Frustrated by this strange development, the four men grew agitated, belligerent, aggressive. The owner of the tavern, usually a friend happy to see Reardon’s army, suggested they leave. When the tavernkeeper’s request was met with saliva-ridden snarls, Reardon stood and took control.
“Lads, we have spent enough time here.” He scratched at his left ear where the tip was missing, sliced away in battle a few years ago. “Let us get some fresh air into our lungs.”
At the sound of his voice—their Alpha’s voice—the men abandoned their empty mugs and half-eaten meals and preceded him out of the tavern. Reardon sent the tavernkeeper an apologetic glance before stepping out into the warm night. He led the men to the shore where their ships still bobbed.
“My skin feels wrong,” Kole said, scratching at the back of his neck as he walked.
His brother, Shawn, nodded. “As if it can no longer contain my insides.”
Erik grunted his agreement, and Reardon regarded his comrades, guilt tiptoeing back to him, squashing the high of victory he’d been enjoying.
“It is the change, my friends,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Kole asked.
“He means your intellect is no longer in control.” Jaemus folded his arms across his chest. “Our wolf selves are closer to the surface. Our needs are more feral. We are part animal now.”
Reardon didn’t miss the glare in his brother’s eyes. Of all the men, Jaemus had been the least vocal since their alteration. Reardon knew for a fact that a quiet Jaemus was an angry Jaemus. As youngsters, whenever he and Jaemus had a brothers’ spat, Jaemus would always stalk off to be by himself before seeking Reardon out again to unleash his fury. Being the older, larger brother, Reardon had always been able to handle Jaemus.
The expression on his brother’s face right now, however, represented untamed fury, volatile and abundant.
“Riches, drink, food,” Jaemus continued through teeth already lengthening, “are not enough anymore. We crave other things now.”
“What other things?” Shawn asked as he raked his clawed fingers through his wild hair.
“Flesh.” When Reardon had shifted that first time after the ceremony, his father had been ready with a freshly slaughtered cow. He’d greedily torn meat from bone, not quite able to get his fill. Over time, though, his hunger had lessened and he’d learned to control himself. He’d show his men how to do the same.
“We trusted you, Reardon,” Kole said around a low growl.
Guilt was done tiptoeing. It now marched directly over Reardon and punched him. Repeatedly. Kole was right. His men had always trusted him not only to find the lucrative contracts, but to protect them both on and off the battlefield.
And he’d betrayed that trust by making one decision. He’d like to think it wasn’t a selfish decision, but hadn’t he been angry about possible surrender? Hadn’t his pride been poked with sword tips? Hadn’t he acted only to preserve their record of victory, their fame?
All egotistical reasons for what he’d done.
“You can control your wolf sides,” he said.
“We shouldn’t have wolf sides,” Jaemus said. “You’ve set us on a path to Hell.”
Reardon clenched his teeth, a sudden spark of fury awakening his own wolf. “What happened to the loyalty in battle you all displayed in Spain?” They had been willing to accept him as their Alpha. They’d heeded his suggestion to leave the tavern only moments ago. Why the sudden change?
“Wolfmen make sense in the heat of the fight,” Erik said. “When we don’t have swords in our hands and enemies in range, we are no more than savages.”
Reardon marched up to Erik, a vein in his neck pulsing as his anger grew. “We were already savages, Erik. Think about what we do.” He stepped back and threw his arms out to encompass the gathered men. “We kill for profit. We fight simply because kings tell us to and can pay us handsomely. Then we are able to close our eyes at night and sleep as if we hadn’t taken human lives. If that is not savage, I don’t know what is. I merely gave you extra weapons to do the work we do. Claws, teeth, animal instincts. You are better soldiers because of what I’ve done.”
It was a good speech, but not one Reardon entirely believed. True, he’d given these men something, but was it something they’d wanted? No. He hadn’t wanted it when he was a boy crossing the threshold to manhood.
Or wolfhood as it were.
“Can’t you take what you’ve done back?” Kole asked. “Undo it.”
Reardon shook his head. “I’m afraid once the transformation has occurred, it can’t be undone.”
“So we are destined to be like this for the rest of our lives?” Kole rubbed his temples as if an ached plagued him there. Headaches were common in the beginning. Reardon’s headaches had sent him deep into the woods in search of dark places to recover after he’d first changed.
He opened his mouth to reply, but a near-blinding flash of light caused all of them to shield their faces.
A moment later, a powerful female voice echoed through the night. “Reardon McAlator, your gift was not yours to share like this.”
Despite the incredible strength resonating in the voice, Reardon fisted his hands by his sides and yelled, “Gift? More like a curse!”
Another bolt of light crashed down among the men, causing the human soldiers to flee.
“Now you question me? I am Flidae, goddess of wild things, and you’ve made a grave mistake, wolf!”
Chapter Two
“C’mon, girl.” Wildlife biologist Dr. Brandy Wendon wiggled cubes of meat at the opening of the cage. The door was wide open and a beautiful female wolf was pressed to the back of it, wary golden eyes watching Brandy’s every move. “You can trust me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.”
Since the opening of Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary seven years ago, Brandy had collected a pack of fifteen wolves which she cared for, observed, and studied with an undying fascination. The sanctuary sat on six hundred acres of remote woods in Canville, Vermont where the wolves—most in residence due to injury or illness—could roam and live in a natural yet monitored setting.
Brandy loved every single day. How many people could say that about their work? Not many, and she knew it. This life of hers was a dream.
Well, the working with wolves part anyway. Other areas of her life didn’t always go as planned, but she’d learned to roll with the punches.
“Mom!” Ten-year old Dylan came barreling into the kennel, which meant it was about 3:30 in the afternoon. Where did the time go each day? Hadn’t she just put him on the school bus?
“Over here.” She put the meat pieces into a container and stood so Dylan could find her among the rows of kennels. This main facility on the sanctuary housed a veterinary services clinic, the kennels, a classroom, a library Brandy’s mother, Meredith, a retired librarian, oversaw, a research lab, and a viewing room with a big window out into the woods so children on field trips to the sanctuary could catch a glimpse of these gorgeous wolves.
“Guess what?” Dylan dropped his backpack and weaved his way over to her.
As Brandy watched the boy, her heart squeezed in her chest the way it always did when she remembered her twin sister, Diane—the one who’d actually given birth to Dylan. The one who had died due to complications during labor. The one who had dreamed up this sanctuary idea with Brandy when they were in college. The one who should be running the place with her now.
“What, baby?” Brandy ruffled Dylan’s blond hair when he reached her. The boy knew Brandy was actually his aunt, but she was also the only mother he’d ever known and the title Mom had come naturally. Though she missed her twin sister terribly, she loved having Dylan in her life, loved caring for him along with her wolves. Without him and her mother, living in the log cabin house on the sanctuary’s property would be quiet… and lonely.
“You owe me a new comic book because I got an A+ on my science report!” The smile on Dylan’s face lit up the room. “You were right.
A project on animal communication totally got Mrs. Gruper’s attention.”
“I am right now and then, and there’s a new comic book already on your desk in your bedroom.”
Dylan pumped a fist in the air, his smile growing even more luminous. The kid ate comic books in his spare time and would do anything to get new ones—even put extra effort into a science report.
Brandy dropped a kiss on Dylan’s forehead and warmed when the boy threw his arms around her waist for a hug. At ten, he’d probably be putting the brakes on hugging her pretty soon so she relished every embrace, just in case. She had no other source of hugs at the moment. She’d tried to find a source a few times, but her luck in the man department was… non-existent. Either she was terrible at sniffing out jerks or the world was filled with jerks. Her research into that matter was inconclusive.
Dylan turned in her arms to face the kennel and the wolf still cowering at the back of it, her ears flat, her eyes darting around the room. “How is Nymph?”
“We should have named her Stubborn.” Brandy sighed. “She doesn’t even want to come out for this meat.”
“Maybe she wants barbecue sauce on it.” Dylan giggled as Brandy poked him in the ribs.
“Wise guy.” She closed Nymph’s kennel, planning to try again in about an hour. This particular wolf had come to her from Michigan with a serious intestinal infection. Brandy and her partner at the sanctuary, veterinarian Dr. Parker Daniels—one of the few non-jerk men she’d met—had taken care of that issue, but getting this gorgeous lady to eat was still a challenge. If they could get her to do that, she’d be able to actually return to the wild at some point. Most of the wolves had come to Brandy with injuries or conditions too serious to allow reintroduction, but Nymph didn’t fall into that category.
She fell into the anxious-as-hell category.
“Where’s Gram?” Dylan asked.
“Most likely waiting for you in the library with some delicious snack.” Brandy gestured to the clinic wall adjacent to the sanctuary’s library where Meredith held story hours on a regular basis, did wolf-themed crafts with school groups, and assisted wildlife biology college majors hunting for research materials.
“I hope the snack is brownies.” Dylan grabbed his backpack.
“Is it ever brownies?”
Dylan shook his head. “Probably carrot sticks or apple slices.”
Meredith was famous for trying to get them all to eat healthier. Not that the Wendons made a habit of binging on junk food, but both Dylan and Brandy—and Diane—had an intense love of sweets.
“Gram just wants you to grow up to be strong and fit.” Brandy pointed down to Dylan’s sneaker which was untied per usual.
He kneeled to tie it. “So I can run around the woods with these wolves all day.”
“Exactly.” She loved that Dylan had such an interest in wolves. She had no doubt he’d keep the sanctuary going when she no longer could. Diane would be so proud of him.
Dylan stood and walked to the door that led to the library next door. “See you later, Mom.”
She waved, but he was already through the door in search of his grandmother. Brandy turned back to Nymph. “Okay, you get another forty-five minutes to hang out and then this meat is getting inside you, lady.” She wagged a finger at the petite brown wolf then grabbed the bin containing more meat pieces. This girl may not be interested, but fourteen other wolves at the sanctuary would jump at the chance to feed.
Pushing open the door, she headed outside. Five wolves immediately greeted her, knowing exactly what she had in the bin.
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Let’s remember our manners, shall we?”
Albi, Bele, and Nuno, three of the gray wolves at the sanctuary, pushed their noses into the bin while Lug, a brown wolf, and Dragon, a black one, sat on their haunches, perfectly willing to wait their turn… as long as their turn came quickly.
She tossed meat out to the hungry wolves then wandered a little deeper into the woods until she found Sirona and Arawn, the other two black wolves, perched on a rocky outcropping. They picked their way down the hill to retrieve the meat cubes she left for them. Those two were inseparable and even though Arawn was missing a front right paw, that didn’t keep him from following Sirona everywhere.
I wouldn’t mind an attractive male following me everywhere.
But the only male that hung around the sanctuary was Parker. He and Brandy had gone to college together and had tried the whole relationship thing. It hadn’t been a love connection. Not the one either of them had been hoping for anyway. They’d connected in about a million other ways—both were wildlife biology majors—but a heat did not exist between them, and they’d each decided that was fine.
They’d gone into business together instead with Parker joining the sanctuary staff as a consulting veterinarian. He’d seen to the conditions of each wolf at Silver Moon and checked in on them on a regular basis. He also taught a college class and used the sanctuary as a practicum location for his budding wildlife biologists so they could get some hands-on experience with live animals in need of real care.
She loved having Parker around. He was a great friend, an excellent vet, and a wonderful role model for Dylan, who Brandy often worried was missing out by not having a father in the picture. Parker filled the vacancy nicely by giving Dylan attention. He’d taken him camping, let him assist when examining recuperating wolves, and hosted science-fiction/fantasy movie nights on a regular basis. Just last weekend, they’d done a Star Wars marathon and the opening music had been stuck in Brandy’s head ever since. Parker also fed Dylan’s comic book addiction with his collection of Marvel and DC comics which he let the boy drool over every now and again.
Things were good. They really were. Sure, Brandy hadn’t had an adult relationship in a long, long time, but she was filling her life with experiences that were just as meaningful, just as fulfilling. Being a mom to her sister’s son had been an unexpected situation, but she loved Dylan as if she’d given birth to him herself. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it.
She could, however, imagine someone of the tall, dark, and handsome variety in her life.
“Keep dreaming, sister.”
She portioned out the rest of the meat and watched for a few silent moments as the last group of wolves tore into their dinner. Brandy loved being with the wolves. Her connection to them was something tangible. She actually preferred their company over most humans.
When he’d finished his meal, Lug wandered over to her and pushed his big head into her kneecap.
“What’s up, boy?” She reached down and scratched at the wolf’s ears. Dylan had named him Lug, as in you big lug, because the wolf was clumsy but super affectionate. He had the sweetest disposition, especially for a wolf that had nearly died on the exam table about two years ago.
A farmer in Idaho had caught Lug scoping out his cattle and hadn’t thought twice about yanking out his shotgun and drilling the wolf full of bullets. Miraculously, Lug had not been killed by the onslaught, but he was in rough shape. A small conservation group in the area had contacted Brandy and she and Parker flew out to assess the wolf’s condition. By the grace of Mother Nature, they’d been able to remove all the bullets and Lug’s will to live had been strong.
When they’d come back to the sanctuary with him, Dylan had taken one look at the goofy wolf and dubbed him Lug. Brandy swore the wolf had healed faster thanks to Dylan’s friendship, corny as that sounded.
“Did you enjoy your dinner, boy?” She gave Lug a few more minutes of petting and laughed when he took the end of her T-shirt between his teeth and gently tugged. “Want me down at your level?” She crouched and Lug instantly got to his back on the ground, exposing his belly for a rub. Sometimes Brandy wondered if the wolf wasn’t more dog than anything else. The interesting thing about Lug was she’d tried to release him back into the true wild, three times, but he wouldn’t go. He ran after her SUV every time they’d attempted to let him go.
&
nbsp; “He knows he’s got a good thing at the sanctuary,” Parker had said.
Though her mission was to keep wolf numbers up in the wild, Lug had wormed his way into her heart and Dylan loved him too. After the third failed attempt to release, she’d decided to keep him. He repaid her by keeping an eye on the rest of the pack. It was a good deal.
“Okay, boy.” She patted Lug one final time and rose to standing. “I have to try feeding Nymph once more. Want to come?”
As if understanding, Lug fell into step beside her as she navigated through the woods back toward the main facility. Meredith and Dylan came out the library door and Lug immediately jogged toward Dylan.
“Everyone all fed?” Meredith gestured to the bin Brandy carried.
Brandy pointed to the kennel windows. “All but one.”
“Ah, Nymph still resisting?”
“Yup.”
“Maybe she wants barbecue sauce on her chicken,” Meredith said.
Dylan burst into laughter. “Oh, Gram! I said the same thing.”
“Did you now? Well, clearly you are a comedian like your dear old granny.” She hooked her arm around Dylan’s shoulders and squished him against her until the boy squirmed.
“Don’t quit your day jobs. Either of you.” Brandy pointed at each of them then led everyone inside the kennel area.
Lug trotted over to Nymph’s cage and sniffed around her with curiosity. Nymph hadn’t interacted with many of the wolves yet because she wouldn’t leave her cage, but Lug had been in a few times to check her out, as was his duty as self-designated supervisor. Nymph wasn’t overly friendly to him, but she didn’t shy away either. Her nosed raised, she at least explored his scent without the wariness she showed almost everyone else.
“I think Lug has a crush on her,” Meredith said.
Dylan crouched beside Lug by the cage. “Do wolves get crushes, Mom?”
“Umm…” She could definitely give him a lesson in the mating habits of wolves, but she had hoped to wait on that conversation a little bit longer.
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