me.*

  *What?* Luca asked, his youthful voice happy yet wary, as if he was about to be asked to clean his room or take a bath, interrupting play time.

  *I can’t stay, my sweet cub. I must leave you. So you must hide.*

  *Leave me? Hide? But…*

  *I’m dying, little one.* Luca quailed at his words, confused, hunkering down, with his ears flattening to his skull. *Don’t be scared. You’ll be alone for just a little while. Hide until Kane finds you.*

  *Kane?* Gray Shadow didn’t know it was possible to convey sniffling tears through a mindvoice, but Luca did it, tearing his heart into bleeding chunks. The poor cub didn’t understand, and he wished he could spare him this experience, but there was no help for it. Luca was strong, and would survive.

  The cord to his body was about to break, and he would die, fading away like the mist that still clung to the pines nearby. He didn’t have the strength to return the distance to his body, let alone heal the damage to it. It was a blessing of the Great Mother that he had survived this long, and he would thank Her in person once he was on the other side. This had been a one way spirit trip into the woods, and it was worth it. Luca was alive.

  *Kane. The nice alpha who winked at you last night during story time, remember? He’s searching for you. He will protect you, keep you safe. Hide until Kane finds you. Trust Kane.* Gray Shadow felt it then; a tensing, a tightening of the cord, a heartbeat of time passed, and a snap ricocheted down the cord.. *Kane will help you.*

  His end was here, death, not a stalking predator but a cool breeze of rest on a sweet summer wind, and he could almost hear the whispers of his ancestors through the trees.

  *I love you, Luca, Shaman of Black Pine. Be strong.*

  Gray Shadow didn’t fight the inevitable. This was an end to be proud of; there was no shame in letting go. His ancestors and Goddess were waiting for him. The golden cord broke, shards of light dissipating in the air, and Gray Shadow felt the subtle pull of something potent, overwhelming yet so welcome. He stepped back from Luca, the cub whimpering, yet with his head held high. Gray Shadow watched his grandson for as long as he could, his spirit waning, small pieces of him drifting away in the soft breeze from the river.

  *Love you,* Luca whispered, and Gray Shadow let that love follow him into the unknown.

  CAIUS MOURNED his friend and Clan Shaman, the ache of his loss a gaping wound to match the injury in the fallen wolf’s chest. Caius ran his fingers through the dense fur, feeling the silky soft undercoat, the warmth that still clung to the shifting gray patterns. Gray Shadow’s wolf-form was beautiful, even in death, and that beauty tore at Caius. He bit his lip until he tasted blood, and bowed his head.

  “Mo ghra,” Caius whispered, the Old World endearment slipping free before he could control himself. No one was close enough to hear him, hear the slip that once would have been fatal to them both. The shaman was gone now, and Caius wished he could follow.

  River and Michael held each other not too far away, the pale shaman crying softly into the dark brown fur of the younger wolf. Michael had shifted the second Gray Shadow’s heart beat that final time, as if he couldn’t face his grief in human form. River didn’t care who watched or heard; Caius recalled that River was one of Gray Shadow’s first students, over two centuries old now, and the tie between former apprentice and master was strong, even centuries later.

  “Alpha.” Burke. Dependable and steady Burke. He stood a few steps away, head bowed, not wishing to intrude. Caius could smell the sadness that wracked his tall frame, the bitterness of pain and grief. The wolves along the river all smelled like pain, their bodies low to the ground, ears back, shoulders hunched. They were quiet, waiting. No howls of grief would come, not yet.

  “Yes, Burke?” No tears choked his voice. He would not cry. Even this tiny amount of sentimentality was too close to being seen as a weakness. He was Clan Alpha, and must not show weakness, not now, not this morning. His family, his blood, had been attacked, never mind that the branch was under Gray Shadow as patriarch. Gray Shadow was the Clans’ greatest shaman, unrivaled in talent, ability, skill, and power. He was a remnant of the old days, when shamans guarded the clans alongside the alphas, fighting for survival against all enemies. Black Pine’s supremacy in the north was due mostly to Gray Shadow; his death was going to upset the balance of power.

  And Caius’s heart would never recover.

  “The park rangers are stopped at the gates. No other humans have been found within the park borders. Sentries are reporting fresh spoor from the last few hours of several wolves leaving the park through the woods. We have trackers following the scents back to see where they came from, and to identify the wolves who left. No signs the wolves ever returned.” Burke paused, and Caius waited, not looking up from the body at his side. “Kane is out of my range, and the last I got from him was that he was still searching for Luca.”

  “Gray Shadow said that the human who shot him had reinforcements in the area. Send some packs out, no less than five wolves in each pack. Find where these humans are. They must be close. Restrain first, kill second.”

  Burke nodded, and started to get that vacant yet intense expression in his eyes that said he was speaking telepathically.

  “Wait.”

  “Sir?”

  “Have a pack go after Kane. He’s been out there for hours now. Have the wolves you send help him search until sundown…. And if Luca hasn’t been found, come back.” He would need Kane now, more than ever. The young alpha’s mastery of the Voice, in its formidable full measure, was Caius’, and Black Pine’s, best protection now against rivals.

  “Until tomorrow, Sir?” Caius could hear the doubt, the sadness in his voice. He didn’t believe Luca lived, either. Gray Shadow was dead. His closest friend and companion for centuries was gone. The greatest shaman the clans had ever known was dead, and Caius could only see Gray Shadow dying if he had nothing to live for… if he failed to save their grandson. He wouldn’t die if Luca was still out there, still needing to be saved.

  “Just do as I ask, Burke.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Caius ran his fingers over Gray Shadow’s face, the great skull under his hand still strong and conveying an aura of power, even in death. His eyes were closed, the silver orbs hidden now forever. He could be sleeping, sunning on the rocks and dreaming, if not for the gaping hole in his chest and the blood pooled under his body.

  Caius pushed his hands under the dead wolf’s torso and hindquarters, lifting him gently, standing as he did. He cradled Gray Shadow to his chest, tail and head hanging limply over his arms, blood dripping from soaked fur.

  He turned from the river, leaving the bloodstained rocks behind, and the place where he lost another of his precious grandchildren. The betas clustered at the shore scurried away as he strode for the trees, head up and his shoulders back.

  Beta, alpha, and shaman followed him as he walked into the trees with his sad burden, the wolves of Black Pine mourning silently. They would not cry out their sorr
ow until their Alpha freed his voice, and gave his grief to the moon.

  KANE STUMBLED in the water, his front legs losing their grip on the rocks. Ice cold liquid filled his nose and made him sneeze, waking him up from his near catatonic daze. The sun was setting, the air cooling, and mist was racing in through the trees. He was exhausted, having ran more miles and swam longer today than any other day in his short 30 years. His paws were cut and bleeding from the rocks along the river, his chest burned from running, and his legs were going numb. He hadn’t eaten that morning before the shaman’s cry for help came through the clan bonds, and he was exhausting stores of energy he couldn’t spare. It was nearly a full day since he last ate, and the pace of his searching was done at a near gallop. Changing required a huge amount of calories and protein, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop his search and hunt, not while there was a cub still missing.

  Kane pulled himself from the river, trying half-heartedly to shake the water from his coat, but giving up as he stumbled again. He struggled up the bank, and collapsed, leaves and pine needles sticking to his fur. He grumbled at the annoyance, and feared he would fall asleep the longer he lay here. He needed to find the cub, before night fell and chances of finding him alive grew slimmer. The temperature was dropping, and there were not just werewolves in these woods. Bears and mountains lions roamed the dense forests, and humans too. None of those predators would be kind to a lost cub, and the humans would make things difficult with their misplaced concern and penchant to overreact to wolves and children occupying the same space.

  “Kane?”

  He jumped, black head turning to the nearest tree. He must be tired, to not sense Burke’s approach. His lover and lieutenant stood beside a large tree, not ten feet from him, naked and bloody. He carried a dead turkey in one hand, the other bracing against the tree as if he needed it for support. Burke didn’t look as bad as Kane felt, though, just drained. Grief was a bitter tang in the air, and Kane huffed, annoyed at the reminder of the day’s events. Not annoyed that the other wolf was grieving as he was, but that the grief was a reminder he had yet to find the cub. That he was failing a member of his clan, one so helpless that he needed Kane, someone—anyone to save him.

  *Caius send you?* He refused to Change, to speak as a man. To do so would be to give up. He knew it was foolish, but the man was weaker, an unconscious concession to something stronger. It’s why Burke stood out of reach of claw and fang, bringing an offering to appease his wolf. Kane sniffed loudly, a grumble and an excuse to scent for more wolves. They were out there, several of them hiding.

  “I came for you, instead of someone else as I’m sure he meant; but yes, he sent me.” Burke took this as permission, and came closer, sitting naked in the pine needles beside his alpha, his long body occupying far less space than his size would lead one to expect.

  *And the others, the ones hiding beyond the trees?*

  Burke snorted, and tossed him the dead bird, the scent of blood and meat pricking Kane’s interest. He caught it in his great jaws and dropped it over his front legs, licking at the few drops of blood coating the feathers. Burke glowered over his shoulder, and the sound of faint growls came through the branches. Kane sent out a low rumble of his own, and the growls in the trees cut off, the sound of paws finding pounding on the needles as the hidden wolves ran off. Kane was Heir for a reason—he was no lesser alpha to poke at.

  “They were convinced you wouldn’t notice them.” Burke tried for levity, but it fell flat. He gave Kane a small smile, a mere lifting of his lips and lacking any emotion. “Shaman Gray Shadow is dead.”

  Kane lowered his head, and breathed through the pain. In and out, and did his best not to howl his rage and frustration at the moon, still hidden under the horizon as the sun set.

  “Caius sent us to help you search for the cub…then bring you back at sunset.” Burke’s voice was soft, a bare whisper of breath. Kane heard what Burke wasn’t saying. Caius believed his grandson to be dead, and was calling Kane home.

  *It’s sunset.*

  “Yes, it is. But I’m in no rush.” Burke reached out, and poked at the turkey. Kane put a large black paw on it, and raised a lip at the other alpha. Burke poked the bird again, goading him, and Kane snapped at his hand, the Speaker laughing as he pulled his fingers back in time to avoid losing one. Kane gave in, and tore into the bird, spitting out feathers until he got to the meat.

  *Caius will be displeased.*

  Burke just shrugged, fingers playing in the pine needles, trailing through the soft blanket of needles that they sat upon. If Burke wasn’t worried about their Alpha, then Kane wouldn’t worry either. Burke was always telling him that he wasn’t choosing his battles wisely, backing down when he should fight, and fighting when he should talk instead. Burke was usually right, too.

  “The pyres are set to burn at midnight. We have time to rest. Then we can search some more, and return to the park. Hopefully with a cub in tow, too.” Kane knew Burke didn’t believe Luca was alive, but his lieutenant-lover-best friend was a kinder soul than Kane, and didn’t say so out loud. He would help Kane search, and when they could search no more Burke would patiently run beside him on the way back to the park, and the funeral pyres waiting to be lit.

  Kane didn’t react outwardly to the hand that ran over his head, and down his neck. Kane ate, his hunger an aching emptiness in his gut, and Burke pet him, an action allowable now that the others were gone. Such a caress was more for Burke than for him, the other alpha fighting back tears, and if pretending to comfort Kane instead comforted Burke, it was the least Kane could do for the poor wolf. He would never tell Burke that the gesture soothed his hurts as well.

  LUCA SHIVERED, drawing himself farther under the fallen log, his fur still damp. He was scared, and the sounds his now supersensitive ears kept picking up weren’t helping any as the sun set. The forest came alive with sound, and the murmur of the nearby river did nothing to quell the noises coming at Luca from all directions. He heard birds settling down to sleep in the branches, little animals burrowing in the earth under his paws, and the clicking of insects so close to him he could reach out with his snout and touch them.

  He was very hungry, his stomach gnawing at his backbone, a phrase he’d heard his daddy say all the time but never understood, not until now. He wanted his mom, and nothing more than to climb into bed after supper and sleep under the covers in his own room.

  Luca tried to curl up smaller, another wave of shivers racking his small frame. He was happy to be a wolf, even if he was hungry and cold and wanted to go home, and he couldn’t wait to show his dad or Grandpa Caius. They were going to be so proud of him. Grandpa Shadow had taught him to find his wolf before he left, and Luca flinched away from the thought he would never see the great shaman again. Grandpa Shadow said he was dying, and that he had to leave, but he was a powerful shaman, and he couldn’t die. This must be a test, a trial like his cousins bragged about when they were going through their shaman training. That’s what this was, a test. To see if he was strong enough to be a shaman.

  Grandpa said that Kane was looking for him. Told him to hide until Kane found him. So he’d pass the test if he waited for Kane. Grandpa said to trust Kane, that Kane would find him and keep him safe. So he would wait and hide, because he trusted his grandpa, and he wanted to go home. The alpha was nice, and Luca liked him, feeling safe when the big male was nearby. Making Kane smile made Luca happy, and he hoped Kane would smile if he did as he was told and waited for the Heir. Most alphas made Luca nervous, especially his uncle Roman. Uncle Gerald was a big softie, but he had a temper sometimes, and his uncles were lesser alphas. Except for Kane, Luca didn’t like alphas much. Even Grandpa Caius made Luca nervous sometimes.

  Luca fought to stay awake, jerking every time he heard something in the trees. If Kane was going to find him, he didn’t want to be found sleeping. He was so tired, and the earth was warming under his body at last, all wo
rking to make his head droop and eyes shut.

  Wayward

  CATHERINE MEDEIROS, Ph.D. in Biology, and Director of Luna Wolf Rescue and Research Sanctuary in New Brunswick, swore viciously as another mosquito snuck a snack from her neck. She slapped her hand over the offender, managing to knock her hat off in the process.

  “Easy, Cat, or you’re gonna scare off the wildlife.”

  Cat sent a glare to her research partner, Glen’s easy going smirk solidly in place as he casually navigated the underbrush in the near dark. She was having trouble seeing where to put her feet, never mind the super-megawatt torch she was using to light her way. She had trouble seeing where she was going even in her labs at the research center, and trekking through the woods in Maine being eaten alive by bugs was not her idea of fun. Her glasses were fogging up as the temperature changed, and she kept having to wipe off the moisture.

  Glen Mitchell was a big man, older than she by at least ten years, placing him in his late thirties, and he never put a foot wrong. He spent most of his time in the woods, photographing wolves in their natural habitat. He was a big supporter of the wolf restoration projects, chronicling the species’ return to eastern Canada and the northern United States. She was here in Baxter State Park with him to substantiate or disprove rumors that wolves were back in Maine, actual functioning packs and not loners just passing through.

  Cat waved the torch at him, gesturing angrily. “I think the wildlife is hiding from the monster bloodsuckers. I haven’t seen any sign of wolves here in Baxter since we arrived three days ago. Ouch!” She smacked another flying leech, this time on the back of her hand, and ended up dropping the torch. Glen laughed, and set down his pack on a large flat rock. He carried most of the camping gear as well as his camera equipment, since she had trouble just carrying herself through the trees without tripping. Glen was used to being the pack mule, as he refused to replace any more gear broken by an uncoordinated scientist.