by TJ Klune
I built the pyre myself. The others wanted to help, but I told them no. Gavin stayed with me, watching me with a knowing gaze. He sat with his back against a tree, his breath streaming out from his nose and mouth in a white cloud.
Will didn’t have family. He was the last of his line.
But that didn’t matter.
He had us.
He had me.
Once the pyre was finished, I was sweating. My back hurt, as did my heart.
Gavin came to me then.
He said, “Good man. Will.”
I wiped my eyes. “He was.”
He nodded toward the pyre. “This is for important people.”
“Yes.”
“Kings and queens. Alphas. Shannon. She had one too.”
“Yes.”
He said, “Will not a wolf. Not a king. Not a queen. Not an Alpha. But still important.” He wrapped his arms around me as I started shaking. I told myself it was from the cold.
“Is it enough?” I croaked out.
“Think so,” Gavin whispered. “Send him back to the moon. Run with wolves.” He laughed quietly. “Shape-shifters. That’s what he always said.”
I carried Will. He was wrapped in a white blanket. The clouds were gray, and snow was coming. I led the procession through the forest to the clearing. My pack was behind me. The people of Green Creek followed, their heads bowed.
I laid him on the pyre as gently as I could, taking care with his head.
I stood above him for a long time, trying to find the words. It felt too big, too important.
Eventually I said, “He was my friend. And he was pack. He gave himself to protect those he loved. I will never forget him.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek through the sheet.
Joe lit the fire. I couldn’t do it.
The wood was a little wet, but it caught.
I stepped back.
The pyre burned.
Will burned.
And as the fire reached up toward the sky, it began to snow. I told myself it was a sign.
I turned my face toward the sky.
I howled.
The others joined in.
As our voices rose, as the smoke mingled with the falling snow, we sang our friend home.
ROBERT LIVINGSTONE WASN’T GIVEN the same honor.
He didn’t deserve it.
And yet….
“He was our father,” Gordo said. He looked as exhausted as we all felt, but he seemed lighter somehow, even more so than after he and Mark found each other again. He was unshackled. Free. “Regardless of what else he did, I can’t ignore that.” He looked to the only other person who should have had any say in the matter.
Gavin looked down at his hands. “I can’t forget. Or forgive.”
“I know,” Gordo said. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “And I don’t know that you have to. I could have….” He shook his head. “I could have been like him. Followed the same path.”
Gavin jerked his head up, eyes flashing orange. “You’re not. You’re not bad. Not like him. Good Gordo.” Then, “Mostly.”
Gordo snorted. “Thanks. I think.” He sighed. “What do you want to do?”
In the end, it was simple. Deep in the forest, they found one of the oldest trees that grew in our territory. They dug the hole themselves. It wasn’t like it was with Will. There were no pretty words, no songs to be sung. It was dirt and sweat. No one cried. As Livingstone was lowered into the ground, the rest of us stood at a distance, watching Gavin and Gordo stand above their father’s body.
Gavin bent over, scooping up a handful of dirt from the ground. He held it over the open grave, let it sprinkle down onto his father’s body. He kissed Gordo on the cheek but didn’t leave him. He waited.
Gordo stood above his father for a long time.
Then he said, “You tried. You really tried, didn’t you? But you failed.” His chest hitched. Mark started forward, but Mom stopped him, shaking her head. “You failed,” Gordo said again, voice hoarse.
We let the brothers go. They walked away through the trees, side by side.
Rico and Chris and Tanner filled in the grave.
Later, much later, when the events of that winter were nothing but memories, I went back.
I stopped in front of the tree and stared down at where Livingstone lay.
From the earth, wild roses had bloomed, covering his final resting place.
The petals were thick, the vines tough.
The thorns sharp.
CASWELL WAS IN AN UPROAR.
They’d felt the moment their Alpha had left them.
They thought he’d died.
They were confused. Scared. I couldn’t fault them for that.
They looked to Joe. “Show us,” they begged. “Show us.”
He did. His orange eyes. And he said, “It was always supposed to be me. Ever since I was born, I was told I was going to be this person. This figure. This Alpha. I’m sorry if you think I’ve failed you. I’m sorry if you don’t understand. I don’t expect you to. But you are never alone. You will never be alone. This line of kings and queens, of wolves and men, it was never the be-all and end-all. There will be others. I promise. I am here for you. We all are.”
“We don’t have an Alpha!” a man in the crowd shouted. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Joe nodded. “This is a new future, and one you can decide for yourselves. In my time as the Alpha of all, I learned more than I had in all the years before. We’ll find someone to take my place. Someone who loves you as much as I do. My father told me something once. He said that the measure of an Alpha is not the power they wield, but the strength of their pack behind them. And you are strong. I know that now more than ever.”
IT WAS SPRING WHEN the garage reopened.
We all gathered on Main Street, the scent of new brickwork and paint strong and pungent. The buildings that had been damaged in the fight against Livingstone and his wolves had all been repaired, but it’d taken longer for the garage.
I found Gavin in our room beforehand, standing in front of the mirror, scowling at his reflection. His hair was a little longer, and he was starting to fill out, losing the gaunt, haunted look on his face. But the scowl was familiar. I hoped it always would be.
“There you are,” I said. “We gotta get going. Can’t be late.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I’m almost done.”
I went behind him, settling my hands on his hips, hooking my chin over his shoulder. He leaned his head back and sighed. I bit back a growl at the sight of my mark on his skin.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, watching him in the mirror.
He was quiet for a moment. Then, “Big. Today feels big.” Words were coming easier to him. He was still prickly and blunt, but more and more of him was coming out. I couldn’t wait to see all that he was.
I shrugged. “That’s because it is. Your first day on the job. Gainful employment and all that. I’m a city employee, so my salary sucks. You’ll need to support me. Fair warning, I have very expensive tastes.”
He rolled his eyes. “You sure don’t dress like it.”
What a dick. Of course he’d be mine. “You really need to stop listening to Rico. I’m a humble man.”
“Bullshit. You’re a stupid man.”
“Stupid Carter,” I teased him.
“Exactly. Stupid Carter.”
I waited, giving him time to say what he needed to. I wasn’t usually a patient person, but I was learning to be because of him.
He said, “Gordo wants me there.”
“He does.”
“And so do the guys.”
“They do.”
He said, “I… I’m scared. That it’s not real. That I’m still in the cave with him. That he’s taking from me, making me see what I want to see in my secret heart just to keep me docile.”
This was a gift. A dark one, to be sure, but a gift all the same. He rarely talked about what happened with him and Livingstone
in the year they were gone. I didn’t want to push too hard, but I thought he needed to get it out. “Is that what it was? Like a dream?”
He nodded. “Hazy. The edges were blurred. You were there. Ghost. Haunting me. I wished you were real. Always.”
“I am,” I told him roughly. “I swear it. Listen, Gavin. Listen.”
He turned around. I raised his hands to my chest, settling them above my heart.
He was in awe of me. I wanted more than anything to deserve it.
I said, “Thump, thump, thump.”
And oh, how he smiled. “Thump, thump, thump.”
He kissed me.
It felt green.
He laughed when I pinched his bare hip. “Good?”
“Better,” he said. He pulled his pink work shirt over his shoulders, fumbling with the buttons on the front. He batted my hands away when I tried to help. He got it eventually. “How do I look?”
Five letters were stitched in black across his chest.
Gavin.
I looked in the mirror to see the reflection of his back. My eyes widened at the name. “Is that…?”
“Gordo’s idea,” he said. “She doesn’t know.”
Meaning my mother. “Why?”
He said, “Because it’s who we are.”
When we arrived at the garage, a crowd had gathered, filling the streets. Excitement filled the air, and people were laughing as they milled about. A ribbon stretched across the front doors of the garage. Someone had found a pair of comically oversize scissors, and as the mayor of Green Creek, I was expected to give a speech about reunification and prosperity and blah, blah, blah. I didn’t care about that. I only had eyes for my mother.
She seemed surprised when Gordo took her by the hand, pulling her toward the front of the garage. The people cheered, her pack the loudest of them all, and she blushed as she ducked her head. “What’s this?” she asked.
Gordo said, “I love you.”
She touched his cheek. “I know. I love you too.”
He took a deep breath. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
He led her to the sign above the garage. It was covered with a tarp, a long rope dangling onto the ground. He told her she should be the one to pull the tarp down.
She looked at him for a long moment before nodding. She pulled the rope as hard as she could. The tarp slid off the new sign and fluttered toward the ground.
Silence fell over Green Creek as we waited.
The queen looked up toward the sign.
The garage had been renamed.
The sign read: BENNETTS’.
She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as her eyes filled.
Gordo looked uncharacteristically nervous. He said, “For a long time I was angry. Lost. Confused. I didn’t understand. But I am what I am because of you. All that I have, everything that I can call mine, it’s because of the wolves. We fought. We bled. We raged. And in the end, we found our way back to each other. I’m not a great man. I make mistakes. I’ve hurt more people than I care to remember. But this is what I want. It’s not much, I know. And if you want me to change it, I—”
Whatever else he would have said was lost when my mother launched herself at him. He caught her, eyes widening. She was crying, she was laughing, and though there was a tinge of blue that I thought would never leave, her happiness was bright and vital.
She said, “Gordo, don’t you see? It’s everything. It’s everything.”
Gordo relaxed, a look of relief on his face. “Really?”
“Yes. You silly man. You silly, wonderful man. How I cherish you.” She laughed again. It sounded like bells.
I watched as the guys from the shop approached her, all turning away from her so she could see our name on the backs of their work shirts. She exclaimed over all of them, Gavin most of all. He grinned at her in that squinty way he had.
Gordo grumbled when I handed him the scissors. “This is dumb.”
“Probably. But give them what they want anyway.”
He did. The crowd cheered when he cut the ribbon.
Bennetts’ was open for business.
AT THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER, I walked with my brothers through the forest. It was just the three of us. Gavin had left with Mom earlier that morning, refusing to tell me where they were going. No matter what I did, he kept his mouth shut, glaring at me each time I asked. Mom was the same way, telling me I’d know when it was time. “You worry too much,” she told me. “Trust me. Trust him.”
I did.
So I let them go.
Kelly and Joe found me. Kelly said I was moping. I told him to shut up. Joe laughed at me, and I tackled him. He managed to get away, and I chased after him through the trees. I caught up with him eventually, Kelly close behind us. He yelped when I put him in a headlock, demanding he respect me because I was the oldest.
“That’s not how it works!” he growled at me.
Fucking liar. Of course it was.
But I let him go.
He scowled at me.
I ignored him.
Kelly said, “It’s different.”
We looked over at him.
He was pressing his hand against the trunk of an old elm.
“What is?” Joe asked.
“The territory. Can you feel it?”
We went to him. We both put our hands on the tree. It felt… lighter, somehow. Bigger. More. I pulled my hand back, and my brothers turned to me.
“It knows,” I said finally. “What we’ve done. All that we’ve given.”
“Is it enough?” Kelly asked.
“I hope so.” Then, “Do you think he’s still here?”
They knew who I meant. “I don’t think they’re ever truly gone,” Joe said quietly. “Not completely.”
We went deeper into the forest.
Joe told us about an Alpha, a woman who was kind and just. Her name was Sophie, which Ox said meant wisdom. We’d met her and her pack years before in Glacier National Park when we’d been chasing after a monster who’d taken from us. Joe and Ox had gone to her, told her all that had happened. She’d already known bits and pieces, and she listened to Joe and his proposal.
When he’d finished, Sophie said, “Are you sure?”
Joe nodded. “It’s not easy. I won’t lie to you about that. But it’s worth it. You don’t have to say yes. You don’t have to do this. Think about it. Talk it over with your pack. We have time.”
She looked out to Ox, who was talking with her wolves. “You’re not as you once were. You came to me as a child. You were so angry.”
“I was,” Joe agreed. “I didn’t know what I was doing, and I had just lost much of what I’d loved.”
“What changed?”
“I found my way home.”
She nodded. “Don’t you miss it? Being the Alpha of all? Or even just being an Alpha.”
Joe took his time with his answer. “No. I don’t.”
She blinked. “You’re telling the truth.”
“I know where I come from,” he told her. “I know what my name means. I’ve carried the weight of it all my life. But I’ve made my choice. And I would do it again if I had to.”
“He’s very lucky,” Sophie said quietly. “Oxnard. To have someone such as you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Joe said.
She was quiet for a long time before saying, “I’m not like you. I don’t believe in kings and queens. Just because someone has a name that carries weight doesn’t give them the automatic right to lead. If I were to do this, if I were to agree, things would be different. Everyone would have a voice.”
“I know,” Joe said. “Which is why I’m asking you and not someone else. It’s time for a change.”
She told him she’d think about it. Joe believed her.
“Will she do it?” Kelly asked him as we walked through the trees.
“I think so,” Joe said. “It helps that she wouldn’t have to give up the Glacier territory. And that Ai
leen and Patrice have already pledged to help whoever took my place. Aileen knew her father from way back. The Glacier wolves don’t have a witch, and now they could potentially have two. But if not her, there will be others. Someone will lead the pack.”
“What about Ox?” Kelly asked.
Joe shook his head. “He’s…. It’s not something he wants. I don’t think he ever has. He’s happy where he’s at, being our Alpha. Sophie was right. It can’t be about a name anymore. The time for kings and queens is over.”
“And you?” I asked.
Joe smiled. “I’m happy too. It’s…. I guess it’s like the territory. I feel lighter. More at ease.” His smile faded. “I don’t know what he’d think about all of this. Dad.”
I settled my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “He’d tell you that he’s proud of you. For making this choice, for doing what you did. I know it.”
Joe laughed wetly. “You think so?”
“I know so. Scars and all.”
“Thanks, Carter.” He laid his head on my shoulder. “Though I’ll admit I’m kind of annoyed I can’t tell you all what to do anymore.”
Kelly snorted. “Like we ever listened to you to begin with, Alpha or not.”
We found a spot where the sun filtered through the leaves. We lay down on the ground, the grass tickling our skin. Kelly rested his head on my stomach, and Joe put his face in my neck, breathing me in. I watched the clouds go by above us. A dragonfly buzzed around us, its translucent wings flashing in the sunlight.
We were quiet for a time, each of us lost in our own thoughts. It was a good place to be.
Kelly spoke after a while. “We’re always going to be together.”
I put my hand in his hair. “Yeah. We are. No matter what.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
My heart remained steady.
Joe started snoring only a moment later, his breath warm on my neck.
There was nowhere else I wanted to be.
GAVIN AND MOM WERE BACK at the house by the time we returned. Kelly headed into town to go meet Robbie for lunch before he had to go to work. Joe went with him, saying he’d promised Ox he’d bring him food. I watched them as they got into the truck, dust kicking up as they drove down the dirt road, taillights flashing briefly before they disappeared.