by SJ Himes
“Yes, because of the charge of blasphemy,” Caius said, a subtle growl in his voice. “It is almost unheard of for that charge to be levied against any wolfkin, much less an heir to a clan. We have so few religious Laws.”
“I don’t understand,” Ghost said, brows lowered, biting his lip. He sent Kane a searching glance, then looked back to Caius. “Kane’s thoughts give me the meaning of the word, but the…concept? The concept is hard for me to understand. We are soulbonded, and She made it so. That has always been a sacred gift. Always.”
“They doubt that we share a soulbond, my love,” Kane told him, tugging on his hand and making him look down. Kane gave him a half-smile, a twist to his full lips that spoke of anger and some odd pain. “Heromindes, whether through bruised pride and fear, or ignorance, believes I have forced my gift upon you. I used the Voice against him in Worcester, and he cannot fathom how an untrained whelp of nineteen could withstand me. He leads the others in their mindset—there cannot be a soulbond between us, because I am alpha and you are shaman.”
“I see our bond with every glance of my Spiritsight,” Ghost replied, leaning on Kane’s shoulder, speaking now to his mate, his grandfather forgotten for the moment. “Every touch we share, every time we have sex, it grows stronger. We’re almost one soul now. How can they not see it?”
Ghost knew other wolfkin could sense the bond between them. They may not be able to see it, as he could, but their mental abilities gave them the ability to recognize a mated wolfkin. Some were better at it than others, and surely a clan leader would have the experience and skills to understand the bond between he and Kane.
“A soulbond is incredibly rare, Ghost,” Caius said, leaning back in his seat, the chair creaking. “Last count, there was only a dozen soulbonds scattered between the clans. There’s just over two hundred clans across the whole world. Hundreds of thousands of wolfkin, and only twelve pairs. Well, thirteen, now. There is only one other wholly male pairing, but those two wolfkin are a beta and an alpha, not alpha and shaman.”
“So, because our Great Mother has only gifted twelve pairs before us, that rarity makes our bond less likely?” Ghost was fed up. He growled, a soft rumble in his chest. This was not the welcome home he’d dreamed of when he was trapped in his wolf-form lost in the North. Though then, he’d been worried his people wouldn’t want him because he was defective and Gray Shadow died saving his life, but now it seemed they did want him, just not bonded to Kane.
How was their pairing wrong?
“Ghost, it’ll be alright,” Kane said, his free hand rubbing over Ghost’s stomach in soothing circles. Ghost rarely felt his temper slip free from his usual calm, but it was escaping his control now. Last time he got this vexed he tore apart an ugly couch back at the sanctuary, but he was a man now, he didn’t think his mate or the White Wolf would appreciate him destroying furniture.
“Then we prove we are bonded,” Ghost said decisively. “Show them the truth, and they must leave us be.”
Caius sighed and shook his head, and Kane hugged him even as he frowned. Ghost could see the doubt and the underlying worry that weighed down both alphas’ shoulders, but he had an unshakeable faith in his soulbond with Kane and the support of the deity who created it. They would be fine.
Caged
Ghost left the cabin, leaping from the front stoop. Paws sank in the fresh snow cover when he landed, puffs of flakes kicking up behind him as he ran through the trees. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless, the mountain air was harsh, clean, and searing, and his blood felt electrified.
Kane was back in the cabin, still talking to Caius. All night long, and for most of the morning, the alphas bickered, plotted, and conjectured, driving Ghost to lose what tolerance he had for endless what-ifs and maybes. He’d given up trying to follow along. He was still not used to having conversations and talking to others, no matter the species, and his habit of getting up and leaving when he was bored was rude, or so said Cat and Glen. Having manners was another thing he wasn’t used to at all.
Being a wolfkin man was harder than he thought it would be…being a wolf was easy. Hunt, run, play, sleep, repeat. No arguments and veiled frustrations, no seething resentments and fractured trust. There was dominance to determine in packs, but such events were about willpower and strength, and wolves settled in naturally and with no resentments once the hierarchy was determined. Laws did not exist; religion did not exist. There was a type of faith, but it was less defined, with no rules attached except that all creatures must eat, and some will be eaten. Some will lead, and some will follow. Each creature to its own nature, and none to say, or even think, that one way was not the right way, or that another was wrong. Such concepts did not exist. Barring illness, animals truly did not care.
Ghost headed up the mountain, away from the cabins and park center. The scents of other wolfkin faded away and the trees thinned out the higher he climbed. *Little wolf?*
*I am well, my mate,* Ghost whispered to Kane, his alpha’s worry a slight sting upon his conscience. He had left without a word, stripping his human clothing and running for the door, shredding frustrations as he shed his human form in a rush of silver-white energy. Kane had called after him, but thankfully his mate did not follow him. He needed some time alone.
Kane sent back a wordless mental caress of affection, receding from Ghost’s higher mind, their bond still intact in the recesses of his brain. Kane was an anchor, a touchstone, and was always with him.
Ghost continued to run, his body flowing over rocks and snow, the wind cutting through his thick gray coat in random gusts. His heart thudded with his race, blood roared through his ears, the sunny sky blinding him as he reached the scraggy peak.
Ghost took in the world once his eyes adjusted. Mountains dipped and swelled in all directions, black pines blocking out great swaths on steep inclines, the valleys dark even in the daylight, and he could see the mirror bright surface of the river as it wound through Baxter. Below him was the park center, and the wolves of Red Fern who kept the park. Red Fern maintained the illusion that only human caretakers for the state park resided in Baxter. Ghost had been here before, as a child, though he had never seen Baxter like this—a wilderness, a rare, almost untouched sanctuary for his kind. Humans came here only during the summer months, and every step they took was watched.
He was no longer alone. He was surrounded by hundreds of his kind, with more to come any day now, and his humans, Glen and Cat, were down there in the valley, too. Ghost was soulbonded and mated to a fine alpha, and he knew happiness. He wasn’t alone—so why did he feel like he was?
Ghost threw himself down on a wind-cleared boulder, head on his paws, and tried his best to let it all go—worry, doubt, frustration. Such emotions clouded his thoughts. They were stronger now that he could find his human form, every day he spent as a man instead of wolf changed him and the way he thought. He was thankful, yet part of him didn’t want to change. Such a short time with his kith and kin and Ghost was coming to believe the wolfkin were closer to humans than even they believed. While Cat and Glen were kind, smart, and accepting, Ghost knew most humans were not as special as his packmates. His humans went from believing him to be a rather strange and unusual wolf to accepting him as a sentient being that could use magic with very little trouble. Ghost was thankful for this—his humans were explorers of knowledge, and spent more time amongst wolves than their own species; Ghost had a feeling that was part of their ability to accept him and his kind as easily as they had. Other humans would not be so accepting—from his memories as a child of being hunted and his family being attacked by mercenaries to the times Ghost could accompany Cat into town and his exposure to humans that way, Ghost was sure most humans would react badly were they to ever meet a wolfkin and learn their nature.
The wolfkin he’d met since his return were either the paramount example of their kind—Kane and Andromeda—or were all too human in their fault
s, like Claire and Roman. He had a feeling most of the wolfkin fell in the middle, and a part of him mourned the loss of his naïve opinions of his own people. He was happy to be home, but he was also grieving.
Where were the wolfkin of myth and legend, the selfless hunters and guardians who held the wellbeing of their people above all things?
The sun warmed him despite the wind, and his eyes began to drift, heavy. He curled up tighter, tucked his nose under his bushy tail, giving into the desire to sleep. He dozed.
In his dream, he was no longer on the mountain. Darkness clouded his thoughts, indistinct figures moved in the shadows, voices were familiar but the names of those who spoke were just out of reach. There was a figure huddled, misery etched in every muscle and across his shadowed face, but Ghost thought he was young. His view changed, twisted, and in the darkness a small black and red mass glimmered, as if floating in water, bobbing gently in an unseen current. He tried to get closer, to see what the mysterious thing was, but all he could hear was a beating heart and the sound of crying. His heart ached, and he wished for the mountainside with its clean, cold wind.
The dream changed, and he settled, the disturbing images receding.
He lost track of time, the sun moving in the sky, and the angle was lower when he blinked himself awake. Fingers drifted through the fur on the top of his head, down his neck into the thick ridge that covered his shoulders, digging deep, scratching. Ghost shook his head, ears flapping, and stretched out under the kind fingers that chased nascent itches down his spine and back up. He grumbled, rolling to his back, clever fingers scratching his tummy. He almost fell off the boulder, flipping himself back to his stomach to regain his balance.
A deep, throaty chuckle made him lift his head to see Kane smiling down at him. “Enjoy your nap, little wolf?”
The wind lifted Kane’s long dark hair from his shoulders; his mate wore only a thin t-shirt and dark jeans with heavy boots at the end of long, thickly muscled legs. The sun gilded Kane’s features, darkening his already golden skin tone. His mate’s beauty stirred his heart and body, waking him completely. Ghost whimpered happily, and jumped up, licking Kane across the nose. “Hey, now! Watch it!”
Kane laughed, pushing him away. Ghost jumped from the rock, yipping in excitement. He could sense a darkening on the distant horizon, change was coming, but now, in this instant, he would banish worry with joy. Kane chased him through the snow, with the wind having scoured most of it away at this height they were well matched. Ghost was fast, whipping about in the smallest of margins, nipping at Kane’s heels then running away. Kane’s reach was long, and his fingers tugged on Ghost’s tail as he ran around his mate in a mad dash. Kane lobbed snowballs at him, Ghost caught them in his teeth, smashing the clumps to bits before running again.
Kane tackled him when he dared get too close, and they tumbled head over tail into a deep drift on the leeward side of a tall boulder, cut off from the wind. Ghost shivered in happiness when Kane wrapped his long arms around his neck and shoulders, squeezing him tight to his chest.
“You are glorious, little wolf,” Kane murmured in his ear, breath making his ear twitch. Ghost heaved a great sigh, and snuggled deeper into his mate’s embrace.
He sent back a wordless burst of emotion, full of every shred of happiness and joy he could muster at how it felt to be held and adored by his wonderful alpha mate. Kane was perfect. Surely, he knew that.
“Not so perfect,” Kane chuckled, sensing his thoughts. Kane kissed the top of his head. “I wish we could stay here all day, the world at our feet, but the Clan Leaders are going to be here soon. Caius wants us back at Andromeda’s.”
Ghost sat up and Changed, his form dissolving into a small storm of silver-white energy, rearranging his body at the barest of thoughts before reforming. He sat as a man on Kane’s lap, the cold air chilling his naked skin. Kane smiled, and cuddled him closer.
“I would yell at you for Changing without clothes on if I thought the cold bothered you at all,” Kane said with a small smile, dark eyes twinkling. “But watching you do that leaves me in awe.”
Ghost tilted his head curiously at his mate, thoughts divided between the approaching arrival of the wolfkin who would determine his mate’s fate and the stray thought that the way he Changed was unusual. “Does no other shaman Change as I do? I managed it when I was five—I can’t be the only one.”
“Not everyone had the great Shaman Gray Shadow show them to their wolf-form in such a manner either, little wolf,” Kane replied, brushing the back of his fingers along Ghost’s cheek. “Per Shaman River, the First Wolves Changed as you do, but until now, that was only considered legend. But enough history—we need to get back.”
Kane stood, even with Ghost on his lap, and Ghost let himself drop away landing on all fours in the snow, Kane laughing at his instantaneous Change back to wolf.
Kane took off at an easy lope, his long legs devouring the ground at a fast clip. Ghost ran at his mate’s side, content to match the speed Kane set in his human form. His mate was a big man, though more lean than bulky, his body one long line of carved muscle and predatory grace.
Instead of heading back to the cabin they shared, Kane diverted their path toward Andromeda’s cabin, the huge wooden structure on a small plateau that overlooked the majority of the park center. It was a good distance away from the other cabins, the closest building being the stone council house. Memories haunted the mountainside, Gray Shadow a near constant in Ghost’s recollections.
Kane knocked snow from his boots before opening the front door of Andromeda’s cabin and striding inside, holding the door for Ghost. He Changed as soon as he entered, grabbing a set of sweats from the short bench next to the door. Spare clothing was left beside doorways for wolfkin to use. Nudity wasn’t an issue for Ghost, though his mate didn’t like other wolfkin seeing his bare form, so he tugged on the pants, leaving off the top. He still disliked wearing a shirt, the sensation of anything around his neck making him twitch.
A gasp just down the hall made Ghost look up, and the elastic waistband of the pants snapped across his hip bones as a small beta female blushed and looked down at the floor. She was young, a girl on the cusp of adulthood, and she snuck a glance at Kane before darting off down the hall, her giggles echoing off the walls. Ghost laughed, enjoying the ruddy hue on his mate’s cheeks.
“I warned you about making Helen fall in love with you, Kane, though I may need to extend that warning to our young shaman,” a husky voice said, and Ghost smiled at Andromeda as she joined them in the foyer. The elegant female clan leader was dressed in her customary cotton sheath that covered her shoulders and fell to her knees, this time a soft dove gray that accentuated her glacial-blue eyes and blonde hair. Golden highlights shimmered in the light from the large front windows. “Nursing a youngling through a broken heart is difficult, no matter how many times I’ve done it.”
Her smile put aside any worries he might have that Andromeda was upset, and Ghost walked alongside Kane as she gestured them into the kitchen and attached dining room. Caius was there, sitting not at the head of the table but to the left, letting the White Wolf retain that honor. Ghost sat beside Kane across from his grandfather as others came into the room. Gerald, Ghost’s uncle and Caius’ only son remaining in Black Pine territory, came in with Sophia, Kane’s First Beta and Burke, Black Pine’s Speaker.
Sophia was short and trim, leanly muscled and one of the older wolves in the room. Shoulder length black hair and dark green-brown eyes complimented her golden skin, and she moved like the predator she was. From listening to the male wolfkin of Red Fern and the assorted wolves from Black Pine, Sophia was very attractive, though Ghost was confused by the measure applied to the females that determined beauty. He saw strength and capability, and admired the female beta, though his blood was not roused by her. Many of the male wolfkin present responded to Sophia to some degree, blood heating at an appreciat
ive level. All but Caius, Burke, and Kane sent Sophia heated glances, though no one said anything to her at all. Sophia was a dangerous creature, her gender was in no way a handicap. In fact, his Uncle Gerald watched her even now, though his eyes darted away from her face before she noticed. His uncle often stared at Sophia with an awed expression, his scent giving away his fascination.
Burke winked at Ghost when he sat down, and Ghost grinned back at the bigger alpha. Burke was Kane’s lieutenant, best friend, and served as the Speaker for Black Pine. When the day came that Kane was clan leader, Burke would be his second. Burke was built much like Kane, the two alphas alike enough to be mistaken as siblings. Burke smiled more often than Kane, and his emotions were easily discerned in his expressions and eyes. Burke was phenomenally powerful, his gift of command—what Ghost had heard Cat call telepathy—was so strong he could mentally communicate simultaneously with dozens of wolves, maintaining mind links to so many wolves that, if another alpha were to try, their mind would collapse under the strain. Burke’s ability made him Black Pine’s Speaker, a role that was rare, even among greater alphas. Only a handful of clans on the continent could boast having a wolfkin they could call a Speaker; Kane had admitted with a rueful smile that Burke was courted by other clan leaders on a regular basis at gatherings.
Gerald gave Ghost a tight, small smile, but the warmth in the dour alpha’s eyes made Ghost smile in return. The heavy cloud of depression and bitter anger than hovered over his uncle was dissipating, slowly but surely, Ghost knew it was due to Kane’s influence. Gerald had been given to Kane under his authority as a greater alpha and Black Pine’s tactical team leader, and the change in Gerald was obvious. Even as the lesser alpha scowled and grumbled, his step was lighter and he tried to talk instead of growl. The way he followed Kane’s lead, without hesitation or petulance, showed his change of allegiance quite clearly. Caius had said little to his own son, instead watching how his heir and his son interacted, a small frown furrowing his brow.
