by SJ Himes
“The blond is Royrick, clan leader of Red Wraith, one of the three clans directly descended from the First Wolves. He rules over all upper New York State, the northern half of Pennsylvania and up into Canada. His territory is as large as Black Pine’s, but maybe half of the same number of wolves. Royrick is also obscenely rich, and spoiled, too,” Sophia stated, glaring over her shoulder. Her expression was fierce, but there was a soft glow in her eyes that spoke of a deeper emotion. “He’s a brat, but not cruel. He’s likely to be the only one aside from Caius on the Tribunal who’ll actually listen to testimony without bias, though I’m not sure how his judgment may go.”
Burke coughed, and Kane smacked his shoulder.
“What?” Ghost asked, brows furrowed.
Sophia growled, punching Burke in the side, making the Speaker stumble back a step. Kane laughed and Burke sent Sophia an irritated snarl without any heat behind it. Sophia smiled innocently before she answered. “For a very brief interlude when I was young and foolish, I had a…relationship with Royrick. It was just after he became clan leader.”
“If you want to call a twenty-year affair brief, sure.” Burke snorted out a laugh. “You damn near mated with him. You broke up with him and went lone wolf for decades before landing in Black Pine.”
“Thankfully I came to my senses before that happened,” Sophia snapped, crossing her arms and growling under her breath. “It was several decades ago. I was not a lone wolf—I had a standing invitation from many clan leaders to join their clans, I just took my time deciding which one to choose. You weren’t even born yet, Burke, so shut it.”
Burke chuckled, Sophia narrowed her eyes at him, and he moved until he was hidden halfway behind Kane and Ghost. Gerald frowned at the cabin, then looked back to Sophia. He shuffled a bit closer to the short beta, his whole body radiating displeasure. Sophia gave Gerald a quick glance, letting him shuffle closer until he stood right at her shoulder. Sophia wrapped a small hand around Gerald’s elbow, her grip tight, and the lesser alpha relaxed, his frown falling away.
“And the last one?” Ghost asked, thinking of the stocky brute.
“Mercuriel, clan leader of Dread Claw, who rules over Vermont and New Hampshire, up over the border into Canada. Smaller territory than most, but his clan has almost as many wolves as Black Pine, far more than the other two clans. He is a brutal fighter—his wolf-form is almost as large as Kane’s, and probably heavier. Man’s built like a tank, and is one of the longest ruling clan leaders in the New World. He took control of Dread Claw the winter of the Great Exodus from the Old World. Fierce and ruthless, though he is a solid leader, respected by his people.” It was Gerald who answered this time, his brow lowered as he remembered. “I was a youngling back then, but the upheaval in leadership was severe enough to send ripples through all the other clans. Things settled down quickly though. He was brutal in assuming control from the former clan leader.”
“He reminds me of a brown bear,” Ghost murmured, and Kane chuckled.
“That he does, little wolf.”
“Will they judge us fairly?” Ghost asked the group, and the silence that answered him was clear enough in its meaning. “How could they not? Can’t they see the truth?”
“When it comes to politics, the truth is irrelevant,” Kane said calmly, rubbing Ghost’s arm. “Black Pine is vulnerable for the first time in centuries. They may be our allies, but we cannot count on them acting impartially.”
“We are threatened by greed?” Ghost growled, fed up. “We are not humans! Greed has no place in our nature. They would threaten our bond, blessed by our goddess, for a chance to topple Black Pine?”
“Most wolfkin play token service to our faith, buddy. Only the shamans hold true to the old ways, though even among the shamans the younger generations are less devout. The few older shamans remain faithful as ever, but our Goddess hasn’t moved amongst the larger population in a very long time.” Burke told him, chocolate brown eyes flashing gold for a heartbeat. “Faith is something many are lacking.”
“She is here, with us, every second,” Ghost disagreed. “Can’t you hear Her?”
“We aren’t shamans, little wolf,” Kane murmured, kissing the top of his head. “I can hear Her when She speaks to you, but it’s hard for me to hear Her on my own.”
The others looked at Kane like he’d just announced he was on fire. Sophia blinked at him, Burke made a gurgle and coughed, and Gerald appeared to be choking. Sophia recovered first, whispering, “You’ve heard Her?”
Kane nodded, then pressed his chin to the top of Ghost’s head, breath ruffling his hair. “She’s been speaking to Ghost since he came home.”
“Longer, I think,” Ghost said, recalling when his gifts started to manifest when his memories of being more than a wolf began to surface. “The wind carries a woman’s voice, sometimes clear, sometimes clouded, but She’s guided me every day. She spoke to me in a meadow of snow and ice, and gave me the way back to myself. She helped me find the courage to return to my human form.”
Kane stilled, his mate frozen. The others stared at Ghost, shifting nervously. Kane eventually thawed, and hugged Ghost to his chest, squeezing until he squeaked. Kane loosened his embrace and kissed him, deep and thorough, until his mind lost its ability to process thought and his cock wanted out to play.
Kane let him go, but kept him close. The milling crowd in front of the cabin was dissipating, the Black Pine wolves remaining behind as the Red Fern wolves returned to their homes. Ghost pressed his nose to Kane’s shirt, breathing in the scent of his mate. Kane was warmth and strength and affection, and Ghost felt an aching want in his bones, a want that demanded Kane. Ghost was riding a wave of desire when Kane and Burke both shifted, bracketing him between their bigger bodies.
Ghost tore his attention away from his mate, and looked up to see Heromindes, Clan Leader of Ashland, and his young kinsman Gabe walking from the shadows. The last Tribunal member was already here in Baxter, and Ghost had yet to speak directly to the greater alpha since he laid the charges against Kane.
Heromindes swept up the path, Gabe at his heels, the younger alpha’s head down and gaze averted. Heromindes appeared displeased, strides aggressive and quick, forcing Gabe to almost run to keep up. Ghost worried for his friend, though he was certain Heromindes wouldn’t hurt Gabe. The clan leader was Gabe’s cousin, and fiercely protective of his people. Gabe’s defiance in not returning to Worcester was surely one of the reasons why Heromindes was upset— the glare Heromindes sent towards Ghost and his group made it obvious what else angered the Ashland Clan Leader. Kane had accidentally used the Voice against Heromindes in Worcester during the raid that rescued Gabe and his family. Kane kept Heromindes from slaying the human slavers captured during the raid, and then returned the other alpha’s will to him as quickly as he stripped it. Kane tried to apologize, but Heromindes rebuffed his attempts.
Heromindes swept into the cabin. Gabe sent Ghost an anxious glance before following his kinsman through the entranceway, carefully shutting the front door with a soft click.
“Things are getting pretty heated in there, and fast,” Burke murmured, shifting so he could keep an eye on Kane and Ghost and the cabin. The Speaker tilted his head, obviously listening to the clan leaders inside the cabin. Ghost thought about trying to listen, but his attention kept drifting away.
Something…someone was coming. More than one.
Ghost took a step away from Kane, his focus set upon the gravel drive. He tilted his head, ears picking up the sound of tires. A vehicle broke through the darkness, headlights flashing across the front yard, and it parked behind the last vehicle of the clan leaders’ convoy. The silver SUV went silent as the engine died, and Ghost’s heart jumped in anticipation.
A whisper rose in the chill wind, coiling around his head and shoulders, caressing his face before it peeled away, leaving him with his heart in his throat and his hands curling
to fists.
Kane and Burke were talking, unashamedly eavesdropping on the clan leaders, as were the others in their group, discussing amongst themselves what they were hearing from the Tribunal members.
Ghost took another step away, the occupants of the new SUV opening their doors, stepping out.
It was as if the heavens dripped stars to earth, each soul-star within the shamans before him glowing and pulsing with their heartbeats. Golden yellows, gentle robin’s egg blues, vibrant moss greens and even a subtle purple and silver star flashed, nearly blinding him. Ghost blinked and dropped his Spiritsight, and he saw the four shamans that exited the vehicle and waited in the drive. All four of the strange men were staring back at him, and the one in front, the driver, took a couple steps forward and stopped. Ghost took a slow, even breath, and banished his nerves.
The shaman in front was a tall, lean brunet with pale skin and warm brown eyes, and his smile was kind. Ghost smiled back, certain he knew this shaman. The wolfkin male’s hesitant smile grew into a wide grin, and he jogged forward, arms open, and Ghost had a flash of insight that brought joy to his heart.
Michael.
In his memories of Gray Shadow, there was always Michael—his grandfather’s last apprentice. Gray Shadow taught Michael for years before Ghost was born—he learnt from sitting in on Michael’s lessons. His first memories ever were listening to Gray Shadow teach Michael about his gifts, while little Luca yearned to be a shaman, too. Michael was old enough to be Luca’s father, but he’d counted the young shaman as his very first friend.
“Michael!” Ghost cried out, sprinting across the snow. Kane shouted behind him, and his mate followed him.
Ghost threw himself into Michael’s embrace, the taller shaman hugging him close and laughing. Ghost buried his nose in Michael’s hair and breathed him in, memories welling up in his mind. Countless days spent learning together, Michael patiently letting him sit in his lap, reading wolfkin histories and the Law, evenings when Michael would babysit Luca and his littermates when Marla and Josiah would go out.
“You’re alive, you’re alive!” Michael crowed, swinging him around like he had when Ghost was a cub. Ghost laughed, so happy tears ran down his cheeks, face hurting from smiling so wide. Michael put him down and hugged him so tightly Ghost squeaked as air was forced from his lungs, and Michael chuckled before easing his embrace.
“Little wolf?” Kane asked, and a big hand gripped his shoulder. Kane didn’t pull him away, but the alpha’s disquiet and wariness at his affectionate greeting came across their bond.
Michael chuckled, and gently eased back, though he still held Ghost close. Kane gave Michael a tight smile and a short nod, his hand on Ghost all but screaming his claim.
“Shaman Michael,” Kane said, words cool but polite. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Alpha Kane,” Michael replied with a grin, nodding. “It’s good to see you again as well. I wish the circumstances were better, but I’m glad to be here regardless.”
“What do you mean?” Ghost asked, tipping his head back to see Michael’s face better. Michael bit his lip, brows furrowing, and he sighed. Face clearing, Michael looked over his shoulder at his companions before turning back to Ghost and Kane.
“We were asked to attend a Tribunal by our respective clan leaders,” Michael said, meeting Kane’s regard. Knowledge lit his mate’s dark eyes as Ghost tensed in realization, and Michael nodded, confirming his fears. “Yours. We are to stand as witnesses, to attest to the validity of your bond with Luca, and to sever it if it’s been determined to be a forced union. The alphas will handle Kane’s punishment if he’s found guilty.”
Angry, Ghost opened his mouth to demand the shamans test their soulbond now to stop this foolish Tribunal, but a shout from the front of the cabin interrupted him and drew his attention. The greater alphas that made up the clan leaders’ honor guard surrounded the Black Pine wolves. Sophia looked ready to kill, Gerald was on the ground with a boot in the middle of his back holding him down, and Burke had his arms restrained by two big wolfkin males.
Kane pulled on Ghost, but Michael held him tighter and spun away, yanking Kane’s hand from Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost growled, and tried to get free, kicking. Kane roared, and leapt for Michael, but Kane disappeared under the weight of several bodies. Ghost cried out, shocked immobile, and Michael dragged him away as half a dozen greater alphas restrained Kane, forcing his mate to his knees in the snow.
“Kane!” Ghost cried, reaching out for his mate. Electricity hissed and spat around his fingers, Ghost’s anger and fear spurring his gifts. “Let him go!”
“No!” Michael restrained Ghost, and left him dumbfounded when the older shaman grabbed Ghost’s hand, and snuffed the bolts of energy curling around his fingers. Ghost gaped, beyond startled, and found himself picked up off his feet and carried away.
Ghost snarled, his wilder side rising, fury at his mate’s treatment bringing his feral nature to the fore. Michael said something, shouting, trying to keep Ghost restrained as he fought. Hands came to rest on his face and shoulders, avoiding his elongated fangs and curled claws.
“Kane!” Ghost screamed, and he lost sight of his mate as the shamans surrounded him, separating him from the chaos.
Uncertain Futures
Kane cursed as his arms were yanked behind his back. Rough hands put shackles on his wrists, and his feet were restrained with steel and silver bands. He spat out a mouthful of dirty snow, growling as his attackers backed away. He searched for Ghost, but the shamans had quickly taken his little wolf away, Ghost’s enraged snarls and screams leaving Kane afraid for his mate.
“Move out of my way!” Caius snapped, the crowd around Kane cleared out, letting his clan leader through. Kane bit his tongue is surprise when Caius knelt in the snow next to him, brushing his long hair back from his face. Caius was angry, so angry Kane could feel his alpha’s fingers shaking before Caius regained himself.
Growls and harsh whispers rose from the pack of greater alphas around Kane, but no one stopped Caius as his clan leader helped him to sit up out of the snow, legs under him. He was already soaking wet, though the cold wasn’t bothersome. Wet jeans were annoying, and his arms ached from being yanked behind his back.
Kane looked up when a shadow moved in his periphery. Andromeda stood over them, hair raised on the wind, eyes glowing a brilliant blue. She took a few more steps until she was right next to Kane, and put a slim hand on his shoulder. The greater alphas who ambushed him took a few steps back, warily eyeing the formidable beta.
“The Tribunal members decided the charges warrant incarceration until your trial, youngling,” she said, and her fingers tightened on his shoulder until he wanted to wince. She was cautioning him to be quiet. Just past her, Kane saw the other Tribunal members, the clan leaders watching impassively from the front porch of her cabin.
*Say nothing, not even in your defense,* Caius told him, so soft in his mind that the others about them wouldn’t be able to overhear. Kane nodded discreetly, and breathed in and out a couple times to ease his racing pulse.
*Ghost? Is he okay?* Kane was worried for his mate. Ghost’s presence in the back of his mind was a riot of anger and fear. There was no blast of lightning and scent of burning flesh, so the surge of energy Kane had sensed in Ghost was stopped before his mate’s fears overrode common sense. He sent a burst of calm and affection, and hoped Ghost was in a state to feel him through their bond.
*Ghost is unharmed. The shamans could have done that better, that was poorly thought out. They are attempting to calm him now,* Caius replied, one big hand going under Kane’s upper arm. His clan leader lifted Kane to his feet, and when he was steady, Caius knelt down and unshackled his feet so he could walk. Growls came from the crowd, but none contradicted the clan leader’s actions.
“The accused is to be locked away until his Trial,” Julian declared, loudly enough to b
e heard over the wind. “The afflicted youngling is to be kept separated until the shamans’ testimony to his mental state and the nature of the bond.”
Gerald and Burke snarled, and Kane met Burke’s eyes across the distance between them. He shook his head once, a short motion, and Burke settled back, though he shook off the stranger’s holding his arms. Sophia went to Gerald, and helped him to his feet, brushing snow off his shirt and pants.
“I will see him to the accused’s cell,” Andromeda said calmly, gloriously indifferent to the brittle and hostile tension. Caius nodded, and squeezed Kane’s arm once before stepping back. Andromeda stepped to Kane’s side, and gestured for him to follow. “Come along, youngling. It’s not far.”
Burke took a step, as if to follow them, but Sophia reached out and took his arm, yanking him back. *Burke—take care of Ghost!* Kane held his best friend’s gaze until the crowd got in the way. He had no doubt that Burke heard his thought, and his best friend gave him a tight smile and a short nod, reassuring him. Kane took a deep breath and followed the White Wolf into the woods.
The woods were dark, little light from the rising moon and stars breaking through the boughs, the crunch of snow under their feet loud. The pines hung heavy with snow and ice, the recent storm having dropped a significant amount. The pines grew taller and denser as they walked on, Andromeda leading the way through the woods. An old path was cut through the dormant undergrowth, easier to see with the flush of green receded in the depth of winter.
Kane had explored very little of the park around Andromeda’s cabin; her territory was, while not off limits, clearly defined by her scent and it left most wolfkin wary of encroaching on her land. She held sway over all of Baxter, but the woods around her cabin were private space, so Kane had never been to this part of the plateau.
Figures rose out of the darkness, his wolfkin eyes able to discern the tall monoliths of stone sentinels nestled amongst the trees. Pines and oak curled around carved stone, the trees adapting to the foreign objects placed by wolfkin hands hundreds of years prior. The ancient pictographs of wolves as big as men and the vaguely female outline of a radiant moon peeked out past lichen and dirt. The air grew colder, though less oppressive—it felt as if the sky opened above him, and he was about to fall into the abyss. Andromeda’s hand on his arm tightened, anchoring him, reminding him he was walking, feet firm on the ground.
