by Casey Morgan
I slammed my hand into the wooden door. All my strength was behind that punch and the wood couldn’t take it. It splintered right above the handle. Red paint chips fell into the old snow around me. One more punch and there was a sizeable hole. I slipped my hand inside and unlocked the door.
The first room of the bar was empty, but it was warm inside. A bare bulb blinked over the bar itself, giving very little light to the room and mostly illuminating the bottles of liquor.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. The note had said to come here, but there was no one waiting for me. If this was a diversion, someone was going to get killed.
There were three hallways off the main room. From the past time I had been here, I knew that one led to the bathrooms.
I took the hallway closest to the bar. It opened into a larger room. A long, iron and glass table ran down the middle of the room, with twenty or so chairs flocking to its sides. They were all empty, except for one—the one at the head of the table.
The tall man sat there casually. Terrell’s boots were propped up on the glass surface. He looked at me with his small black eyes and a smirk twisted his narrow lips.
“Howdy, pup!”
I flinched at the insult. His alpha power and influence pulled at me. It grated across my skin like a rasp. I knew him for what he was: alpha, like me.
Then a realization hit me in the chest like a two-by-four. This was his place, his bar. If he was an alpha, this was a werewolf bar and Terrell had a pack.
I had been in here with no idea I was among my own kind. No wonder the bartender had questioned me.
The ugly man laughed.
“Starting to realize the way of the world, huh? I’m not alone.”
His legs twisted off the table and his boots hit the floor with a loud bam. He stood, rolled his shoulders back, and took a step towards me. We were about the same height.
“You have no pack.”
It was a statement, not a question.
He raised his left hand and held up a single finger.
“You have no sense of smell.”
Finger number two came up.
“You have no home or means.”
Finger three.
“You…”
“I’m aware of my situation,” I barked.
He simply smiled at the interruption.
“Where is your pack?” I questioned, standing up as tall as I could and crossing my arms in front of my chest.
He waved the hand he was using before and gently put it on his hip. The smile on his face said that this was a game to him. It was not to me.
“I told them to hold back. Thought the odds of twenty to one was too much for a pup like you. A lame dog. A beast.”
He drew the sound of the T out to a soft pop.
“Ridiculous,” I huffed. “You had them hold back because you know my sway is more powerful than yours and you didn’t want to lose them.”
He held both hands up and wide, but he didn’t reply. He just snapped his fingers.
Doors to either side of us opened. Men and women—Weres—of all shapes and sizes filed into the room. I recognized some from my time at the bar. They snarled at me, each taking a place along the wall.
No one came between Terrell and me. The last wolf in the door hauled Celeste with him. She was bound in silver chains and dressed in only a thin windbreaker; her skin was bleeding at her wrists and her ankles. Black fabric filled her mouth.
Her eyes opened wide when she saw me, and she struggled with the man who held her shoulders. It was the bartender. I gave him a look of recognition, but he wouldn’t hold my eyes.
I looked back to Celeste, searching her for the signs of blood lust. There were none. Somehow, she wasn’t going crazy. She had made the first shift without disastrous repercussions. The sight of her eased my mind.
A loud smack got my attention. The other alpha hit the table. He grinned when my eyes went back to him.
“You’re right, Mason. Can I call you Mason?” he joked. “This is much more merry. Let everyone see the two alphas fight.”
He pulled one arm in front of him and flexed.
I scoffed.
Muscles meant nothing. It was the strength of the wolf that mattered.
I relaxed into my heels.
“What camp were you at?” I asked.
The question seemed to throw him off a bit.
He blinked at me.
“What?”
“If you are an alpha, what military camp did you grow up on? For me, it was Royal Fields, Alabama.”
I dropped my weight into my knees and put my hands behind my back. Standing at ease came back to me easily.
Terrell chuckled.
“I was never at one of those goddamned camps. My grandfather hid me.”
He proudly put a thumb to his chest.
“I’m all wolf. Pack born and pack raised.”
His pride was sadly his downfall. The few pack-raised alphas that existed were strong werewolves but they weren’t trained in fighting like I was. One on one, I would kill him.
My eyes searched the faces of the folks who lined the walls.
Would this be a one on one fight?
I wasn’t sure.
Celeste was fighting harder against the bartender. Her clear, ice-blue eyes were filled with rage.
“I can’t hold her much longer, Terrell,” he told the alpha, with a whine.
“Give our queen a chair.”
Terrell, the ugly alpha, pointed to the end of the table closest to me.
The bartender pushed my mate forward and pushed her into the metal chair. He pulled the silver chains down and locked them over the chair’s arms.
Celeste was bound tight. She glanced up at me with fire shining through her blue eyes. The sight hit me straight through the gut. She wasn’t scared. My mate was a true wolf. I would be as well. I would be the alpha she deserved.
“Which form?” I asked, my stance still easy and relaxed. “Wolf or man? How would you like to meet your fate?”
“Wolf.”
Terrell didn’t look at me, his eyes were still on Celeste. He wanted her and the sight of his desire made me sick.
I growled and brought his eyes back to mine.
“I assume that pack rules are in effect, correct? None of your wolves will interfere with our fight.”
“Oh please,” Terrell said, with a wave of his thin hands. “That’s the rule for a challenge for pack leadership. This is a fight for a bitch.”
Celeste bit at her gag and struggled forward, as if she would jump over the table to kill him.
I took his words in stride.
“I should have been clearer, then. I’m here for dominance, not the girl.”
Faces turned to me, eyes wide in wonder.
Whispers spread behind and around me. This pack was new; obviously no one had challenged Terrell before.
It clearly shocked the members to their core, but they wouldn’t fight it. Pack rules cannot be broken.
“I will take your pack,” I continued. “And your queen. You, Terrell, will leave Gray Acres, never to return, and live as a lone wolf until another pack take you in.”
Terrell eyed my face, as if trying to find fear in my expression. There was none.
He gave me a sneer and then shrugged.
“The lame pup has big dreams.”
Quite a few of the people lining the wall laughed with him. I ignored them. They were brutes and hoodlums. Once I was in charge, things would change.
“Shift!” I yelled, taking initiative.
The change slammed into me. My limbs burned and compacted. The bones in my face broke and elongated. My teeth became sharp; my nails were claws.
Terrel shifted after me. His wolf form was a dun color, with a dark brown blaze on his chest. His dark eyes burned with gold light.
I leapt towards him, jaws open and snarling. I snapped at his right ear, but he slid to the side and I caught a mouthful of fur.
In typical wolf form, he w
ent right for my throat. I lowered my stomach to the ground and circled around him. Quick on his feet, he circled around me and snapped at my back legs.
I twisted. With my balance thrown off, he nudged his head into my flanks and knocked me to my back.
In a regular wolf fight, this would have meant my death, but I was trained. When his weight came down on me and his jaws stretched towards my throat, I pulled back. The move caused him to fall further forward than he anticipated and that moment of uncertainly was all I needed.
His body was pulled long, stretched to its fullest. I brought my legs up under him and flung his hindquarters to one side. The rest of his body followed and slammed up against the wall.
I was on him before he could shake it off or recover his senses.
My sharp teeth burred into the fur at his neck.
All I had to do was twist quickly, and it would be over for him.
“No!” several voices yelled.
The members of the pack were leaning away from the walls, with their arms out. Some had already started to shift.
“You will not interfere!”
It was Celeste. She had bit through her gag and her mouth was free. The pack flinched under the command and moved back. Some of them shook.
Celeste had power. She was a true alpha female. A real queen. And any command she gave was immediately followed.
I glanced at her and saw her eyes glowing neon blue. She was close to shifting herself.
Terrell was still held fast in my jaws. I realized that he wasn’t fighting back. The slam into the wall must have done real damage. I lowered myself and his body to the ground and let go.
He didn’t whine or growl. He was out cold.
I shifted back. My clothes were still in a pile at the other end of the room, but I was commander of this pack now and would not feel ashamed.
I bent down to Terrell. He was breathing evenly.
I put my hand on his head and let my alpha powers flow through me.
“Shift,” I commanded.
His body went hazy and his limbs elongated. Soon he was a man again, but he was still out cold. His stomach was to the ground. He looked to be sleeping peacefully, but I knew he needed medical attention.
I pointed to the bartender.
“You!”
He came forward on shaky legs.
“Yes, Alpha?”
“You and one other will dress Terrell. Gather his things and then take him to the hospital. Once he wakes and is medically sound, he must leave town.”
I glanced around the room, making sure to look into the eyes of every pack member.
“Does anyone have a problem with me or my leadership?”
“No, pack master,” they said in unison.
“Good. Then go about your business. We will meet in the morning and discuss the changes that need to happen.”
They nodded and moved off slowly. Some went to the bar. A few helped Terrell to his feet. One woman brought me my clothing.
I pulled my boxers and jeans on as I moved to Celeste’s side. She looked me up and down, smiling despite the burns from the sliver chains.
I knelt beside her.
“My love, I’m going to try to take the chains off now. It will hurt, but I will try to do it gently.”
I unlocked the chains and gently started lifting the links that covered her wrists. She never took her eyes off me.
“So, you are mine again?” she asked.
Her lips twisted into a sly smile.
“I never should have sent you away. I’m so sorry you shifted alone. I should have been there,” I pleaded. “I didn’t know we were already bound.”
The chains lifted away, leaving lines of welts.
“This is bad,” I told her.
Celeste looked down and shrugged.
“I’ve had worse burns in the kitchen.”
I laughed and then leaned in to kiss her.
I knew she was trying to make the whole situation better than it was and I loved her for it.
A ruddy, thin man came up to me and crossed his arm over his chest, his fist closed.
“I’m Augie, Alpha. Would you like your belongings retrieved from the Woodside motel?”
I smiled at the man. He was quick to action and good with change. He was a reliable member of the pack, indeed.
“Thank you, Augie. Yes, I would. Have the alpha’s chambers cleaned, please. And someone buy me new sheets. I will not sleep where that dog has been.”
Celeste ran to my arms. Her lips were on mine in an instant, soft and warm. My heart beat faster than it did the whole fight.
Here was my world. My mate was everything to me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mason
Someone cleared their throat behind us. I pulled away from Celeste and turned. Her parents were standing at the edge of the room just inside the door. Both of them were frowning and they looked exhausted.
Celeste pulled down the windbreaker she was wearing to cover her thighs as best she could and looked to her parents.
“Mom. Dad. Why are you here? Why are you even up? It’s almost one o’clock in the morning.”
Her voice was high pitched and worried.
Mr. Blenko pushed into the room. He eyed me for a second and then sat down heavily into one of the metal chairs. Moving was clearly still taking a lot out of him. His wife quickly moved to his side and stood with her hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, it is early, Celeste.”
He put his thin hands onto the table and pointed to the chairs across from him.
“Please, sit. We must talk.”
Celeste and I took the chairs he indicated. Under the table, I took her hand in mine and rubbed her palm with my thumb. She was shaking slightly. She was so brave while dealing with the pack, but I knew she didn’t want her parents to be disappointed in her.
“I received a call from Mr. Terrell around midnight. He told me—”
“You knew this man, Daddy?” Celeste interrupted.
She leaned over the table a bit.
Mr. Blenko dropped his head.
“Yes, Celeste. I knew Mr. Terrell. He and I had a deal and he called me at midnight to tell me that what I had always feared the most had happened.”
He looked up and right into Celeste’s eyes.
“You have shifted. You have become a wolf for the first time.”
My mate’s perfect lips formed into a little O. Her breath hitched and I could see in the distant look of her eyes that her mind was working.
“You knew what I was?” she asked both her parents.
My mate looked crestfallen.
Mr. Blenko nodded.
Celeste’s eyes went wide, and tears formed on their rims.
“Why didn’t you tell me what I was?”
Her voice was low and squeaked a little as she held back the tears.
“I thought you loved me!”
Her adoptive mother frowned a bit. Mrs. Blenko’s lips twisted and her black eyebrows pulled towards one another. Her usual hard expression was replaced with one of warm emotion.
“We do love you, Celeste,” she told her daughter. “We withheld all of this from you to keep you pure. So you wouldn’t know what a monster you were born to be.”
Her father nodded and took his wife’s hand.
“We thought we were doing God’s work with you. We prayed every day to suppress the beast within you.”
“But why?” Celeste begged.
Her shoulders bent forward, as if she longed to get up and run to the only parents she had ever known and seek their comfort.
“I am so much happier now. Everything about me makes sense. I fit in!”
She held her hands out before her in a pleading gesture.
Mr. Blenko sighed and combed his hands through his thin dark hair. I could tell he was still having trouble breathing through his mending nose.
“When we adopted you, Celeste, they told us what you were. They told us if you ever shifted, you w
ould become dangerous and violent. So, we prayed and raised you in the church. It was the only way we could think of to hold back the blood lust that was within you. Then when you were younger, this man, Terrell, he saw you for what you were. He claimed you as an alpha werewolf. He wanted to take you right away…”
Tears started to fill his green eyes.
“But my child, you were so young and innocent. I fought with him, but he was much too strong for me. All I could do was make a deal. I begged him to wait until your first shift or your twenty-fifth birthday. It was all I could do.”
Under the table, Celeste gripped my hand strongly. There was tears in her eyes as her dad spoke and her whole body shook. There was so much they didn’t tell her—so much they had struggled with.
“Mr. Terrell wouldn’t let us move or he said he would come get you early,” her father continued, “and I was too weak to fight a werewolf. So, we stayed. We stayed so your mother and I could have a few more years with you. Even when the shops around us emptied, we stayed. Even when the customers stopped coming in, we stayed. Even when I had to start paying for protection, we stayed—though it cost your mother every piece of jewelry she ever had.”
He reached up and patted his wife’s arm.
Mrs. Blenko rubbed tears from her eyes.
“It was worth it,” she whispered. “You are our real jewel.”
Celeste was crying hard now.
“Oh, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought you two were weak, but this whole time, you were fighting for me.”
Mrs. Blenko put her head to her husband’s and let her tears flow.
“Everything we have done, was for one more day with you, Celeste,” Mr. Blenko explained. “Even sending Mr. Whitepaw away. Mr. Terrell called me and told me that Mr. Whitepaw was also a werewolf and that he would push you to shift. And apparently that has happened?”
Celeste nodded.
“I’m a werewolf, Daddy,” she cried.
Her face was red now, twisted with sorrow.
“I am the monster that you feared all this time.”
The old man’s shoulders dropped. His thin hands slid off the glass table and into his lap.
“I see.”
His voice was filled with sorrow and resignation.
“But she’s not a monster,” I told them.
My voice seemed loud among all their whispers. Everyone turned to look at me.