Alpha Ascendant: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure (Wolf Rampant Book 3)

by Aimee Easterling

  "It's what I've always been," Sarah replied evenly. Then malice entered her tone as she continued: "Just like you've always been a half-blood werewolf, not good enough to lick the soles of my shoes."

  An ominous silence fell across our gathering. Blaze and I were appalled at Sarah's poor taste, but David was apparently feeling something entirely different. The hand he'd placed on Fen's shoulder fell to his side as my cousin took a step away from the shifter he'd been courting for the last few weeks.

  "Is what she said true?" my cousin asked. "Are you a...a halfie?"

  Fen looked like she'd been slapped, and I would have given anything to spare her this public evidence of my cousin's old-fashioned sensibilities. I'd guessed he felt this way, but I hated to be proven right. Yes, David had enjoyed the female yahoo's company...but not so much that he was willing to overlook her tainted heritage.

  "It doesn't change who I am," Fen said to the shifter who had once seemed poised to become her mate. I'd never seen the female yahoo anything except strong, not even when another of my cousins had broken her arm in his lupine teeth and forced her to run for miles on three legs instead of four. But now she appeared young and scared. And when David moved away from her outstretched fingers, she winced as if she'd been struck.

  There's no point in drawing this out, my wolf told me. We lost. Sarah won. It's time to head to the Tribunal.

  I closed my eyes for a second to shut out Fen's pain, David's anger, and Sarah's fear. My wolf was right—I couldn't solve this. Not here. Not now. And Ember needed us to stand up for her in less than twelve hours in a location that was many miles distant.

  So I allowed my wolf to speak through my human mouth, drawing our confrontation to a close. "I was going to tell you that you're welcome at Haven if you ever need somewhere safe to stay," my wolf and I told Sarah, staring her down until the teenage shifter's inner wolf wilted beneath our combined anger. "But I can see you have no place in our pack."

  Then, turning our attention to Blaze, we finished: "You on the other hand, can come home anytime. But for now, we have other affairs to attend to."

  With a jerk of my chin, I gathered Fen and David to my side at last. Then, without another word, we shifted into wolf form and ran together back the way we'd come.

  ***

  Our return journey was much more subdued than our previous adventure, and I wasn't terribly surprised to find only two warm bodies waiting by our car when we got back to base camp. My father, Ethan explained, had been unable to stick out even one full night as leader of his pack of three and had headed home on lupine paws around dawn. Glancing at me for permission, David turned on his heel still clad in fur and followed the werewolf who used to be his alpha down the long road back to Haven.

  "No luck finding them?" Ethan asked as Fen and I slipped back into the clothes we'd left behind in the trunk of the car. I suspected my brother also wanted to ask why my companion was so grim, her usual welcoming banter replaced with a simple clasp of Ethan's hand before she pulled Ember up into her arms and turned away to face back into the trees. But after glancing between both of our faces, the teenager apparently decided it was better not to ask.

  Ethan would have been even more curious if he'd possessed the shifter ears that enabled me to make out the "Sorry" Fen whispered to our little wolfling as she strode away to begin dismantling Ethan's tent. And was that a tear trickling down the young woman's cheek?

  David had a lot to answer for, and I resolved to find a way to ease Fen's pain while mitigating her guilt at a later date. Our mission's failure and her parents' genetics hadn't been her fault at all. But right now we needed to get on the road if we didn't want to miss our appointment with Justin and the Tribunal.

  Sighing, I turned back to my brother and answered his question at last. "Oh, we found them, alright," I said, doing my best to keep my annoyance with Sarah in check. Looking over at the wolf pup who currently pulling herself up Fen's back with her claws, I kept my explanation simple. "But they chose not to help."

  I was in a hurry to get away from the bad feelings coating our campsite, so I'd already opened the car door when my wolf halted me in my tracks. Wait, she admonished. Look.

  And even though I wanted nothing more than to reach the peacekeeping grounds and put this whole sordid story behind us, I took the time to peer more closely at my brother. I'd learned the hard way to listen to my lupine half when she chose to give me advice, and once again the wolf had picked up on something my human brain had missed.

  Ethan was much more agitated than I'd initially thought, I saw now. Yes, he was abnormally jittery even for someone forced to spend the night wrangling a hyped up bloodling pup while attempting to bond with our slightly sadistic father.

  Just what I needed—another fire to put out before breakfast. But I let the car door swing shut behind me without stepping inside, and I instead stood waiting for my brother to speak.

  For all of the tough-guy image Ethan liked to project, I could tell he was afraid of whatever it was he had to say. Like me, he'd been raised with the Chief as his pack leader, which meant we were both used to verbal and physical slap downs if we so much as looked at an alpha the wrong way. Now that I was standing in our father's shoes, I shouldn't have been surprised that my brother was just as afraid of me as I'd once been when forced to admit to the Chief that I'd done something wrong.

  Cricket will be thrilled that I've finally gotten to the bottom of her son's erratic behavior, I thought as I waited. But does Ethan have to confess right now?

  Apparently he did. Standing to attention like a soldier, my brother did his best to look me directly in the eyes before his gaze slid away. Then he finally spoke. "I stole some F2F a few days ago," he mumbled, the words too quiet to be parsed by a human ear.

  Good thing you have me around to translate, my wolf chimed in.

  "Okay...." I responded. I had no idea where this was going, but Ethan clearly thought his confession was important enough to slow the start of our journey, so I kept an open mind and maintained an even tone. I had a feeling the least sign of disapproval would be enough to send my human brother scurrying for cover. "And...?" I said at last when he seemed unwilling to go on.

  "And I think it's probably easier to show you than to tell you," Ethan responded.

  Then, pulling a syringe out of his pocket, he flipped the plastic guard off the tip and plunged the point into the crook of his elbow. The motion was so practiced it was obvious the teenager had done this several times before, and I had a sudden vision of Ethan's ungainly walk and dilated pupils. Does F2F operate as a narcotic on humans who lack a wolf? I wondered.

  The issue appeared to be moot. Because, as my brother depressed the plunger, I learned that Ethan did indeed possess a lupine half. And that wolf seemed every bit as uncontrollable as you'd expect from a teenager after one of his first shifts.

  Chapter 11

  Ethan had clearly shifted before, but he must have done so deep in the woods or safe within the confines of his locked bedroom. Somewhere that his wolf hadn't felt threatened or challenged.

  Now, the beast before me snarled as he stared up at an alpha who he fully expected to hurl him to the ground with righteous indignation. It didn't help that Fen had spun around to take in the unexpected scene, her own lupine form half rampant behind her human eyes as she made a snap decision about the safest place to stash the wolfling in her arms. To a new wolf, her firm intent could easily be construed as menace.

  I was fully clothed, but I had a feeling only my own wolf would be able to calm Ethan before he did something we'd both regret. Whether that something would consist of taking to the woods and letting his lupine mind fully surpass his human brain or whether he'd stay and fight remained to be seen. But my wolf and I preferred not to wait for the expected drama to unfold.

  Instead, falling to the ground, my lupine half unfurled her claws and ripped through our clothes as we shifted. Shreds of cloth fluttered through the air like confetti, and we couldn't resist
howling in awe at our own skill. So that's what my beast busied her brain with planning when she was bored by the extensive time we spent in human form. Good job, wolf.

  But now wasn't the time to pat ourselves on the back. Our lupine vision tunneled in on the strange wolf who wasn't really a pack mate, at least not quite yet. We allowed one ear to twitch back, catching the sound as Fen quickly shed clothing and shifted to stand between us and the pup. Then we breathed out a pleased puff of air, knowing Ember would be protected no matter what went down. The reassurance gave us the ability to focus on what needed to be done.

  My brother's wolf had yet to choose his course of action. Instead, he stood poised, ears half pinned as if he wanted to submit to our alpha dominance but couldn't quite talk himself into letting down his guard. My human half well remembered how confusing it felt to shift to wolf form after a childhood spent on two feet, how scents and sounds were nearly overwhelming and how the wolf's brain pulled at human emotions. How we'd had to struggle valiantly in order to resist crouching down in instant submission each time an older and larger wolf strode past.

  But even at fifteen, Ethan's wolf was already bigger than mine. And for all my alpha dominance, my own lupine half was wholeheartedly female, aggressive only when pushed. So we paused and let my brother raise his nose to scent the air, taking in an aroma that would remind him of his own barely noticeable scent. He would be smelling our pride and excitement at sharing lupine form with a brother who we'd thought would always walk on two feet. Surely even Ethan's newborn wolf would know just by looking that I wasn't the pack leader our father had been.

  Like any good predator, my wolf and I understood how to stand stock still and wait out our prey's jitters. Yes, the clock was ticking down on our peacekeeping appointment, but my human brain remembered that we had an hour or so of wiggle room left while my wolf brain was wholeheartedly uninterested in anything except the present. Meanwhile, both of us understood that my brother's first entrance into pack society couldn't be rushed.

  He whined. The barest hint of sound, confusion given voice by wolf throat. Then, brave as any Wilder, Ethan padded toward us, his gaze skittering back and forth between our own and the surrounding scenery. The teenager's lupine half wouldn't allow him to lock eyes with a more dominant shifter, but his human half obviously couldn't resist checking our face for clues to future behavior.

  We made it as easy for him as we could. Cocking our head to one side and lolling out our tongue, we yipped joyously.

  Despite our best intentions, though, Ethan still jumped straight up in the air at the sound. Still, once his pads were on the earth once again, our brother continued his approach until he was so close we could feel his breath sliding across the sensitive skin of our nose.

  We raised our muzzle invitingly, and Ethan's wolf knew instinctively what to do. Reaching up, he paused in fear, then cautiously swiped one lick of his tongue beneath our chin. When we made no move to push him away, the younger wolf's eyes immediately squinted shut with relief and rapture and he continued laving our fur with enthusiasm.

  Despite the growing sogginess of my fur, I let him lick. After all, I knew exactly how good it felt for someone who'd considered himself a lone wolf to enter a pack for the first time. I knew because my human brain could feel the emotions roiling in our direction from my brother's mixed-up head.

  So the four of us wasted another few minutes dancing around the campsite, sidling, nudging, then leaping and bounding with wild abandon. Fen and Ember had joined in the fun, and we all ended up on the grass at last in a jumble of fur and carefully retracted claws, panting from pleasure and relief.

  I was the first to surge upward into human form, but Fen soon followed. "We have to go," I told Ethan regretfully, waiting for him to shift.

  But he didn't. Instead, our little wolf pup pattered off to the pile of clothes lying by the side of the car, grabbed a full syringe in tiny wolfling teeth, and ambled back in our direction. Clearly Ember had been in on Ethan's experiments from the start and knew he'd have the antidote on hand. Equally clearly, my brother was still unable to shift without the aid of drugs.

  Which left one of the big questions still wide open, even though Ethan's brave actions had put a second worry to bed. Yes, it was safe for a shiftless werewolf to use F2F to change forms. But whether the drug would impact Ember's ability to transform at will in the future remained to be seen.

  Well, I can't expect my brother to take the entire load of decision-making off my shoulders, I thought wistfully. Even proving the safety factor was a huge stride forward. It would have to be enough.

  "Do you want me to inject you?" I asked Ethan, crouching down so I was at his eye level. "Or would you rather see if an alpha command would do the trick?"

  My brother had been attempting to wedge the syringe up against a tent stake with his ungainly lupine paws, clearly expecting no aid with his return transformation. But now he looked up and I could see his wolf breathing in my scent once again as he considered his options.

  An alpha's compulsion could be painful, as I well knew, especially if the shifter in question was struggling against the required action made mandatory by the pack leader's bark. But the command could also feel nearly orgasmic when an alpha helped an underling achieve a mental state that he had been unable to attain on his own. I'd experienced both sides of the equation firsthand and couldn't help remembering exactly how exhilarating Wolfie's command had been as I struggled with my own wolf just eight months earlier.

  And I also couldn't help remembering how angry I'd been to lose control over my own body at the same alpha's bark upon our first meeting.

  So I fully expected the sullen teenager who I'd met just a few weeks earlier to refuse my aid. Chances were good Ethan wouldn't even allow me to inject the remedy into his veins since he'd obviously managed the return journey on his own at least once before.

  Have a little faith, my wolf chided as I prepared to rise back to my feet.

  So I waited. And felt joy nearly as boundless as the emotion Wolfie had given me when my brother lifted his paw in an emulation of Ember's puppy sign language and patted me gently on the chest.

  "Shift," my wolf and I said together. And, moments later, our brother stood before us in human form, breathless and rumpled but with the biggest smile I'd ever seen spread across his face.

  ***

  "I hope you know how proud I am of you," I told my brother hours later as he squeezed packet after packet of fast-food ketchup into our wolfling's gaping maw during our last stop before reaching the Tribunal's peacekeeping grounds. It turned out that ketchup slowed the effects of F2F while also lessening the after-headache, proving that Cricket's instincts about Ethan's dining habits had been spot on after all.

  Luckily, my own instincts that a brave young man lurked beneath the tattooed body of my little brother were right as well. I could barely imagine how much strength of will it must have taken to inject himself with Dale's drug the first time, not knowing whether he would die, would wind up stuck in wolf form for the rest of his life, or would be entirely unaffected by the cocktail. Words alone seemed like too little recognition of my brother's courage, but I figured I had to at least try to acknowledge his sacrifice.

  Ethan smiled up at me in response and I could see the teenager's wolf alert behind his eyes for the first time. Despite their traumatic morning, the beast was calm and centered, so much like my mate's that I felt a prickling of tears behind my own eyes.

  I'd called Wolfie one last time that morning, but had once again received no reply. My inner wolf maintained that our mate was merely outside the bounds of cell-phone signals, but I was less sanguine about his silence. Because as much as I hated to doubt our bond, I couldn't help wondering whether my refusal of a claiming moon piling on top of my choice to forcibly shift our adopted daughter had been the last straw that tore our relationship asunder. Would Wolfie still be my mate when I saw him next?

  But now wasn't the time to worry about my own woes. Em
ber's little belly bulged with ketchup, we were a five-minute drive from the peacekeeping grounds, and I knew we had to time our entrance carefully. A forced shift might not count as proof of our wolfling's majority, so we'd keep the impetus of Ember's transformation on the down-low. Instead, Ethan would inject Ember as we pulled into the parking area and the pup would shift as the two of us sat down in front of the Tribunal.

  Or so we hoped. Ethan had warned that it was better for Ember not to change form more than once every twenty-four hours, not if we didn't want a vomiting, feverish wolfling on our hands. So we couldn't test the hypothesis that F2F would work on our bloodling, we had no idea if Ember's transformation time line would be similar to what Ethan had experienced, and we couldn't know if dangerous side effects would pop up right in front of our foe.

  We've planned as much as we can, my wolf said simply. Let's go.

  So we piled back into the car for the last leg of our journey. Fen was silent beside me in the front seat, having refused to talk about my faithless cousin and instead drawing deeper within herself with each mile separating her from her potential mate. And as much as I wanted to help the young woman work through her pain, I knew Fen would be the first one to tell me that her emotions didn't matter. Not right now when I had to remain focused on pulling the wool over the eyes of some of the strongest werewolves in the eastern United States.

  The peacekeeping grounds lay in outpack territory, roughly equidistant between all of the territories that the Tribunal oversaw. To the human eye, the area looked like nothing more than a large hay field, infrequently mowed save for several long paths that wound deep into the center. There, hidden within the tall grass, the most powerful alphas from each All-Pack gathering waited to decide whether Ember could stay at Haven or would be forced to return with her father to Clan Young.