Behind the Beginning (Becoming the Wolf Book 1)

by T. S. Joyce

  “Grey?” Marissa asked softly.

  Grey had been sitting at the table staring off into space, looking for an excuse to go to Morgan.

  “Hmm?” he asked absently.

  “Sometimes werewolves are very angry when they’re born.”

  He frowned. An eighteen-year-old shouldn’t know this stuff. “Yeah?”

  “So she shouldn’t see you, but…well…would you like me to go sit with her so she isn’t alone?” She shrugged. “I’m good at this stuff. I’m kind of invisible to werewolves sometimes. Too submissive and all.”

  Grey nodded. “Actually, yeah. That would ease my mind. Can you tell us the second she Changes back?”

  “Of course.” She dipped her gaze to the napkin in her hands that she was shredding. “You can trust me.”

  There was truth to her admission, and he watched her get up without another word and walk straight out the front door to go to Morgan.

  “Let’s clean up and meet in the library,” Dean said quietly to Grey and Wade. “Go dig into some research on some of the Silver Wolf Clan legends.”

  Twenty minutes later, Grey was showered, dressed, hair damp and scouring his first book at a table with a stack of literature, and Wade and Dean sitting across from him.

  They found nothing in the first three hours of scouring every page on every ancient-looking text on werewolves. It was bullshit and felt like a massive waste of time when Wolf was chanting Go to her, go to her, go to her again.

  Some of the literature on his kind echoed true, but most seemed to be myth. There were hundreds of years of rumors on these old pages.

  “This isn’t helping,” Grey growled, slamming a book closed.

  Dean set his book to the side and opened up the next one on a stack beside him. “Not all of these will be full of facts. Alphas have a tendency to hoard any history they can find about werewolves. Sometimes we get a new wolf who needs to see and read this stuff to understand the life they’ll be living. Most alphas keep copies and original books they’ve collected through the years so they are available to their pack if they need them.”

  Wade tried to find information on Silver Wolf Clan legends on the computer, but found a modern group of internet gamers under the same name and that was about it. After they’d studied everything on the bookshelves, Dean moved the shelves aside, revealing a four-foot-wide metal safe door. He unlocked it and pulled out more ancient looking texts, then handed them to Grey and Wade to stack on the huge desk they’d been reading around. “We keep this stuff locked up because if someone came in here and read any of the books on the bookshelf, they’d think, ‘okay, wolf fanatics.’ The literature in the safe screams something darker is going on in this house, though.”

  The books smelled old and musty. Even though they looked to be well preserved, the dampness of old pages and aged ink scents lingered on the ancient texts. The first had an ink block drawing of a fearsome wolf-like creature on the cover. Its front paw rested on a bloodied human body and it lifted its head to the night sky, howled at the moon.

  Grey ran his fingertips over the cover. The image raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck. The monster depicted here reminded him of Wolf.

  Go to her.

  Marissa peeked her head into the doorway. “I brought lunch.”

  Grey perked up. “Is she okay?”

  Marissa nodded. “She’s still a wolf.”

  With a frown furrowing his dark eyebrows, Dean told her, “I said no one should be around Morgan right now.”

  She twitched her head toward Grey. “He said it was okay if I watch over his mate.”

  Dean didn’t say anything, just tossed Grey a surprised look as Marissa set a tray of sandwiches on the table in front of them.

  “Okay, I guess that’s all right,” Dean murmured. “Marissa?” he said as she made her way out of the room.

  “I won’t say anything about her color,” she blurted out, her cheeks turning red. “I know what it means,” she said quieter. “I won’t say anything.” You can trust me.

  Dean looked over at Grey like he’d grown a third eye.

  “What?” he muttered, flipping to the next page in his boring-ass book.

  “Oh, nothing. Except, Marissa never talks to anyone,” he said with a baffled grin. “Up until yesterday, she was terrified of you, and I just watched that girl come in here and talk to you and set a tray of food right in front of you. What the fuck did you do, Wizard.”

  “I’m not that scary,” he said, twirling a pencil absently.

  “Oh bullshit,” Wade said. “You’re a motherfuckin’ monster and everyone can feel it.”

  “Yeah well, Marissa is a tough kid.”

  “Okay here’s something.” Dean put his half-eaten ham sandwich on his plate. “It says here the Silver Wolf Clan legend hails from seventeenth to early eighteenth century France. The bulk of the stories originate from a family named Dubois. The family ran a huge winery and also a glass making shop. Only family worked there and no visitors were allowed on the property. The population numbered in the hundreds at one point…yada, yada.” He skimmed a couple pages. “Okay, it was said that the Dubois family was actually a huge clan of werewolves unlike anything anyone had seen. The wolves’ coloring varied only slightly, but all of them were white, and the females had light blue or light purple eyes. Legend says these were the only genetic werewolves because the females were sometimes able to breed and bear children. Such an emphasis was placed on breeding, their numbers became too great for the winery and the territory to sustain. Because of this, Silver Wolf Clan females branched out and moved away to other packs to breed and bear children with mates they’d chosen. Most of the offspring still carried the Silver Wolf coloring. Each Silver Wolf female is said to have been coveted and respected because of the offspring she could potentially have. Due to the breeding years being lengthened and gestational cycle only being nine weeks like a regular wolf, a Silver Wolf breeder could bear many children, which boosted the population. Sometime around their peak numbers, humans caught wind something unnatural was going on at the winery, and they started watching it. The idea of the werewolf was common in France at the time, and when the humans realized what they had, they attacked the winery, burning and killing most of the Silver Wolves. Oh my God,” he murmured.

  “What?” Grey asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

  “Men, woman, and children…” Dean looked up at him and such sadness swam in his green eyes. “All murdered.”

  “Shit,” Grey whispered, feeling like he wanted to retch.

  Dean’s eyes went wide and he leaned forward. “Listen to this. At the time, vampires—yep, I said freaking vampires—were struggling to assimilate to a changing world and had been watching the Silver Wolves’ numbers, because the vampire numbers were way down. They couldn’t start a war on them because they didn’t have enough man power, so when the humans attacked the winery, wiping out most of them, vampires were given the order to find any and all remaining Silver Wolves and kill them. This included the females who’d moved to other packs and their children. Vampires murdered entire packs to make sure they were rid of every last Silver Wolf, so they would never have to worry about vampires and werewolves being so unbalanced again.” Dean closed the book, and rubbed his eyes like a headache was forming. “Son of a bitch.”

  Grey leaned back in the chair and stretched his long legs out then rubbed his hands through his hair, agitated. “Alright, so obviously somehow one of the Silver Wolves survived. Or it could have been one of their offspring? Maybe one didn’t have the coloring of the Silver Wolf, but still had the genetics to pass it on? If they were a breeder? God that word is weird. They were people. Living, breathing, feeling people, but vampires just saw them as a threat.”

  “Yeah, but then how was Morgan human until yesterday?” Dean asked. “She should have been a Silver Wolf from birth, right?”

  Wade stood and stretched then sat on the edge of the desk. “Okay, obviously normal werewolves can�
�t reproduce, not even with humans, but if this Silver Wolf Clan was able to breed with other werewolves, who’s to say they couldn’t breed with humans, too? Maybe that’s how the vampires missed one. Possibly one of them found a human mate and took themselves off the vamp’s radar. That would at least create a human-werewolf hybrid, and if you breed enough human into the line through the generations, maybe they wouldn’t be able to Change anymore, right?”

  The mass of information was overwhelming, but something deep seated clicked into place for Grey. A little inkling of rightness. “From the moment I smelled Morgan, I noticed something different about her that called to me. Logan even smelled it last night, remember? He couldn’t keep her nose out of her hair. It’s something I’ve never been able to put my finger on, underneath all her other scents. Faintly of animal, of wolf. I thought she had a pet when I first met her, but she doesn’t. It’s in her blood. She has to be a Silver Wolf, right? She has Dubois blood. Why else would she look like she does?”

  “We could go even further and wonder if this is why she hasn’t Changed back yet,” Dean said. “Maybe her wolf has been locked away her entire life and she needs time out. She should have Changed back already, but Morgan doesn’t even know what’s happening. She should have been aware of her human side under normal circumstances, or at least been able to figure it out. I don’t think her wolf and her human even know the other exists yet. There’s no telling when she’ll decide to Change back.”

  “I need a beer,” Grey muttered.

  “I’ll do you one better.” Dean grabbed a bottle of Makers Mark and three glasses from behind a few logo and font books on one of the shelves.

  “You hiding that from your boozehound wife?” Wade deadpanned as he poured the shots.

  Dean flipped him off and turned to Grey. “He knows she would never touch the stuff. I hide it for when Marissa brings friends over in the future. I remember myself at that age. If there was whiskey sitting out, Wade and I would get into it and start trouble.”

  Grey needed a momentary escape from the cache of information they’d stumbled upon and the quiet, scar-faced wolf’s story was as good a distraction as any. “So you two grew up together?”

  “Believe it or not, Wade is my little brother,” Dean said laughing at the man with the six-foot-two frame towering over his own five-foot-eleven height. “Or I guess I should say, younger brother.”

  “How’d that happen?” Grey asked. “I thought you said werewolf wasn’t normally genetic.”

  “No, but dumbass is. I was bitten when I was hanging out with the wrong crowd in my younger days. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Wade didn’t want me to go through it alone, so he asked me to bite him too. Bet you regret that one, don’t you?”

  Wade took his shot neatly and nodded. “So many regrets.”

  Grey downed the burning liquid then grimaced. “The whole, vampires killing the rest of Morgan’s ancestors off in the first place—that scares me. Are vampires real? I mean, are they around enough to be a threat?”

  “Rumor has it they exist, but I’ve never met one myself,” Dean admitted. “I definitely don’t want any present-day vampires to find out about her existence. I don’t know how long their memory stretches. Hell, there’re probably still vampires around today who lived during the Silver Wolf clan’s rise and fall. Honestly? With all this new information? I don’t want to even tell other packs.” He arched his eyebrows. “Morgan’s rare. She’ll be coveted, and there’ll be fights for her, especially when you haven’t claimed her yet. Even after you do, you’ll be challenged for her. Dominant, possessive, territorial werewolves on the hunt for a trophy mate will be trouble for you always. If she turns out to be a breeder, I think all hell would break loose and she’d need protection. Now, you’re a Ripper, Grey, and that’s lucky for her, but even so, you can’t fight them all alone.”

  “What about Lana? Wade asked quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Dean asked.

  “I mean, how long is it going to take for someone else to figure out she has Silver Wolf genetics if Morgan does? Even if she isn’t her biological daughter, Lana is blood-related. A little female Silver Wolf pup? It won’t take long for wolves to wonder when she’ll be Turned and who she’ll be promised to. Sorry to bring it up, Grey, but it’s something you’ll have to deal with sooner or later.”

  Grey’s heart dropped right through his diaphragm. Lana. There was a possibility she would be a Silver Wolf too. So much danger. Fuckin’ Alexis. He should’ve never brought them here. No one ever should’ve figured out they had Silver Wolf blood because Morgan wasn’t supposed to have been Turned. She and her little girl were in real danger because of his decision to let them into this life.

  I’ll kill anyone who pressures her to turn, Wolf snarled inside of his mind. I’ll kill anyone who threatens them. They’re mine.

  Dean huffed out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “Everything is going to be all right, Grey. No one is more suited to this task than you. You were created to protect them. I knew a wolf like you was meant for something big. You’re dominant, focused, driven, protective, and you’ll be the size of a fuckin’ tank if you can keep your nutrition up. You are their best chance of staying safe. You’re gonna have to step up and take on a role as alpha. Start a pack for Morgan and Lana. I’ll call a Dallas Pack meeting. If we all agree, I’d like to offer Morgan and Lana our protection as well. This feels big, Grey. Silver Wolves and vampires and how everything happened? Feels important and I don’t want you to feel alone in it. I know we can’t ever officially be in the same pack. Too many chiefs, as they say,” he said with a tired smile. “But I don’t know why our packs couldn’t support each other. It’s never been done before as far as I know, two packs working so closely together, but there are benefits for both parties, I think. Morgan and Lana? We care about them, and they could also benefit from our protection and friendship, especially if it would help keep them safe.”

  The idea rankled Wolf that he alone couldn’t protect them, but Dean had just offered him a plan B. He would die to keep them safe, but they needed some place safe to land if anything ever happened to him. Grey nodded. “If your pack agrees, an alliance would be fine with me.”

  So okay, an alliance. Two dominant-as-hell alphas working for the same goal—Morgan and Lana’s safety.

  The Silver Wolf Clan had been reborn tonight, and two separate packs of werewolves were going to work together.

  Apparently, they were going to make history twice in one day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She was starving. The water had only taken the edge off her hunger, and now her stomach growled loudly. Today had lasted two years, and she was utterly confused by everything, and exhausted. The tiredness down to her bones frustrated her. Maybe she was sick or something.

  The door creaked open and Scar Face Wade appeared, nodded once to her as he stepped aside. Behind him came a huge black wolf followed. He was massive and took up over half the damn doorframe. He would tower over her if she were willing to get close enough to the edge of the cage to size him up. He had a deep chest and his winter coat was thick with ebony black fur, which only added size to him. His eyes gleamed gold, the color blazing even brighter when it was surrounded by fur as black as tar. He hesitated at the door, and she immediately got a whiff of something delicious.

  He stepped in, and Scar Face shut the door behind him. The black wolf walked slowly, as if he tried not to scare her, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the limp rabbit he carried in his mouth. He inched closer to the cage, dropped the rabbit and nudged it through the bars with his nose. And then he stepped back, sat down, and waited. Her nails clicked on the cement floor as she moved forward. Gingerly, she picked up the rabbit, never taking her eyes from the wolf, and took it to the back of the cage, where she ripped fur off its belly.

  The she-wolf in the other cage whined. Faster than she’d even thought possible, the black wolf was at the front of her bars with his head d
own, teeth bared, low growls and menace emanating from him. The she-wolf cowered, slunk back to the far corner, as far from both of them as she could get. Raw waves of power rolled off him. Huh. An alpha.

  Morgan cowered, but not out of fear. Out of respect. She would be well beneath him in a pack, so she was showing him she understood her rank.

  He didn’t treat her the way he treated the other she-wolf. To her, he was kind. He’d brought her a rabbit. After the last piece of meat slid down her throat and she was satisfied, Morgan looked around for something to rub her face on to clean it. The black wolf lay near the cage with his head on his paws and let out a quiet whine. She looked at him and cocked her head. Slowly, she approached him, put her nose between the bottom bars as she lay down. Okay now? She would fully admit she was scared. This wolf was powerful and capable of great violence, and could rip her face off before she could get away if he wanted to.

  But…

  His body language said she was safe.

  The black wolf slid on his belly, slowly, closer and closer to where she lay. She shook as he approached. A whine clawed up the back of her throat, but in his amber colored eyes, there was nothing but softness there. He closed the rest of the gap and stretched out, and slowly licked her muzzle. He was cleaning her after her meal. And as seconds ticked by, she relaxed because he was doing something important. His dominance and power didn’t feel overwhelming anymore. They covered her in a warmth, like a blanket of safety. She’d felt this feeling before but couldn’t remember from where. When at last he finished cleaning her muzzle, he sighed loudly and lay on his side, nose close to hers. It was the first moment that made any sense to her today.

  And they drifted off to sleep there, almost, but not quite, touching.

  ****

  Morgan jerked awake at the sound of the door opening, but the black wolf was already looking behind him. He sat up and watched the quiet man, Dean, who approached with a bundle in his hands.