Night Born

by Godiva Glenn

  Squinting into the morning sun, Kyra stepped from her trailer. The silver cylinder-shaped monstrosity stood out in the woods and sat miles away from any other housing. Her mother had been kind enough to gift her the small dwelling, though it hardly eased the sting of having to leave her childhood home.

  There was a time that Kyra thought her parents would give in and take her back, but they had chosen to throw her out and she wasn’t going to beg them to change their minds. Or rather, she had begged them several times in the first few months and then she grew more respect for herself and less for them.

  No law made them abandon their only daughter, only pride. Kyra had no tolerance for pride, not anymore.

  She pulled the hood of her favorite green sweatshirt up and started to jog down the road towards town. Their land butted right up against a stretch of farm, separated by the fences that held roaming cows, horses, and a few goats. Since she couldn’t rely on anyone but herself, she’d become accustomed to shopping and interacting with their neighboring humans.

  A few of the men had even gifted her with chickens in the past—some odd human courting ritual, she assumed. Anything to wet their dicks, but she didn’t trade sex for poultry no matter how hungry she was.

  “Kyra,” a soft voice said. Not a greeting, but a neutral acknowledgment.

  She skid to a stop on the loose dirt and turned. She’d smelled someone nearby but hadn’t thought twice about it. It wasn’t strange for the pack to be crisscrossing all over the land.

  A face she recognized, Laurel, crossed the trail behind Kyra, looking away slightly as if she didn’t want their eyes to meet completely. Her hands tugged idly on the bottom of her jacket, a habit she’d had since they were kids. Then again, Laurel had one of those faces and matching dispositions that always made her appear younger than she was.

  “Hey,” Kyra greeted her.

  Though Laurel was her best friend once, they hadn’t spoken in months. And even then, it was like this. Short. Empty. Small talk that generally left something to be desired. It was a far cry from the days when they were inseparable. The days when they were like sisters.

  Laurel blew the long blonde bangs from her grey-blue eyes and lifted her chin towards the path. “Heading to town?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hanging out with the humans?”

  Kyra pursed her lips. Even if Laurel’s tone had been completely devoid of emotion, the words bore the hypocrisy of the pack. They didn’t want her around, but they looked down on her for wanting to escape their criticism.

  “I need some things.”

  Laurel nodded. “Alright.”

  She turned and walked down the trail away from Kyra, leaving her to ponder over the strange moment.

  Not everyone in the pack ignored Kyra completely, but communication was rare. She still managed to catch gossip and news, but mostly by overhearing. She knew Laurel had found a mate last year, and that they were happy, but it had been depressing to find it out months after the fact and from a random source.

  But it’s not like I could expect her to have given me the news herself, so we could celebrate. Kyra wasn’t anyone’s friend anymore. She had one foot out the door and the ancestors appeared to have neglected her, so the pack saw no point in trying to connect.

  Deep down, she suspected it was fear. No one wanted her around as a sign that their existence wasn’t eternal. Lupine were supposed to be survivors. A lupine without form was a conundrum. Trapped in human form, and though her wolf existed, it slumbered.

  Once Laurel had become a small blur on the horizon, Kyra resumed her jog, emptying her mind of the occurrence. A trip to town was a ten-minute run for most lupine, and Kyra would make it there in under half an hour at her easy pace.

  The town was small and welcoming, and the smiling faces of handsome human males had become the high point of her life. There were plenty of sweet young men who would flirt with her and make her feel like she mattered. There were young women who she could chat with about clothing or desserts or whatever else—Kyra wasn’t picky about conversations as long as she was welcome to them. The human world was a sanctuary, as long as she didn’t think about how it would someday be her only home.

  * * * *

  Since Kyra hadn’t needed anything, she’d left the town with only a small bag of locally grown red apples and a rose gold scarf she thought played up the warmth in her hazel eyes. The color was a trend now, she’d been advised by the salesperson.

  Walking home with her eyes on the sky and distant mountains, she took her time. While in town she’d discovered that the new members to their pack hadn’t gone unnoticed. The local humans had a few guesses as to why there were people living in the woods, and mostly they didn’t mind it, but the increase in population made them more curious than usual.

  The longtime understanding was that Kyra’s pack was a community of preppers—people prepared for the end of the world. It was an explanation as good as any other, but in this case, it made the town wonder what the strange group was up to. What could cause a sudden influx of preppers? That was the question Kyra had deflected all morning.

  Rising suspicion wasn’t good for the pack. A pack could only be as large as the land containing it—and they were approaching the limit of sustainability—but more importantly, the pack had to escape attention. Maybe someday the humans would be alright to learn that magic was real and that the lupine existed—not as scary beasts but as quiet neighbors—but today wasn’t that day, and tomorrow didn’t look great either.

  The secret had to be kept, and the pack had to make sure they weren’t the ones to blow their cover or jeopardize their safety. A larger pack meant more wolves running the forest, after all, and humans rarely took well to such sightings.

  Even shut-off from the majority of pack knowledge, Kyra had learned that their alpha, Ian, had been meeting with the elders regularly to discuss how they would handle a split. She suspected that they’d already found a new section of land, far enough away that the new pack would have independence, and more importantly, wouldn’t be encroaching on another existing pack’s territory.

  The thought made Kyra pause and look towards the horizon. Whispers said that they would head towards the mountains, and the split would only consist of certain undesirable clans. It seemed like something Ian would approve, to use a pack split to get rid of those bloodlines he thought weren’t helping the Sarka pack. Or even if not Ian, the collective elders had a fairly obvious bias against what they considered mutts.

  Not that it concerns me. She kicked a rock from her path and continued on her way. Her interest in the imminent split came from simple curiosity. When the pack split, a new alpha would be chosen to lead the splintered pack. They’d be in charge of organizing the journey to settle another stretch of land, and it would be on them to confirm they were far enough from here to avoid suspicion and to give the new pack room to become their own entity.

  Which meant, in a nutshell, Kyra’s family and former friends could be scattered. Because the Sarka pack equated lineage to power and wisdom, as the eldest son of the Fekete line, Mikos’s brother Viktor was the next in line to be alpha.

  Yet he didn’t have a mate. It was a fairly standard agreement that alphas have a mate to prove themselves capable of being a role model. It seemed silly to her, not that her opinion mattered, but one could be backed by the ancestors without having found a mate—the two matters weren’t related.

  However, it seemed more conspicuous that for whatever reason, Viktor hadn’t even courted a female. Ever. That would cast doubt on his eligibility to lead his own pack, on the grounds that he was more or less stating that none of the females were good enough for him. Or that he had no interest in family, which was possibly a worse offense.

  Kyra shifted her bag in her arms as she came close to her home. If she had any say in the matter, she wouldn’t follow Viktor. He was a mystery, and mysteries didn’t make for good alphas. It didn’t matter to her that he was single, only that he was a
n enigma when it came to what he believed in.

  She maneuvered her door open and set the apples on her tiny kitchen table. Polishing one on her sleeve she thought of Mikos again, not that he was ever far from the front of her mind.

  Leadership would most likely fall to him, though there was the same issue. No mate. Not that he’d be that way much longer.

  She’d be gone soon enough but couldn’t imagine Mikos leaving the area. If that happened, she couldn’t even hope to glimpse him ever again. The mountains would suit him. A male like him needed a wilder land to fit his spirit.

  But if he stayed, there was at least the chance that she’d see him in town if he ever ran errands.

  Damn, I’m pathetic.

  * * * *

  Hands clutching prickly bark, Kyra peered around a tall fir. Through the trees and shadows, her pack moved and spoke quietly. The moon would come soon and call them to their wolf forms. Loose groups formed. Even before their recent additions, their pack had grown too large to hunt as one. Now they branched apart, led by couples and elders. Sometimes smaller groups of friends ran together, absorbing the night and chasing the small game that occupied the land.

  Those too young to turn would be back at the pack’s center. It was up to the teens to watch the children on these nights. After spending time with the humans, Kyra marveled at the difference of responsibility. The lupine youth were fully capable of being rowdy, and she had been no different at that age, but being in charge of little siblings and packmates was taken seriously by all.

  Kyra had avoided visiting the pack around full moon nights before, but her encounter with Mikos had left her curious. She wanted to see him again, even if it was only to watch him change. Clinging to trees, she lingered on the edge of where she was likely to be noticeable. Her parents spotted her regardless. An indifferent glance came from her father, pity from her mother. They took turns blaming each other’s genetics for Kyra’s defect but joined together in shunning her all the same.

  Do they even realize I no longer care?

  She shook away the chill of the air and stares from cousins and former friends that now caught her. Mikos stood tall in the distance, once more chatting with Viktor. Both males wore stern expressions. They appeared to be quietly arguing, and she briefly wondered if it was about her, but the notion seemed vain and she chided herself for even considering such nonsense. More pack-mates joined them, and their discussion seemed to cool.

  A part of her wanted Mikos to look her way and see her. She wanted to catch him unaware and see his reaction when he wasn’t protecting his every expression. She’d worn a pretty cropped sweater and tight jeans, just in case.

  Twigs snapped to Kyra’s left and she turned, catching the whiff of someone unfamiliar.

  “Eparatos,” a voice hissed. The ancient word referenced Kyra’s status. Cursed to never find her true self. The speaker walked forward, emerald green eyes blazing with an outline of lupine gold. Sierra. She stared Kyra down before looking to the gathered pack across the way. “Watching him, are we? Wanting what we can’t have?”

  Kyra huffed and turned to leave. Sierra was new to the pack, part of the small group recently adopted into the Sarkas after losing their own land.

  “I was just leaving,” Kyra announced.

  “Perhaps you should do that. Go and stop haunting Mikos. You corrupt his mind and make him weak.”

  Kyra rolled her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at the pretty but rude young wolf. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I? Everyone speaks about it. The coupling that was supposed to produce the perfect lupine. Except you were a dud.” Sierra tilted her head and looked Kyra up and down with an unimpressed expression. “Let him go. He’s honorable, too honorable to move on.”

  It was no surprise that Sierra wanted what every other female wanted, but none of the rest had approached her so rudely. The tone and ego of it all shook Kyra’s calm away. “You think he would ever choose you? Your lineage is garbage. Your heritage is full of gamblers and traitors. I’d be surprised if any of the males would tie themselves to you.”

  “The Lowe pedigree transcends the errors of a few,” Sierra growled. “We made the mistake of remaining with the Edon pack for too long. Loyalty led my ancestors to stupidity—”

  “I’m not interested in your history.” Kyra yawned into her palm and walked away.

  “You should be,” Sierra called after her.

  Whatever. Sierra was no different from any of the dozen or so females throwing themselves at Mikos. There was no lack of attractive flesh among the pack, all eager to tout their ancestry as if it mattered. Kyra used to be one of them, but now she understood that blood was blood.

  She expertly made her way through the maze of trees that she knew like the back of her hand. Over a thousand acres of land that she’d walked over and studied and fallen in love with. Upturned roots that caught her feet and taught her to be aware. Branches that dipped low and made her appreciate her short stature. Clearings where she could bathe in the sun or moon and read or cry or whatever on Earth she needed to do.

  Pack life had bored her when she was a child, but age taught her appreciation for her simple life. She missed it already. Only two more moons to prove myself.

  * * * *

  Walking circles around the gleaming eyesore of her trailer, Kyra attempted to quell her annoyance. As easily as she’d dismissed the notion earlier, it had come back with a vengeance.

  Being alone meant plenty of time to think, and those thoughts could often turn to obsession when there was no other distraction. She was particularly vulnerable to this on full moons since the usual hum of the ancestor’s magic was at its lowest.

  She should have picked up a new book while she was in town so she could spend the night reading, but instead, she’d be playing the fun game of ‘who will Mikos choose.’

  Reason told her that he would never settle for Sierra because he was serious, and she was obnoxious. But then again, she was lovely, and she was different. Perhaps her strangeness would be mystery in his eyes. Something shiny and new. Of course, his parents would probably never approve of him straying that far in terms of noble blood.

  The insults Kyra had hurtled at Sierra had come from anger, but in reality, she could understand Sierra’s vehemence. There were packs that didn’t care about bloodlines, but the Sarka pack wasn’t one of them. Growing up, Kyra thought it made sense.

  In reality, she couldn’t get behind the logic of placing the strength of character, loyalty, wisdom, and any other number of qualifiers behind the assumed purity of one’s blood.

  With the Sarka’s, Sierra would have a tough time finding a mate, and since she couldn’t change her genealogy, she hyped her aggressiveness. She had a chip on her shoulder and wasn’t afraid of everyone noticing it. There was a chance some male would see her as a challenge and court her for that reason alone. Many lupine males innately enjoyed asserting dominance over strong females.

  Sierra’s harsh edges could win someone... or perhaps she wasn’t clever, simply acting out of anger. Equally understandable.

  Solitude’s turned me into a bleeding heart.

  Kyra yanked open the trailer door, but a strange awareness kept her from entering, a sense that told her something wasn’t right. Pushing the sleeves up on her sweater, she turned and scanned the familiar darkness around her home. Growls simmered in the shadows and crawled forward on the wind. She shivered but stood her ground. Weaker members would have succumbed to the moon already. Though that didn’t explain why they would come around here.

  Sierra stepped forward, flanked by two silver wolves. Great. The bitch and her friends. Kyra sighed.

  “Can I help you?”

  “We’ve come to teach you respect, eparatos,” Sierra said sweetly. As she spoke, her teeth sharpened, and eyes grew large and golden. “If you won’t leave by your own shame, the pack must teach you humility. Your place.”

  “My place? This is my land. It
was my home long before you came along, or have you forgotten?” Rage heated Kyra’s blood, and her hands twitched, anxious. It was poor taste for Sierra to threaten Kyra with her wolf form, and the elders would never stand for it. The lupine were not mindless animals. They were clever and respectful. Sierra was risking her place within the pack with this display.

  “I meant your place on the food chain. I’ll give you a hint—I’m on top.”

  “Weren’t you lecturing me on your noble ways earlier? And now you threaten me at my home, and flaunt your form?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m merely here to watch over my pack,” Sierra said calmly, glancing between the two wolves beside her. “The wolf moon has its dangers. Young lupine sometimes make mistakes. They get lost to the spirit of the hunt. They don’t recognize a human as anything different than a deer.”

  Kyra froze. “There are no humans here.”

  Sierra lifted her face and sniffed the air with exaggerated motions. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the amount of fear and inferiority flavoring the air.”

  Glancing around, Kyra looked for an escape. Surely Sierra didn’t think to kill her in cold blood, using her friends as a flimsy cover. If they were untested, they should be with anyone but Sierra. They should have been far from here, learning from their families how to run with the moon. They should have been chasing rabbits.

  She sought to reason with the trio. “Why are you this fixated on me?”

  Sierra shrugged and held a hand high into the air. The slender fingers grew long and sprouted cinnamon fur. The palm shrunk and shriveled, pulling fingertips in until a large, clawed paw remained. “I don’t need to explain myself to the likes of you. You can’t be reasoned with. You don’t understand respect.”

  Kyra’s head swam. She’s serious. And not just serious, but insane. The moon would pull Sierra to the earth in time, but for now, she seemed intent on attacking Kyra in lupine form. Can’t outrun them. Can’t hide. Panic floated above all else, and she leaped from the small stairs to her trailer and sped away.