by H. D. Gordon
But, tonight, the thought of him going to another female bugs me, even if I have no right to be jealous. I know in my gut that had I accepted Akim years ago, when the shaman had first predicted our mating, he would have never taken another female in that way.
I shut this line of thought down as soon as I take note of its direction. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Akim hands me his helmet as he sits astride the black and chrome Harley. “You coming, little wolf?” he asks.
There’s a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes that always reminds of me our childhood. The bastard knows what he did to me back in my apartment. From the way I’d cried out, there could be no mistaking.
I slide the helmet over my head to hide my scowl, and Akim chuckles as I swing onto the bike behind him, glad that I chose to wear my black boots this evening.
As I slip my arms around his muscled waist, I feel my lower regions stirring again.
Puppies and kittens. Puppies and kittens. Puppies and muthafuckin’ kittens.
Akim revs the bike and we start off. I keep my hold on him, and have to repeat the mantra the entire damn way.
Yo, but on some real shit; there ain’t no party like a pack party.
These fools are wild, in every damn sense of the word. And never more so than on a full moon. By the time we pull up, half of the sons of bitches are already shit-faced drunk.
The moon and a roaring bonfire provide the only light, and there is no one besides the pack around for miles. This land belongs to the Philly Pack, and it’s protected with literal tooth and claw.
Over three hundred acres of woodlands and pastures, hills and rivers, ponds and crops, within an hour’s drive from the city. We’ve owned this place for over three hundred years, and someday, the protection of it will pass down to Akim as the future alpha. If he manages to submit or kill any challengers, that is.
And there will be challengers. There always is.
Akim brings the motorcycle to a stop and I slide off as he halts the engine and engages the kickstand.
“Tonight is for celebrating,” he whispers in my ear, his large presence offering comfort behind me.
I roll my shoulders and shake off the nonsense. Since when have I needed the comfort of a male presence? The stresses of the day must really be getting to me.
“I’ll get you some moonshine,” Akim says before entering the fray.
Wolves in both their human and animal forms are everywhere; drinking and running, chasing and laughing, a handful squabbling over near the tall golden cornstalks. Several stand around the enormous bonfire, where sparks and embers float in an endless procession up into the night sky before burning out. It seems every star in the universe is visible with the lack of light pollution out here. It is like a different world from the city where I work and live, a different planet.
“What’s up, ya little bitch?”
A smile breaks out over my face before I even turn toward the speaker.
Hera grins at me with a dazzling smile. My cousin is stunningly beautiful, with long dark hair and big almond eyes, full lips and high cheekbones. Tonight, she wears the next-to-nothing fur attire that is traditional among wolves during a mating ceremony. The pelts cover her most intimate bits, and that’s about it, and they are made of out the kills of her mate’s hunts. Another tradition.
“You look like you want to get eaten right up, cuz,” I say.
Hera pulls me into a hug and plants a kiss on both of my cheeks. “That’s the plan,” she says with a wink. She glances around. “Where’s Akim?”
I roll my eyes. “How would I know?”
Hera snorts. “I can smell him all over you, Harp.” Her eyes narrow and white teeth flash in another dazzling grin. “Wait, did you guys…?” She wags her arched brows.
I shove her away playfully. “No,” I say.
She shoves me back, and we engage in horseplay just like when we were children, pinching and slapping at each other and laughing all the while.
We are still doing this when Akim returns with the promised moonshine. Henry, who is Hera’s mate, is with him. The two males watch our antics with rueful smirks.
“Females are crazy, bro,” Henry says.
Hera wheels on him. Then she runs at him and leaps up, and Henry catches his bride-to-be in his arms. The two kiss and laugh and scatter the gathered wolves, which only provokes more laughter from the group.
Someone tips back their head and howls at the moon, which turns into a chorus of howls so loud they fill up the night sky.
Akim hands me the mug of moonshine, and I down a third of it in a single swig. He observes but says nothing. Smart man.
The poison does its work swiftly, awakening the beast in me along with my pack brothers and sisters, and promising for one hell of a rowdy night.
As long as it helps me forget about the day, fine by me.
14
8:25 p.m.
I stand buck-ass naked under the light of the full moon.
Three hundred other wolves do the same beside me.
The race is about to start. We’re practically chomping at the bits to get it going.
The children watch, some already in their pup forms. This is much too dangerous a game for them to partake.
Lingering clouds clear the face of the full moon…and the shift begins.
It only takes me a fraction of a second to make the change from human to wolf, a feat I’ve prided myself on since I was a pup. The faster the shift, the more powerful the wolf, as the change was a point of vulnerability. Everything in the world of the wolves was about dominance and power.
Akim’s shift is even faster than mine. The fastest in the pack, actually. Which surely means the next transition of alphas is near.
Dreadful anticipation fills me at the thought.
Once Akim took the alpha position, his authority as such would be questioned if the female positioned to mate with him—ahem, that would be me—denied him.
He’d ask me to make it official, and if I refused, he’d have to take another.
I look over at him, where he stands beside me in his wolf form. His beast is utterly black, and as large as any that has ever lived. My mind flashes back to my apartment, to the image of him kneeling between my legs, to those dark eyes and sinful lips devouring me whole.
I must be giving off a hormonal scent, because wolf-Akim turns to me, and his eyes are glowing gold.
Gods damn them, but mine light up in response.
Akim watches me, ears perked atop his head, tail low, power lacing through every muscle and fiber.
Little Nora, still in her human form, crosses in front of the line of gathered wolves. She turned seven a week ago, and is one of my favorite of the pups in the pack, because she reminds me of myself at her age. Quiet but strong, and mostly sure of herself. A firecracker when she needed to be, but otherwise pretty chill.
Nora raises a red flag over her head, excitement dancing in her brown eyes. Low growls and the rustle of movement vibrate through the pack.
Nora drops the red flag.
Her hair flies back as hundreds of wolves dart by her, including myself.
There are five miles between us and the end, where another red flag waits.
Whoever reaches it first, wins.
Gods, it feels good to be running.
It always does.
I leap and bound through the brush, dodging obstacles and weaving between the tightly packed trees of the forest. I’ve run this route a hundred times, like most of the wolves around me, but that doesn’t make it any less treacherous. This land has been kept wild, and it boasts all the features of such care.
Smaller creatures scatter from the path of the stampede. Wolves fight tooth and claw to take the lead, jostling for first place in a tangle of fangs and fur.
Getting to the red flag at the end of the course is the easy part, and many wolves will not even get there tonight. The battles that will ensue once we reached the flag will be even more brutal.
<
br /> Akim had been winning the flag for the past few years, every time, without fail. Our current alpha—the only adult wolf that did not compete in the races—had certainly taken notice.
Everyone had taken notice. His victories were only part of the reason he’d been slated to be the next alpha.
Of course, he’d have to make Gavin—our current alpha—submit first. But Gavin was getting older, while Akim was nearing thirty years old—a prime age for a male wolf.
I shove these thoughts from my mind as I pull ahead, darting around a couple wolves who have managed to get in front of me while my dumbass was ruminating. Branches and brambles tug at my fur as I push myself harder, the strong muscles in my legs propelling me onward.
I make the conscious choice to lose myself to the sensations, to yield total control to my wolf. My pace increases even more. My wolf has always been one fast motherfucker.
I find myself closing in on Akim. This happens almost every race, but I can never manage to pull past the bastard at the last moment, when it really counts. And just like everyone else in the pack, I’m sure as shit not going to challenge him once he gets that red flag between his jaws.
Others before had tried, and all had failed.
Sheesh, a bitch sure was thinking a lot about Akim Algernon this evening.
“Hey, little wolf.”
As if my damn mind had summoned him.
I respond in the telepathic manner wolves share. “What’s up?”
“Take the flag tonight.”
My already harsh breathing catches in my throat. Akim has never asked me to do this before. And the way he’d said it had not really been a question.
It had been a command.
He’s never commanded me to do anything before, either.
Now I’m all flustered and confused and shit because normally I rail against being ordered to do something, one of the reasons I have such a hard time with my current employment situation.
But gods help me, when Akim gives his order, my initial instinct is not to rail against it.
My initial, gut instinct is to give in.
As if I’d been commanded to do so by my alpha.
15
9:00 p.m.
To take the flag, or not to take the flag, that is the question.
And I have maybe half a minute to decide.
Any kind of hesitation on my part could cost Akim the flag entirely, as the other wolves were currently chomping at our heels to reach the damn thing first.
What does it mean if I take it?
What does it mean if I don’t?
Acceptance or denial.
Simple as that.
Thirty seconds isn’t nearly enough time to decide such a thing. Then again, I suppose, in reality, I’d had years to make my choice. I’d known about our match since I was thirteen, and I am now twenty-eight years old.
Ten seconds.
Five.
Akim is just ahead of me, but he does not reach out again telepathically. He wants me to make the choice entirely of my own volition.
I reach the red flag first, just as Akim intends.
And take the damn thing between my jaws.
Great.
Now all I have to do is get back to the bonfire with the red flag, and I will have asserted myself before the whole pack.
The male wolves are surprised, but they fall back as the females begin to circle.
I lower my head and place the flag between my front paws in order to free up my teeth for the inevitable attack.
Which comes flying in like a missile.
The growl that tears up my throat quickly turns into snarls as the other female and I collide, jaws snapping. My heart beats fast, though the wolf in me is calm, eager, and hungry.
I rip out a chunk of red-gold fur, surprised by the identity of the attacker, though I suppose I should not be. Tara came to us a little over a year ago as a lone wolf, and had somehow convinced Calvin—our current alpha—to let her join the pack. It’s not unheard of for a lone wolf to find a pack, but most people in a pack grow up together, and are born into the group.
For this reason, Tara’s challenge is bold, bordering on overly so. I’d been one of the few wolves who had been nice to her, too.
She yelps as I catch her again on her left flank, my teeth sinking just deep enough to really hurt, but not seriously injure. I taste her blood on my tongue, and have to remind my wolf that we don’t want to kill Tara. Newbie or not, she is our sister. And these runs are not meant to lead to murder. Simply a show of dominance.
But it becomes apparent a moment later that Tara is not playing by the same rules.
Her jaws snap closed a quarter-inch from my throat, and I move out of her way with less than an inhale to spare. Though I sense them there, the wolves around us have gone silent, surely as aware of the slights from the newcomer as I.
“Careful, little wolf,” Akim says into my mind. “It seems our new addition is playing for keeps.”
I barely hear him for the single-minded purpose that has descended over me. To insult me is one thing; human Harper could think things through and rationalize. But to insult my wolf is another matter entirely. That bitch bites first and asks questions later.
The fur on my back stands on end, the lust of a predator making my eyes burn wolf-gold.
I watch the way she moves, the steps she favors, dodging her as she darts in for another attack. I let her get near enough that I feel her hot breath on me.
Then I make my move, twisting around at the last second and snapping my jaws shut around her rear right leg.
My powerful teeth crush the bones there like twigs. Hot blood rushes into my mouth, coating my tongue. Around us, the wolves are shifting, howling, and snarling, as awakened by the coppery scent as am I.
Tara throws her head back and howls at the full moon, agony lacing the sound.
But the crazy ass bitch takes another snap at me, her teeth pulling free a tuft of hair on my chest, just below my neck.
She’s still trying to take me down.
Either the bitch is crazy, or this shit is personal.
But that is a pondering for later.
I’ve destroyed one of her legs, an injury that will take months to heal, even with our extraordinary regenerative capabilities, so knocking her onto her back is nothing. Then my jaws are around her throat, and I have to sternly command my wolf to spare Tara’s life.
Fucking generous, if you ask me.
“Submit,” I say into her mind as the others watch on.
She squirms a bit, as if she really thinks she can break free. I close my jaws a touch, the tips of my very sharp fangs sinking into her fur and puncturing the flesh beneath.
“Submit,” I repeat. “I won’t ask again.”
For a split second, she hesitates, and I realize that it is personal, whatever this grudge is she has towards me, though I can’t for the life of me recall ever being anything but nice to the bitch.
Finally, she projects her defeat into the minds of the pack.
“I submit,” Tara says.
Even so, it takes some convincing my wolf before I release my hold on her throat and back away, my eyes scanning the crowd for another challenger.
No one steps forward.
I pick up the red flag and start the trek back to the bonfire.
I pull on some clothes and am handed a cup of moonshine right after.
“Yo, what the fuck was that about?” Hera asks me as she glances toward the male wolf carrying Tara to the big house to tend her injuries.
I shrug. “I don’t know what the hell her problem is.”
“She’s lucky you didn’t kill her.”
I’m sure the expression on my face relays my agreement, so again, I shrug.
“I bet it has something to do with him,” Hera says, nodding toward where Akim is filling a cup with moonshine near the bonfire.
“Why do you say that?”
Hera raises a brow. “Tara has had her eyes on him
since she first joined the pack a year ago. Hell, with the way that you’ve been avoiding officially mating him, half the young females in the pack have probably been thinking about going after him. He’s gonna be our new alpha sooner or later.”
“No one has said anything to me about it.”
Hera laughs out loud as I stare at her in confusion, which only makes her laugh harder.
“No one would say anything to you about it, Harp,” she says, after she gets a hold of herself. “Other than Celine, you’re the most dominant female in the pack. None of these bitches want to challenge you.”
It’s not that I’ve been oblivious to what Hera is saying; I did always come out first in the contests among the females of the pack, but I guess I was surprised because I’d been careful not to brag or flaunt my natural dominance, mostly because I wasn’t ready to accept the eventual responsibilities tied to such a position. It was the same reason I’d been slow in accepting my place beside Akim.
Everyone thinks they want to be alpha, but the truth is, being alpha meant being responsible, it meant pulling the load when it got too heavy for others.
As if the thoughts summon him, Akim catches sight of me through the flames of the fire and heads my way.
16
10:10 p.m.
Not gonna lie, part of me wants to turn tail and run.
But the other part of me is mesmerized by him. I’m not sure what is happening between us, why I seem to be growing steadily unable to resist him, but as Akim walks toward me now, it’s almost as if I’m really seeing him for the first time.
The way he moves is both graceful and predatory, as if each step is routine in some deadly dance. Tall with wide shoulders, dark eyes and hair; he stands out in any crowd.
He sees he has my attention, and I can practically sense the wolf in him sitting up as well.
It’s as if all of a sudden I am Little Red Riding Hood, and the Big Bad Wolf looks like he wants to devour me whole.