by Mary Hughes
Awaiting them in the clearing was the pack—or what was left of it.
Noah had said there’d be the traitorous five plus cowed women, youth, and elderly. But Sophia had processed that information with her human brain, not her wolf.
The reek coming off the anti-alphas was abnormally strong. The others smelled tragically less than they should have.
Arcane Animal Husbandry said it was the scent-producing glands on their tails, less in the females and elderly because their tails were tucked. Their bodies and ears slumped even more than the submissiveness of followers would call for.
This was subservience from abasement and fear.
Her wolf flared with fury. The hope of future generations and the elders who should have been revered were scared and cowed, while those anti-alpha idiots, with strength and not much else, were preening and prancing like alphas.
She growled low in her throat.
The low-ranking wolves heard, abuse probably having attuned them to every nuance. Their heads came up, their eyes wide on her, a combination of wolf and human surprise.
One of the idiots finally saw her. Big, dark gray, with mean little eyes and markings like a skull on his chest. Ah yes, Ivan. He said, Who is she?
Well, he hadn’t really said it. But his meaning was clear enough through a combination of posture, ear-flagging, teeth-baring, growling, and sort of mental push on a group wavelength.
Noah snarled. When all attention was on him, he urged Sophia forward with his muzzle to stand before the pack. Then he used the gland on the top side of his tail to release pheromones onto her. Arcane Animal Husbandry told her this was standard animal behavior, an alpha identifying that which was his. He’d have done it to every member of his pack when he’d become alpha.
Experiencing it, it seemed less like “behavior” and more like high ritual.
Mason trotted in front of her, tail waving like a royal standard. Hail our queen. He turned to her and bowed over one bent foreleg.
Clyde! A smaller maize-colored wolf danced on delicate paws. You said I’d be queen.
Bonnie was smaller as a wolf than Sophia had expected. She felt statuesque, almost regal in comparison. She stood taller, her tail unfurling and waving slightly.
Bonnie’s ears went straight up and she bared her teeth at Sophia. Sophia didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she did know Bonnie wasn’t happy. Lolz. Sophia’s tail only waved harder.
A cold nose poked Sophia’s rear. She tucked tail and whipped around to confront Ivan. What the fuck, she tried to say, but all that came out was a low growl. Or maybe that was Noah.
Ivan’s back stiffened in surprise. She’s fertile.
She’s our queen, Mason said. Jayden, in a low undertone, added, Dumbshit. Mason continued, Of course she’s fertile.
I’m not fertile. I’m not your queen. Again nothing came out but a low burr from Sophia’s throat, this one closer to a whimper than a growl.
Bonnie caught it. She looked down her nose at Sophia, the long muzzle making her disdain even more effective than a human. Is our queen dumb?
Clyde made a hiccupping growl. A snicker, not as human as Jayden’s, but insulting all the same. Ivan joined in, and Killer, then Marlowe following his brother’s lead. Sophia realized belatedly that Attila was nowhere to be seen or smelled.
Enough! Noah braced large on his four paws, his raised coat making him even bigger, and gave them all a golden glare. Let’s get this done.
Let us, oh great king? Ivan’s words were servile but his tone was just short of rude. A true Challenge Hunt belongs to the king and queen alone.
Noah’s eyes narrowed to slits, his lips peeled back to expose gleaming fangs; his low dangerous growl could have flayed the bark off trees. Sophia didn’t need words to get that. He wasn’t happy at all.
Jayden nudged her flank. He’s going to tell them all to stuff it. Somehow he’d found a wavelength apart from the common band, his words clearer than the general mental push. They need him as alpha. Do something. Stop him.
How? The word was as lost in her brain as all the others. She raised her eyebrows and popped her eyes instead. Hopefully the “What do I do, since I can’t speak?” was clear enough.
Meanwhile Noah was barking, This is bullshit. I’m not risking my mate because you’ve got a hard-on for me. I’m abdicat—
“All right, listen up, wolfies!” Sophia shifted to human so fast her hair burned. “Too much arguing, not enough hunting. Let’s get going.” She stalked away, shedding her humanity as she went.
She strode through a stunned silence. Hesitantly, several of the pack made almost reverent bows.
Stars and moon. Apparently quick shifting was a strength indicator to weres.
Then Bonnie yipped. Our queen is blind to the customs as well as dumb. We must howl first, for the good fortune of the hunt.
Sophia bristled and turned to give Bonnie a good glare. If she made that dumb comment one more time she was so getting a rolled-up newspaper whacked across the nose.
Noah growled, ears up and fangs exposed. Sophia readied herself for another quick shift but he only said, Fine. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it.
His voice raised in a strong howl. One by one, the others entered until it was a chorus. It was beyond eerie.
It went on long enough to get on Sophia’s nerves. She waited, voiceless, feeling left out, feeling truly dumb.
But then she thought, hey, they were the ones howling before setting off on a hunt. Didn’t that warn the prey? That was dumber than a sack of hammers.
Enough already. Sophia got off her haunches and set out. The others could follow or not.
Chapter Twenty-One
The howls died. Sophia smelled wolves trailing her but she refused to look, knowing her authority was already shaky.
Then she caught Bonnie’s peeved push. How the hell does our queen know where she’s going when she’s not a real wolf?
Sophia got a surge of pleasure. Yeah, maybe she wasn’t a real wolf or even a hunter, but she was human with a brain and she knew where she was going. She knew where the deer hung out from past summers shining them—a kids-up-north thing.
She headed toward the Big Field.
Or at least where she thought the Big Field was. Some of the landmarks had changed over the years, and others looked different from a few feet lower down. Her strides became tentative.
Each snicker from Ivan goaded her. Each “poor dumb queen” from Bonnie rankled. Sophia started trotting, then running.
When they hit the clearing, Noah caught up to Sophia and ran beside her.
Joy sang through her, the deep, intrinsic pleasure of being alive and of running with her mate and her pack. She lengthened her stride, outdistancing even Noah.
She saw the gray stag first, warily emerging from the far copse. Instinct ripped through her, surging with unholy glee. She rode atop it, veering toward the tall, muscular animal. He bolted, but too late. She gained steadily. She was a yard behind the stag when he whirled.
She got a faceful of antlers. Not hardened yet, but the starlight lancing through trees glinted dangerously off twelve very sharp points. She clamped on the brakes, skidding stiff-legged in the turf.
Sophia, no! With a powerful leap, Noah surged over her head. She sucked in a breath. Would he land on the creature’s deadly rack?
At the last minute he tucked his paws into his body, clearing the stag’s crown with inches to spare, and landed on its withers. He spun, opened powerful jaws, and clamped onto its spine. A crunch later, the huge stag fell to its knees. Sophia froze. With a gasp, the stag went onto its side. Its last breath went out of it in a rattle.
She told herself that at least it had been quick and painless for the stag.
The rest of the pack caught up. In the general excitement, Killer edged into the woods’ shadows behind Noah, where a dark human shape had appeared. The missing Attila?
Something went from human hand to wolf mouth.
The
rest of the pack crowded around Noah and the stag, congratulating him, blocking her view of both Noah and Killer.
She nudged aside wolves until she could see.
Killer stood beside Noah, stray starlight glinting off metal clenched in the anti-alpha’s teeth.
A blade.
Electric shock made her cry, Noah! But still nothing came out. She sprang desperately toward him—just as Killer jabbed his muzzle into Noah’s flank.
Her mate’s ears jerked back. He skipped away with a yip.
Sophia landed beside Killer. She snapped at him and snarled. Killer danced back.
Her mate’s soft whuffle recalled her to him. Noah’s stiff legs and pulled-back ears said something was very wrong. Immediately she went to him and sniffed his flank, where Killer had jabbed. She got a noseful of hot copper. She whined as blood welled up through his thick black fur and trickled down his coat.
How did this happen? Mason demanded.
Killer said, The stag’s antlers must have stabbed him. If he’d held a knife in his mouth, he’d tossed it away, and Attila had grabbed it up. She didn’t smell it or see it now.
Not antlers, Sophia tried to say, still stupidly mute, shook her head in a vigorous no. Noah had cleared the buck’s crown like a bird.
No one paid attention.
Shift, Noah, Jayden said. That should heal it.
Noah shifted. It was fast, but Sophia knew how instantly he’d done it before. Worse, he stifled a gasp and pressed a hand to his shirt-covered side. Intense pain crossed his face, suppressed so quickly, she almost thought she’d imagined it.
She slid nearer. He lifted his hand barely an inch and stared at it. Blood smeared his palm and darkened his shirt underneath. Only he and Sophia saw it.
Quickly he shifted back. The Hunt is successful. My mate and I will eat. Then the rest of you will taste in the order we give. Tail lifted like nothing was wrong, he trotted to the stag’s belly.
Wait, what? They’d eat? As in, him and her? She started giving him as many no, not, never, uh-uh signals as she could short of waving her paws like a berserker puppet.
Jayden nosed her. He said on that private band, Just pretend.
Oh. Yeah. She could do that. Panic subsided. She raised her own tail and strutted to Noah’s side…where he’d opened the stag’s belly with a powerful chomp. Under her fur, her face turned green.
She managed to pretend to sample pâté de foie stag for about two seconds before she stepped back.
Bonnie immediately took her place.
Sophia growled, low and angry. Wolf pecking order might normally give Bonnie first dibs, but some of those trembling females had less meat on them than fur on a hanger. Noah had said they’d choose the order, not nature, so Sophia growled louder.
Bonnie pretended not to hear.
That just pissed Sophia off.
So when Noah herded one of the elderly wolves toward the stag to take his place, Sophia found the thinnest female and nosed her in too, next to Bonnie.
Bonnie turned on the poor wolf, snarling and nipping to force her out. The wolf whimpered.
Righteous anger blazed through Sophia. She turned human, grabbed Bonnie by the hips and pulled her away.
Bonnie yowled. She jerked her hips away from Sophia and muscled back in on the deer.
Sophia grabbed Bonnie’s tail with both hands and yanked.
Claws scrabbling, Bonnie came away from the carcass. With a bark she twisted and tried to bite Sophia.
Enough is enough. Sophia whacked her across the snout.
Bonnie turned human. It took her a while, muscle creaking and bones cracking. But when she stood facing Sophia, murder was in her eyes. “You’re pretty happy for a woman who’s just killed her mate.”
“What are you talking about? The Hunt was successful.”
“Sure.” Bonnie smirked. “Noah won this challenge. Better if he’d lost. That would have only meant his exile. Now he’ll be fighting Ivan—to his death.”
* * *
With the pack busily feeding, Noah, Mason, Jayden, and Sophia returned to the garage.
The moment Noah was inside and out of sight of the pack, he sagged, a hand to his flank.
“What’s wrong?” Sophia was immediately at his side, fussing like he was hers to fuss over.
“Nothing,” he said wearily.
She yanked open his shirt to reveal his ribs. Dried brown blood streaked his sleek skin. She grabbed one of Mason’s hand wipes and cleaned it off. Noah bore it stoically but now she could see the blackened skin, angry red lines radiating from the wound. It had to hurt like hell. “Not nothing.”
Noah peered at his side. “Damn it. You’re right. Not nothing.” His voice was soft. “This looks like the wound that killed my mother.”
Sophia’s heart iced. “What did that fuck Killer do to you, that you’re not healing?”
“Let me see.” Jayden moved her gently aside, surprising in a man with his strength and shocking in a man with his annoyance factor. He examined Noah’s flank with a bunch of grave hmms and tsks. Even in those few moments, Noah’s pupils dilated severely and his mouth worked like it was dry. “Like your mother’s but deeper.”
She didn’t like any of it. “Magic?”
“Yes.” Jayden’s black eyes snapped. “Which is why shifting hasn’t healed it.”
“Killer’s no wizard. How’d he manage it?”
“I’d guess a knife treated with magical poison,” Jayden said. “Enhanced nightshade, from the looks of it.”
“That’s not deadly to shifters,” Sophia said.
“It is if it’s mixed with the target’s blood.”
She chilled. “This was planned? How lethal is it?”
“In an iota wolf, within minutes.” Jayden reached into his pocket. “An alpha takes longer to die, but not much. Hours. Unless we stop it, now.” He pulled out a flat silver disk.
“Hours?” Noah’s shock was clear. “My mother took days.”
“There are significant differences,” Jayden said. “That was regular magic, and a glancing blow. This is enhanced. Stabbed deep.”
“How do you know—?”
“What the hell do you think you’re using?” Sophia grabbed for the disk. “It’s silver.”
Jayden snatched it away. “It’s this or nothing. Noah?”
Noah removed his hand. Even in those few moments the poison had spread. Angry red stitched across his ribs like forks of toxic lightning. “Do what you have to. Stop this.”
“Wait.” Sophia jabbed her finger at the disk. “Not before I know what that thing does.”
“It’s an asp’s compress, princess,” Jayden said. “It’ll suck the poison back to the point of entry and imprison it there. Once the poison is centralized, we can eventually extract it with a spell.”
“How’d you happen to have it along?” Mason asked suspiciously.
“Please. When the anti-alphas lost at Bonnie and Clyde’s, I knew they’d try something underhanded. I also have a disk for plague, bullets, and catastrophic hemorrhoids.” He gave Mason a glare. “I mean hemorrhages. Now if you’re all done proving how skeptical you are on your alpha’s behalf…?”
Mason nodded reluctantly, and Jayden slapped the disk against Noah’s skin.
Noah sucked in a pained breath.
“Hold still.” Jayden counted three then lifted the disk away. It made a thwuck like a suction cup coming off, revealing a small circular red patch.
“That made it worse.” Sophia snatched the disk from Jayden. It tingled in her fingers.
“It only looks it.” Jayden was unrepentant. “The poison was drawn to the surface and confined. See?”
“I’m okay.” Noah’s words were a little gaspy. “I think I’m feeling better.”
“Lucky Jayden.” She put a little wolf in it. “I won’t kill him immediately.”
Noah gave her a small smile. Then he said to Jayden, “Now heal me.”
“I hand you a minor miracle, and you w
ant more?” Jayden grimaced. “Shifters. Look. Magical poison stabbed deep into a hexed werewolf is tricky enough. Add in your other little issue, and if I try to remove the poison the wrong way it’ll irritate the hex—or any other magic on you—and make things worse.”
Sophia’s ears pricked. Or any other magic on you. Was that the secret Jayden had hinted at?
Mason growled. “You said that once the poison was centralized, you could extract it.”
Jayden was already shaking his head. “I said we could eventually extract it. First we have to remove the hex. Then we’ll see.”
Sophia didn’t like any of this. She examined the disk. Small runes were inscribed around its edge. Introductory arcane languages told her the symbols had to do with healing, but silver wasn’t made for a werewolf.
So why had it worked?
“Then remove the damned hex,” Noah said to Jayden. There was more than a little wolf in his growl.
Jayden gave an exaggerated sigh. “Any removal spell will remove the containment on the poison as well. Released poison, scant hours to live, remember?”
“Damn you.” Mason crowded Jayden, almost chest-butting. “Sounds like convenient excuses.”
“It’s magic, not me.” Jayden threw his hands in the air. “Ask her if you don’t believe me.”
Mason’s head swiveled.
Sophia nodded reluctantly. “Single spells are easy. But layer two or more, and complexity zings off the scale.”
“He’s telling the truth?” Mason’s jaw gaped.
“I don’t know. But it’s possible that, in trying to remove the hex, he’d release the poison.” She liked this less and less. Five shitheads she knew and one she didn’t—with powerful magic—were threatening her mate. And now a man who was supposed to be a friend was using silver on him?
She cracked her third eye to peek at the disk. The metal glowed with diamond-blue purity on the etheric, like a small white-hot star in her palm. It was a magic healing token all right.