by SJ Himes
“Take your time. You’re safe here, I promise.”
“It must have been silver in the canisters, Sir. My eyes and nose burned, and when I breathed it in, I thought I was breathing in fire, or acid, it hurt so badly. I tried to Change, but got caught partway, and I couldn’t walk. It was like learning to find my wolf for the first time, everything happening out of order, and it hurt.” Kane nodded, easily seeing the scene the younger man described. They had found traces of a silver-based aerosol chemical in the houses belonging to the Suarez wolves, and it would inhibit the Change if applied in large enough doses. “Everyone was screaming, I could hear my father howling and sounds of a fight. I think my dad managed to Change all the way, and he was fighting whoever was attacking us.”
“What happened after that?” Kane was trying not to rush him. The boy was the most stable of the wolves recovered, and even then he had to be careful, as his ordeal had been horrific, and he didn’t want Gabe withdrawing like his mother.
“I passed out, Sir. I don’t know. I woke up…I woke up in that dingy apartment, naked and tied up with metal wires that burned my skin.” Gabe looked like he was about to vomit, swallowing fast and literally paling to corpse-white in front on Kane’s eyes. “Then….there were humans….”
Whatever he was thinking was enough to make him panic, and Kane leaned forward, across the table. He put a large hand on the youth’s shoulder, reached out with his mind, using the gift of command to pull the youngling out of his fear. He caught Gabe’s mind and pulled it to his own, pushing back the distress, and instantly stopping the panic attack the youth was about to have. Here he left the gift of command behind, and summoned the Voice, carefully unfolding the slumbering power from the depths of his own mind. He must tread lightly, and with extreme care.
Usually he would not be so callous with the mind of such a battered wolf, but Gabe’s reaction to his mind was instantaneous, his gratitude swamping Kane for a second before he put up a wall between their emotions. Kane raised the wall, a mental buffer between the boy’s memories and his emotional and physical reaction to them, and Gabe’s mind clung to his. Kane’s mind was ordered and calm, his emotions separate from his thoughts, and Gabe surrendered his mind, letting Kane handle the hard part of thinking and feeling at the same time.
*You need not speak of what happened. I was there when we found you, I saw what they did to you. With your permission, I can see all that you remember, so you do not have to relive it by telling me.*
Gabe’s reply was swift and relieved, wordlessly pleading for Kane to spare him the task of recalling his abuse. Kane held his eyes, and the boy let go. Kane caught his mind, holding him, submerging his conscious mind, placing him in a state humans would call catatonic. Kane was able to physically let go of the boy at this point, and sat back in his chair. Gabe was staring, eyes blind, not even blinking, chest rising and falling evenly, slowly. His mother was staring at Kane in shock, and some rising alarm, but there was motion off to the side, a pale blur that materialized into a slim hand that landed gently on her shoulder.
“Your son is fine, Alpha Kane is helping him.” Shaman River stood behind his sister Andromeda, as she comforted the female beta. “Come, leave them alone for a bit. Shaman River will stay here with them.”
Andromeda patiently pried the female from her unresponsive son, and Kane gave her a nod of thanks as River walked around the chairs, standing at Kane’s shoulder. The two females left the room, and the door shut behind them.
“You have taken over his mind.” A statement, not a question. “You’ve extended the Voice past the influential stage to that part of it that lets you manipulate another wolf’s thought patterns.”
“Yes, I have.” Kane was thankful there was no judgment in River’s voice, only a calm professional curiosity and interest. “I’m not hurting him.”
“I would not let you continue if I thought you were.” Kane believed River could stop him, if he suspected Kane was hurting the boy, and he was very glad that it was River here, and not some stranger. It may have been fifteen years since Kane saw River last, but they all lived very long lives and fifteen years was nothing between wolfkin. River was no stranger to object to Kane using his ability, the coveted Voice, in such a way. He appreciated the trust and turned his mind back to the boy.
Kane sorted through the boy’s memories, cringing mentally as he saw the rape of the boy, and his family, over the course of several days. Beatings and drugging and assault after assault, and he felt the boy’s misery, his despair, and the wish for him to die, as a means to escape. Kane paused, seeing the buried desire the boy hid, even from himself, along with the shame of having been used so brutally. It was not his fault, but even the strongest of wolves could break under such conditions. Kane paused in his perusal of the boy’s memories and extended a mental line to River, inviting him in to see.
River hesitated, as this skated the edge of moral behavior. River was a shaman though, and the boy’s injuries weren’t just to his body, but to his heart, his mind, his soul. Kane was no shaman to help heal such wounds, and the hint he gave River of the boy’s mental state would help the shaman heal the boy in the months to come. River took a lightning fast look at the glimpse Kane gave him before withdrawing. He heard River sigh softly where he stood at his shoulder, full of sadness and compassion. River would have a surer idea of what he was dealing with now.
Kane finished examining the boy’s memories, feeling sick to his core at what he’d experienced there. He batted away the feeling, not wanting to leave a hint of his own emotions behind for the boy to deal with on top of his own. Kane focused, narrowing down his view, and put an inaudible directive deep in the boy’s psyche. Every time he started to become overwhelmed by his memories, Gabe would find the strength Kane left him. Faith in himself and his ability to heal, and belief that he could lead a life free of pain and fear.
Kane would not take his memories, as it was not his place to alter the boy to such a degree. Leaving the mental reinforcement behind was as much as he was willing to change without affecting free will.
Kane withdrew, sending the boy to sleep before leaving completely, and he slumped back on the couch, going limp. He would sleep for a short while and wake, fully aware of Kane’s actions. If he had complaint, then Kane would remove the directive, even though it was more emotional bulwark than a controlling influence. He doubted the cub would ask that of him. River went to his side and put a hand on his forehead, eyes shutting as he used his healing ability to see to the boy’s state. He dropped his hand away after a moment and looked at Kane.
“Well done, youngling. I have not seen such a use of the Voice before. Usually alphas use it for less delicate things, for far more selfish reasons.” Kane flushed at River’s praise and slowly stood. He hadn’t seen any wolves in the boy’s memories, only the humans that Kane and Sophia killed as they took the complex. The two surviving humans were soon to be delivered to Alpha Caius, and he would have to trust that his Clan Leader would learn who the traitors were through the prisoners. “If the Mother of us all had made you a shaman, you would have handled that life well.”
“I need to check in with my wolves,” Kane said, uncomfortable with the praise. It was his duty to help the wolves under his care, and what good was the Voice if he couldn’t use it to take care of them? He wanted no part in spreading his dominion or wresting control from perfectly capable clan leaders, and this was a far better way to use the coveted Voice than taking lives and ruining other wolves.
River waved a hand at him, dismissing him from the room. It was so like Andromeda doing the same that Kane cracked a smile. He walked out of the room, closing the door on the sight of the shaman covering the young alpha with a blanket.
Learning a New Path
GHOST STOPPED on a small rise, lifting his head to the breeze and tasting the scents it brought him. He smelled the ever-present pine trees and a small herd of deer to the no
rth. Somewhere to the south and east was the smell of silt, mud, and damp earth, which must be the river. His heart stuttered at the thought of coming across the river that changed his life, and he pushed aside that worry. It was just water, nothing else.
His stomach rumbled, and he thought briefly about hunting for his midday meal, but he was in unknown territory and the scent of blood would be a strong signal to any and all predators that he was there. Thinking of scent made him nervous, and he looked back the way he had come, his tracks the only blemish in the otherwise pristine snow.
If anyone crosses my trail, they can follow my scent and tracks back to the cabin, he thought, glaring at his tracks in frustration. Most predators tracked by scent, but wolves went by sight, then scent and sound. Add in the sentient thought process of the wolfkin, and he was leading any potential wolfkin in the area straight back to his humans.
Ghost sat down, and stared back at his tracks in consternation. He wanted to go deeper into the park, but the farther he went, the likelier the chance of someone coming across his tracks. Any wolfkin here would know their territory and could probably guess the location of the cabin based on the direction of the tracks. Ghost was risking his humans with every step. He thought about going back, but the tracks would remain, and he glared at them, highly frustrated.
The wind moved, subtle, across his muzzle. He was so busy thinking about what to do, whether to go back or onwards, that it took a strange hissing for him to notice what was happening. His tracks came up the small hill in a straight line, showing that a large animal at a fast trot had come through, but he blinked as he had trouble seeing them. When his eyes opened, shorter than a second closed, his double-vison was back. The snow glowed, shining like silver dust, and his tracks were a dull blight on the frozen expanse. Or they were, as the breeze he finally noticed blowing past his nose was rushing over the snow, lifting the fine top layer, and imprints made by his paws. He blinked and shifted nervously on his haunches, the breeze started to die out, pausing with the tracks partially filled. He stumbled mentally and finally grasped what part of his brain was sending out the instructions to the wind. It was like telling his tail to stop wagging when he hadn’t told it to start, his body reacting instinctively to his moods and subconscious thoughts.
It took him a moment, but he resumed the wind’s work, and the tracks filled, for as far as he could see. He was out of sight of the cabin, so he didn’t know if this was erasing all his tracks, but he was erasing a large swath of them, so he’d have to trust that this would be enough. He let the wind die out and shook his head, feeling tired suddenly. His stomach complained again, cramping slightly, and he whined even as he dropped his nose to the ground. He scented deeply, and could only smell the snow and the frozen ground underneath.
I erased my tracks and scent. I wasn’t even trying!
He stood, tail wagging, excited. He could now search the park and not risk his humans. It didn’t make them totally safe, as wolves patrolled their territory regularly, but this was something he could do to keep them as safe as possible. He didn’t want to put Glen or Cat in a dangerous situation, and he didn’t want Glen shooting one of his kin. It might not do major damage, but Glen would shoot to kill if it meant protecting his mate.
He turned back to the park, the double-vision still in place, yet not as strong as a few moments prior. He saw dull glows in the trees, and from under the snow, but with the sun shining through the branches to the ground, the lights weren’t as bright as they could be, not as distracting. A tiny glittering dart crossed the periphery of his vision, and he turned his head to see what it was. At first he saw nothing, but the sing-song call of chicka-dee-dee-dee settled his nerves. The tiny black and white bird trilled its call again, and he could see the infinitesimal spark of light from its tiny internal star shining through its feathers as it sang above him in the trees. It was a familiar song, and he wished again he could regain his human form, mentally feeling the desire to smile. The tiny life above him was enough to banish some of his loneliness, and he listened until the singer flew away.
Pleased, Ghost dipped his head, finding comfort in the sounds of the forest around him. He pulled at the double-vision, increasing the glows, backing off when it got to be too much. He found a comfortable balance, and realized just as it showed him what he assumed were living creatures, he could also see past the trees and brush. If he came across his kind, he might have warning, giving him far more options than relying on just his normal senses. Considering the constant swirling of the wind, that was a big advantage.
Now where to go? Deeper towards the center, where Glen said the main camping grounds were, or… He was torn, again, but decided to just point his nose and follow it. He was afraid of what he would find here, but he was no puppy to cower in a den and hide. He took off, nose and ears and double-vision scouring the woods in all directions, wondering if he would have the courage to approach his people if he found them, or run from them.
“ARE YOU going to confine me to the cabin like a puppy?” Gerald stormed around the main room of the cabin he was sharing with some of the Black Pine betas, and Kane stifled a sigh of exasperation as he waited for Gerald to stop ranting.
He’d come from Andromeda’s cabin, intent on returning to his own before reaching out to Burke and Sophia to check on their progress, only to be stopped by one of the Red Fern wolves, informing him that lesser alpha Gerald was making a nuisance of himself. Apparently Gerald was throwing his weight around, sniffing after some of the younger, unmated females of their hosts’ clan, and the Red Fern mothers were about to go to Andromeda with their complaints.
Mindful of the Clan Leader’s warning concerning Gerald’s behavior, Kane interceded and went to handle the lesser alpha himself. He didn’t feel like sending Gerald home to his father in a body bag if Andromeda handled the situation, and he was reminded again that Gerald was one of his wolves, and his responsibility, no matter how onerous. The lesser alpha was in the communal mess hall, where the pack members gathered for large meals, and Kane had gone straight there, ordering him out of the cafeteria and back to his cabin.
“Tell me why I was informed you were bothering the females of our host clan,” Kane demanded sharply. Gerald wasn’t expecting that, and the lesser alpha stopped mid-stride and flushed. “Tell me the truth of your actions, and I may not have to treat you like an ill-mannered whelp and confine you to the cabin.”
“I wasn’t ‘bothering’ them.” Petulance and anger, and some embarrassment were in his voice, and Kane waited, unsatisfied.
Gerald snarled and spun to the nearest wall, punching the wood logs, the sound loud in the small living room. Kane was unimpressed and didn’t move a muscle. Gerald was no threat, and something was obviously wrong, the other wolf emotionally off-balance and lashing out. He was rude and spoiled, but even he knew better than to harass unmated females in territory that wasn’t theirs. Red Fern may answer to Black Pine, but this was Andromeda’s land, not Caius’, and Gerald was well aware of that.
“I was just talking to them,” Gerald muttered, fists clenching at his sides, speaking to the wall.
“’Talking?’ You were bothering underage females, and you ignored their mothers when they asked you to leave.” Kane held back his incredulity, and he wasn’t going to let Gerald out of this, no matter how uncomfortable the topic.
“I was just talking to them! I didn’t touch a single hair on their heads! I was just asking them about….” Gerald spun back to him, glaring, but he stopped speaking mid-sentence.
“Asking them about what?” Kane demanded, meeting Gerald’s eyes, holding until the lesser alpha dropped his gaze.
“If it was true their clan only produced shamans and betas,” Gerald mumbled to the floor, and Kane bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He thought he knew what this was about. Younglings rarely minded their tongues and were a good source of information, as adults spoke freely around cubs and tended to forg
et that their young had ears.
“It is true, Gerald. Red Fern has not produced an alpha in over two hundred years. Thinking of Challenging Andromeda for the honor of being Red Fern’s first alpha in two centuries?” Kane asked dryly, watching the other alpha carefully. He blinked in surprise as Gerald blanched, shaking his head.
“Oh no, I’m not stupid. Andromeda would kill me.”
“Yes, she would. In fact, she warned me she would take care of you if you didn’t mind your manners while you were here,” Kane informed him, and he watched as Gerald paled, obviously nervous at the prospect of having to face the wrath of the White Wolf. “So perhaps you should spend your time doing something else instead gathering information from cubs.”
Kane waited but got no response. Gerald was staring at the floor, and he seemed withdrawn. Something was wrong with Gerald, something other than being a first-class jerk with boundary issues. Kane stepped away from the door and noted that Gerald flinched, as if expecting a blow. Kane made no move towards him, just sat in the nearest chair. Kane hadn’t come here to beat on him, and a part of him saw a lot in that habitual reaction. How many times had Caius dealt with Gerald with his fists instead of words? Not once had Caius raised his hand to Kane, but then he long suspected that Caius was afraid of him, which left his Clan Leader steadily and increasingly resentful towards him.
Just because he never struck Kane, didn’t mean he never struck his sons. He remembered Caius’ lone daughter, Marla, and she had been treasured by her father, treated like she was made of glass and liable to break with one harsh word or glance. His sons were another matter, though. They were all lesser alphas or betas, none of them even coming close to Burke’s level of power, let alone Kane’s. That would be enough to make any father bitter and look for an outlet for that bitterness.
