by T. J. Klune
Her eyes hardened. “Your father didn’t understand the value of who you were. Of who your mother was. I’ve seen you in his shadow. I know the words he spoke to you. But you don’t belong to him. The moment my son found you on the road, you belonged to us.”
“Did you know? Even then? Did Thomas know? Is that why you did all of this? Is that why Joe…” gave me his wolf? But I couldn’t get the words out. Because the thought of Joe being forced into something that he didn’t have a choice over, that he didn’t even want, made me cold.
She knew, though. She always did. “No,” she said quietly. “We knew you were a remarkable young man. Ox. Kind and caring. We knew that from the very start. And that you’d make a wonderful addition to our pack. But the rest? This? Ox, this is something we never thought would happen. You can plan for life, but life always has plans of its own. If Thomas hadn’t died, if your mother hadn’t died, if Richard Collins hadn’t escaped or even focused on our family to begin with. If, Ox. It’s always about the if.” Her eyes flared orange and I felt the pull like I’d never felt before. “But it’s not if now. Now it’s something else.”
Mark tipped his head back, baring his throat.
Robbie did the same, tail thumping nervously.
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, the long column of skin muted in the starlight.
She said it then.
The one word.
And I hoped that Joe could forgive me.
Because as much as I wanted to fight this, I didn’t think I had the strength.
Not anymore.
“Alpha.”
the third year/mystical moon connection
IT WAS in the third year that Robbie moved into the main house, shortly after being recognized as part of the Bennett pack. His superiors didn’t seem surprised. A gruff man came to the house, wearing a wrinkled suit and a skinny tie. His eyes widened briefly when I entered the room, able to sense something about me I still didn’t quite understand.
He was blunt and to the point. There had been no sign of Richard Collins, no tangible proof of him for well over a year. The teams that had been searching for him since he’d fled Green Creek were coming back with nothing. There weren’t even rumors of him anymore.
The same was said of Joe and the others. We hadn’t heard anything from them, though Elizabeth kept insisting that they were alive, that she would know if something happened to them, to her sons. I didn’t have the heart to disagree with her, though I lay awake at night imagining a hundred different things that could have happened to them. That they’d found Richard and he’d killed them, becoming an Alpha. That even though they were alive, they were never coming back. That I’d never see Carter again. Or Kelly. Or Gordo.
And Joe, of course. Because he was on my mind more than the others.
The gruff man told us that they’d continue the search, but it seemed halfhearted. They spoke as if Michelle Hughes was going to be long-term, to finally have someone permanent take Thomas’s place as the head Alpha. “We’ll give it time,” he said, sipping black coffee. “But we can’t wait forever.”
He asked to speak to me privately. I glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded before agreeing. She pointed toward Thomas’s old office, and I hesitated only briefly. The others left the house. Tanner, Rico, and Chris were at the shop.
The gruff man waited until he was sure they were out of earshot before closing the door to the office. I sat behind the desk, more intimidated than I expected to be. I tried to push it down, but I think he knew.
Then, “She’s curious about you.”
I didn’t expect that. “Who?”
“Alpha Hughes.”
“Why?”
He snorted. “Because you’re human, and somehow you’ve become an Alpha. Of the Bennett pack, no less.”
“Joe’s the Alpha of the Bennett pack,” I said. I was just temporary. I’d accepted it more than I had before, but it was still a work in progress. One that I hoped would be over very, very soon.
“Joe’s not here.”
“He will be,” and I wondered if the gruff man heard the traitorous thump of my heart.
“How did you do it?” he asked. “She’ll want to know. Not because you’ve done anything wrong or because she’ll want to take anything from you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why go there first?”
He shrugged. “Because you did. And I don’t blame you. Neither does she. This pack has been put through… a lot. Which is an understatement. You don’t hand out trust easily.”
You meaning the pack. He spoke to me as if we were one out of respect. “There aren’t many people to trust.”
“Alpha Hughes—”
“Is someone I’ve never met,” I said sharply. “So I can’t be expected to trust her.”
“That hasn’t stopped her from wondering about you.”
“Keeping tabs.”
“Robbie,” he said.
“Robbie,” I agreed.
“Would you believe me if I told you that his updates have gotten exceedingly vague as time has gone by?”
I would, because they had. I nodded slowly, wondering if I was going to have to fight this gruff man for one of my pack. Because Robbie wasn’t his. He didn’t belong to Alpha Hughes. He belonged to me. Here. With the pack.
“She understands.”
“Does she?” I asked.
“Probably more than you know. I can’t say you don’t have the instincts we do, because I don’t know what you are. But a wolf knows when he fits. When he finds a home. There’s a pull. In his head and chest. It starts off small at first. But it grows, if allowed. And you’ve allowed it.”
“You can’t take him back,” I said bluntly. “I won’t let you.”
He eyed me for a moment. Then, “I wouldn’t ask that of him. Or you.”
“He’s mine now.” And something primal in me took great joy from the thought.
“We know. It’s not exactly ideal, but—”
“Better than Osmond.”
The gruff man flinched at that. “Fair.”
“Fair? I think that might be an understatement.”
“Osmond was… unforeseen.”
“Osmond was a mistake. I think even Thomas knew that. Before it happened.”
“No one could have seen that coming.”
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough. Do you even know how it happened? When? Was he turned, or did he always belong to Richard Collins?”
The gruff man rubbed a hand over his face. “Those are questions we hope to ask him if he’s found.”
“When he’s found.”
“For someone who doesn’t trust what I’m saying, you’re putting an awful lot of faith in our teams.”
“I’m not talking about your teams,” I said coolly.
“He’ll work for us, Robbie will,” the gruff man said. “We ask that you keep us informed of any… changes.”
“Changes.”
“To your pack. Normally, when a pack adds members, there’s a vetting process. To avoid any chance of letting someone in who has other interests at heart.”
I blinked. “Was I vetted?”
“Partly. Mostly it was the word of Thomas. People usually didn’t say no to him. Even after he stepped down. He was… persuasive.”
That didn’t sit right. “You want control.”
“We want to be safe,” he countered. “There aren’t as many of us as there used to be. Things change. Attitudes change. If things kept going as they were, there’d be mostly bitten and not born. When a species is dying, everything must be done to preserve those that remain. This isn’t about control. It’s about survival.”
“Richard Collins doesn’t give two shits about that.”
“Richard Collins is a psychopath.”
“Fine,” I said. “Robbie can still report to you. But if you push him for things he shouldn’t be discussing, if you attempt to go behind my back—”
“Threats aren’t necessary,” the gruff man assured me. “Though
I would be lying if I said you’re not gonna get shit about this.”
I froze, but it was a small thing.
The gruff man caught it, though. He arched an eyebrow at me.
I cleared my throat. “How?”
“Others aren’t going to take kindly to a human Alpha. There is barely tolerance for bitten Alphas. But you? You’re human. Some will see it as a slap in the face. Others will think you’re lying.”
“Do you?”
He shook his head slowly. “Maybe before I got here. Maybe I’d heard the stories about you before, the human in the wolf pack. And maybe I didn’t necessarily believe everything I’d heard. Thomas always said how revered they should be, even after humans had tried to exterminate us. And yet he hid you from us. Not you specifically, no. We knew about you. But the fact that you were going to be mated to the future Alpha? He kept that from us. No one knew until Osmond came. We were… concerned.”
“Concerned enough to send a traitor and a handful of Betas without knowing who their loyalties were with.”
“We didn’t know he was—”
“No,” I said. “I get that. But it doesn’t seem like any of you know much about anything.”
“Be that as it may,” the gruff man said, “there will be pushback on this. On you. I’m convinced, because I’m here. In your territory. I can feel the way you’ve bonded with it, with your pack. But others won’t see that.”
“That’s not my problem. I’m not looking for tolerance. I just want everyone to leave my pack alone.”
“You should have chosen a different pack, then,” he said dryly. “Being a Bennett almost ensures you won’t be left alone. If this… goes on much longer, you’ll need to register. All Alphas must register with the head Alpha. It helps us keep track of the wolf population. To make sure Alphas aren’t building packs without our guidance.”
“If what goes on?”
“You. This. If Joe doesn’t return.”
“I can’t make new wolves,” I reminded him. “I’m still human.”
He watched me for a long time. It was unnerving how little he needed to blink. “That doesn’t mean you won’t draw them to you. You don’t need to bite them to make them yours. Robbie. The other humans. You can grow without ever having to be a wolf yourself.”
“You sound like I’m someone to be feared.”
“We don’t know what you are,” the gruff man said. “And there is always fear in the unknown.”
“He will.”
“What?”
“Joe. He’ll come back.”
“You have faith in him.” He sounded surprised.
And so I said, “Always.”
IT WAS enough of the truth that the gruff man didn’t catch it.
Because I did have faith in Joe.
But I thought maybe it was waning as the days went on.
ROBBIE WAITED nervously as the gruff man left, standing just beyond earshot. As soon as the car disappeared down the dirt road, he practically ran to my side. I could hear the others in the forest, the yips of Mark and Elizabeth, the laughter and shouts of Tanner and Chris and Rico.
“Well?” he demanded, wringing his hands, eyes darting to mine and then away.
“Well?” I teased.
“Ox!”
I rolled my eyes. “You can stay. You’ll still work for Alpha Hughes, but you can—”
“She’s not my Alpha,” he interrupted in a rush, eyes wide. “She isn’t—she can’t be my Alpha. Not like… okay. She just can’t.”
“Why?” I asked, curious. “I know you weren’t really a part of her pack. Or any pack, really. But you work for her. Why wouldn’t you be part of hers?”
“It never fit,” he said. “I never fit. Not with them. Even when other packs took me in after my mom died, it… it never felt right. They kept me safe. They kept me fed and clothed. They helped me through my grief, but I just… couldn’t. They asked me to stay. And I couldn’t. So when I came of age, I floated. I bounced around. And then Alpha Hughes asked me to do a job, and when she asks, you just do it. No questions asked. And I came here and did my job and it was fine, Ox, it was good. And even though you didn’t trust me for a long time, none of you did, I still felt more myself here than I’d felt since… I don’t even know.” By the time he was finished, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide and flickering orange. He sounded breathless, like he was afraid I was going to reject him where he stood.
“Robbie,” I said, oddly touched. “You’re going—”
“Because you’re my Alpha,” he blurted out. “You’re the only one I want to be my Alpha. Not anyone else. My wolf—just. You’re it, okay?”
So I said, “Okay, Robbie. Hey, it’s okay. You’re staying. With us. With me.”
He gaped at me. “Are you serious?”
I nodded.
The smile on his face was wide and blinding.
And even though I still felt a bit like a child playing dress-up, there was a pride there I didn’t know what to do with, even as I knew I didn’t want to let it go.
SHE STAYED away for a while, Jessie did.
Not that I could blame her.
I was only sixteen when I’d found out the truth, still young and naïve enough to believe in impossible things.
She wasn’t sixteen. She was in her twenties. Which meant she was cynical.
But I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t. She’d witnessed something most people wouldn’t have known what to do with. Wouldn’t have known how to process. She’d been taken and beaten, held hostage in a fight she had nothing to do with.
She’d been coming home from a night out with friends two towns over. They’d gone to a late dinner. Had a couple of drinks, but nothing where she couldn’t drive after.
She’d been coming back when she’d seen another car stopped on the side of the road, a woman standing in the dark by herself next to it. The emergency flashers blinking yellow.
She’d stopped. Because it had been the right thing to do. The woman was alone. And even though Green Creek was safe, Jessie said she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if she hadn’t stopped and later heard that it hadn’t been safe.
The woman had smiled at her. She’d said her car had broken down. And to top it all off, her cell phone was dead, could Jessie just believe her luck?
It’d happened swiftly. One moment she’d been walking toward the woman, and the next she’d been surrounded by people whose eyes glowed violet.
They’d hit her.
They’d made her bleed.
They hadn’t touched her, not… that way.
But her personal sense of self had still been violated.
She’d distanced herself from Chris. I’d rarely seen her as it was, but I knew she and Chris were close. The anger he’d felt after that night at the Omegas was stronger than I’d ever seen in him before. He threw himself into the training that followed, working until his muscles quivered and he dripped with sweat. I’d told him to stop, to take a break, to walk away if needed to. To ignore the pack and focus on Jessie if that’s what he thought was right.
He’d looked at me, stricken. “Are you telling me to leave?” he’d asked, voice small.
I hadn’t known the extent of my reach over them. Over the pack. I didn’t understand, not really, up until that moment. Because if I’d told him to leave, he would have. He would have left us and cared for his sister and stayed away from the pack because I’d told him to do so. And it would have hurt him, and me, in the process.
It was selfish. I should have told him to leave.
I didn’t.
I said, “No. No, I don’t want you to leave.”
He had relaxed and let out a long, slow breath.
SHE DID come back, though. During the summer.
The bell over the front door of the shop rang out.
I ignored it, focusing instead on the radiator fan I was trying to install. Robbie was at the front desk. For everyone’s sake, we’d agreed it’d be safer if he
was kept away from any and all tools, as he had a tendency to hurt himself and others if he came within a few feet of anything sharp. He answered the phones now. Dealt with the customers. Scheduled the appointments. People who came to the shop loved him, and he loved talking to them. It made life easier for all of us.
Until that day when I heard shrill, raised voices.
“I don’t care what the fuck you are, you will let me back there because I have something I need to say to them!”
“Look, lady—”
“It’s Jessie, you asshole.”
“Jessie, you can’t just—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, get the fuck out of my way.”
Chris sighed from the next auto bay over. “This isn’t going to go well. Knowing her, it’s been building up all this time.”
“Better you than me,” Tanner snorted.
“Actually, she’s probably gonna scream at alfa over here,” Rico said.
“What did I do?” I said with a groan.
“Jefe, what didn’t you do.”
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, setting the fan down. Then, in the same low voice, “Robbie, just let her back here.”
Robbie cut off midretort at the front of the office. I heard the door that led from the front reception to the shop slam open.
“Ox!” Jessie bellowed.
“This is going to be loud,” Chris said.
“Should we leave?” Tanner asked.
“Nah,” Rico said. “I want to watch what happens.”
“As your Alpha, I command you to save me,” I told them.
They just stared at me. Useless fucking pack.
Jessie was on a warpath, hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, face flushed, eyes bright. Robbie trailed warily after her, tense like he didn’t know if he should attack her if she got too close. I shook my head once at him, and he scowled over her shoulder at me before he went to stand with the others.
Jessie stopped right in front of me, mouth in a thin line. She still had that little freckle that I used to kiss. I don’t know why I focused on that.
She said, “You’re a fucking sack of shit.”
I sighed.