Raising Wolves

by Preston Walker

"That's a ninety percent debit," Jordan said. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

  Jeffery blinked, wrapping his brain around the paradigm shift.

  "Maybe it should," he admitted, ruefully. "But Jordan... carrying a baby? Giving birth? If the baby manages to survive nine months inside of me, I know I won't survive delivery. Have you seen how male shifters deliver?"

  "Yes," Jordan said, matter-of-factly. "And yeah, it's painful, and messy, and terrifying. But you won't be doing it alone. I'll be there, the doctors will be there; we'll set you up with some classes to get you fit and ready to deliver... you're going to be fine, Jeffery. You know how I know?"

  "How?" Jeffery asked, hope shining through his misery.

  "Because you already gave birth to yourself," Jordan said. "And you did a pretty damn good job of it."

  Jeffery laughed, a high, panicky laugh. "I have no idea how to be a parent."

  "Yeah, you do," Jordan said adamantly, standing up and pulling Jeffery to his feet. "You parent the same way you do everything. You evaluate the situation, and you do what needs to be done."

  Jeffery's face lit up. "Well shit, I know how to do that!"

  "You do," Jordan said, grinning. "And you're gonna be a damn good... father? Father. To that baby."

  "Caddy," Jeffery said.

  "What?"

  "Mash-up of carrier and daddy. It's what most male Omegas prefer."

  Jordan laughed and pulled Jeffery into his arms. "Caddy it is then," he said. "You are going to be a wonderful Caddy to this kid. You're already damn good with Darla, and she's a pill."

  Jeffery laughed at that, and took comfort in Jordan's embrace. He was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. A thought struck him suddenly.

  "Oh God," he said, pulling away. "If you become Alpha... and I... I am your Omega, that'll mean..."

  "You'll be my Queen!" Jordan laughed, lifting Jeffery off the ground and kissing him. "Darla will be thrilled."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She asked me if you were going to be my prince, happily ever after," he grinned. "She was very adamant about it."

  "She's a smart kid," Jeffery grinned.

  "Yeah," Jordan agreed, his eyes darkening suddenly. "What's the third game?"

  Jeffery swallowed hard. This was the part he'd been dreading.

  "The third game isn't really a game at all," he said, almost apologetically. "The final challenge is for you to defeat Montague in the ring."

  Jordan clenched his jaw and pushed his fingers through his hair.

  "One on one?"

  "One on one. Winner takes all. Loser... loser gets buried under the arena."

  "Literally?" Jordan asked, squeezing his eyes shut.

  "Literally. You've been playing on the bones of centuries' worth of challengers. Which, granted, is only about five people. Steel made a name for himself early on, and Montague is the only one in the world crazy enough to challenge him anymore."

  Jordan ran a hand over his face and started pacing.

  "Is this happening tomorrow?" he asked.

  Jeffery shook his head. "Steel set a date and sent an invitation to Montague. As soon as Montague accepts, we'll get a notice. I asked Steel for two weeks from the night we came here. I don't know if that's what he decided on. He seems to be playing his own game."

  Jordan nodded, then rubbed his temples. "Montague is crazy," he said. "That gives him an edge. How do you think I should prepare for this?"

  "Train," Jeffery said. "Train hard and train long. The Deltas spar morning and night. We'll get you on the roster. Afternoons, I'll work with you on hand-to-hand jungle style shit. Night, you sleep. If you beat your body up and you don't recover, Montague won't have to try too hard."

  Jordan looked at Jeffery with a startling softness in his eyes. "Are you up to that?" he asked, glancing pointedly at Jeffery's abdomen.

  Jeffery shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah," he said. "I'll check in with the doctor first, but as long as we're smart about it I don't think it'll be a problem. I'm barely p–p... it's barely there. I don't think it'll be an issue. Do you think it will?"

  "I don't know," Jordan said, honestly. "Didn't do much fighting when Alex was pregnant."

  "No, I mean, for you. If you and I train together, you won't be able to hold back. You have to be in this all the way, or it won't work."

  "Oh," Jordan said, thinking it over. He paced the room for a moment, then returned. "Tell you what," he said. "You work with me on my form and technique, and I'll try it out on a Delta. Will that work?"

  "Yeah," Jeffery said, with a relieved smile. "Yeah, that'll work."

  Early the next morning, as promised, Jeffery went to see the doctor while Jordan began training with the Deltas. Jeffery was nervous about going; it was so early in the pregnancy still, and he didn't want to waste anyone's time if he was wrong. He didn't think he was though. It was the only thing that made sense and he and Jordan hadn't exactly been careful. He took a breath and pushed through the door into the office. It was earthen here, like everywhere else in the colony, but it still managed to have that scrubbed clean antiseptic smell. He stepped over to the bubbly little receptionist.

  "Oh, Mr. Moranis! I thought you'd be in soon. Didn't expect it to be today, but I guess after that..."

  "Is there an opening this morning?" Jeffery interrupted impatiently. He really wasn't in the mood to relive the shock of the previous day.

  "Yes, you're in luck! She's just finishing up with a patient now, then nothing else until after lunch. Will you have a seat? I'll go let her know that you're here."

  Jeffery nodded and settled into one of the extra-large chairs in the waiting room. Everything about it reeked of fertility, from the pictures of tiny, furry werewolves on the walls to the mother-and-child wolf-shaped planters in the corners. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, embarrassed to be there but unwilling to leave. The minutes seemed to stretch on into infinity, and he found himself pacing the floor. Eventually the monotony broke and a very round, very pale woman bustled into the waiting room from the back.

  "Morning, Mr. Moranis!" she huffed, laboring under the weight of her burden. "Here's hoping you just have the one. This litter is about ready to pop me!" She chuckled heartily and waddled through the door, leaving a very nervous man wringing his hands behind her. Jeffery cast a glance toward the back. Moments later, the doctor appeared.

  "Mr. Moranis?" she said. He nodded. "Come on back."

  He followed her down the clean, earthen corridor to a small room. There was a startlingly eclectic array of equipment and implements tidily organized throughout the space, from cutting edge western medicine to the best of eastern medicine to traditional werewolf medicine. It made his head spin slightly, and he gained a new respect for shifter doctors.

  "Go ahead and get undressed," the doctor instructed, briskly. "I'll be just outside."

  Jeffery's face burned hot as he disrobed and climbed onto the examination table, covered with nothing but an awkward paper sheet. She returned momentarily and shot him a brief smile.

  "Now then, Mr. Moranis. Are you here because you're pregnant?"

  "I... I think so," he stuttered. "It would only be days, and I'm not entirely sure, I just... because of the..."

  "Sudden shift from Upsilon to Omega?" She finished for him, raising her eyebrows. "It's quite the story around here. Not to worry, we have a test for everything these days. Lay back for me."

  Jeffery did as he was told, and flinched as her cold fingers palpated his abdomen. She clucked her tongue as she felt around.

  "Definite swelling," she said. "Could be your womb awakening, or it could just be gas. One way to be sure. This isn't going to be comfortable," she said, apologetically. "But the only way to get a clear ultrasound at this stage is with the wand."

  "The... wand?" he repeated, beginning to sweat.

  She wheeled a large machine over that looked like an overgrown computer crossed with a coffee cart, and lifted a tool off of it. It was at least eight inc
hes long with a bulbous head, and was covered with what appeared to be a condom.

  "The wand," she said. "Please put your feet in the stirrups and scooch your butt toward me. That's it. Little cold, now. Lots of pressure. There we go."

  Jeffery thought he was going to pass out. He gripped the sides of the table and imagined that he was somewhere else.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jordan was finding it difficult to concentrate through his morning training session with the Deltas. Knowing that Jeffery was with the doctor, confirming his suspicions, made Jordan feel like a jerk for not going with him. Jeffery had insisted though, correctly pointing out that Jordan's life was more important than a pregnancy test. Still, Jordan found his mind wandering at inopportune moments, and was frequently tossed around like a rag doll.

  "Come on, wannabe!" his sparring partner taunted. "How you tryin'a be Alpha if you can't even take down a first-year Delta Reserve?"

  Jordan snarled and snapped his attention back to the moment. He rushed the kid, taking him down swiftly with some moves he picked up in his MMA class. The shifter lay stunned on the floor, gazing up at him in awe.

  "How did you do that?" he asked, scrambling to his feet.

  "I'll teach you some other time," Jordan said. "For now, pretend like you're Montague."

  The kid's face drained of blood. Kid was probably a misnomer, Jordan realized. He was probably close to fifty years old. He looked closer to eighteen.

  "You're facing off with Montague?" the kid asked, in an exaggerated whisper.

  "If the little bitch ever responds to the invite," Jordan said, with a grin. "Come on, come at me!"

  The boy took it seriously after that, and Jordan's focus sharpened. Once he'd exhausted the first kid, he took on a second, more experienced Delta. As with the chess matches, Jordan invariably lost when he tried to match the Delta's styles. It was only by integrating his own skills into the match that he was able to beat them. He had a crowd of Deltas asking him to teach them by the time he was done. He gave them all the same answer.

  "You help me beat the snot out of Montague, I'll teach you everything I know."

  That was enough to keep them motivated. By the time they broke for lunch, Jordan was battered and exhausted. He limped back to his room for a shower, quickening his pace when he realized that Jeffery would probably be back by now. He burst into the room, sweaty, smelly and excited, to find Jeffery curled in the fetal position on the bed.

  "Hey," he said, gently. "You okay?"

  "She shoved a wand up my ass," Jeffery said, numbly. "A big, bulbous, cold plastic wand. Up. My. Ass."

  Jordan suppressed a chuckle, and patted Jeffery's shoulder sympathetically.

  "Was it worth it?" he asked. "What did she say?"

  "Said I'm ripe, whatever that means. Said that fertilization definitely happened, and now it's a waiting game to see if it'll stick. I have another appointment in a couple weeks."

  "Can I come with you to that one?"

  "Only if you're still alive," Jeffery said, pulling an official notice out from under his pillow and handing it to Jordan.

  7/16 9:00 a.m.

  Alpha Prime Challenge

  Jordan Hacker vs. Montague Domingo

  Your attendance is expected.

  Jordan whistled and sat down hard. Jeffery pushed him up again. "You stink; go shower," he said.

  Jordan grinned and went off to do as he was told. The hot water curled around his aching joints and muscles and he rolled the news around in his mind. Ten days, he realized. He had ten days to get ready for the most important fight of his life. The stakes were so high that the thought of running away flitted through his mind momentarily, but he dismissed it. He wasn't going to lose. He was going to rid the world of the poison known as Montague Domingo; he was going to get his daughter back, and then he would decide what to do about this whole Alpha Prime business. He wasn't too keen on accepting a role that he had been pressured into taking. Steel was essentially holding his daughter hostage until Jordan earned and accepted the role of Alpha Prime. Jordan decided that he and the old man were going to sit down and have a long chat about that after he'd won.

  After I win. The words repeated themselves in his mind. That's where he had to put his focus. You never punch your target; you punch the space behind your target, he reminded himself. If he put his entire consciousness on the fight, he wouldn't have any reason to move beyond it. This wasn't a fight for honor or glory or any inconsequential bit of status and pride; this was a fight for his family. For his very life. He needed to put his mind on the afterward if he was going to survive.

  He dried himself off and stepped out of the bathroom, gazing tenderly at his 'afterward' napping deeply on the bed. He'd had a rough morning. Jordan wasn't going to bother him about practice; not today. He was fighting his own battle within himself. Jordan curled up on the bed, spooning Jeffery, and pulled the covers up over them. He might as well get a nap in before his afternoon match. He dreamed of cooking breakfast for his family of four, his chocolate-eyed daughter laughing at him across the table. He dreamed of a baby with spiky, uncontrollable brown hair and big, dreamy gray eyes, chewing his finger and drooling. Then there was Jeffery, snuggling him while he flipped chocolate chip pancakes, nibbling on his ear. "Jordan," the dream Jeffery whispered. "Jordan!"

  "Jordan!" Jeffery was saying, shaking him awake.

  "Hm? What?"

  "Training starts in five minutes, get up!"

  "Oh, crap."

  Jordan leapt out of bed and was halfway out of the room before he realized he was naked. He turned around, and Jeffery tossed him a pair of clean sweats. He yanked them on then raced down the hallway to the training hall, cursing himself for not setting an alarm. It had been worth it though, he decided. The dream was sharp and clear in his mind, and it narrowed his focus perfectly. That was where he needed to get to. That was what all this was for. He changed the game up once he met with the Deltas and, after their warm up, he asked them to fight him two at a time. He lost, twice, and then he won. He kept fighting, kept pushing himself, pursuing larger and faster and more experienced sparring partners until the lead Delta called for the end of the session. Out of breath and bruised to hell, Jordan rinsed off in the locker room and limped to the cafeteria. He hoped Jeffery would be there as he didn't have the energy to go get him.

  Jeffery was there, and had already piled a plate high with food for Jordan. He pushed it across the table toward him with a smile as Jordan creakily took his seat.

  "How did it go?" he asked.

  "I... am in pain," Jordan said, wincing as he lifted his arm to pick up his fork. "But I think it went well. I'm focused. I'm learning. I think I can take him, if I keep this up. I'm not going to practice the day before though. I don't think my muscles could take it. I'm going to be hating myself tomorrow."

  "You're a werewolf now, remember?" Jeffery said, his eyes twinkling. "You're going to recover quickly. But I agree with taking the day before the fight off. I would prefer it, actually."

  "Why's that?" Jordan asked, around a mouthful of food.

  "Because if the worst happens... and I don't think it will, but if it does... I would rather spend that day with you."

  Jordan met Jeffery's eyes across the table and love washed over him. There was no mistaking the feeling and it took him by surprise. He'd been comfortable with Jeffery and he was fiercely attracted to him. But he hadn't seen this coming. He'd expected a comfortable friendship that would trundle on steadily through the years, not knowing that he was capable of feeling this way for anyone. It was similar to what he felt for Darla. The inevitable attachment of forever combined with the utter willingness to take a bullet to spare him. There, in the middle of the cafeteria, Jordan leaned across the table and pulled Jeffery's face to meet his in a powerful kiss. Jeffery responded in kind. To hell with the onlookers, Jordan thought. Let them gawk.

  The next nine days were filled with more of the same. Jeffery spent his time reading up on pregna
ncy and parenting, while Jordan sparred with bigger and badder Deltas. His skill improved, and he came back to the room less beaten every day. He knew it wasn't enough. Montague was no Delta. He was an Alpha, whatever that meant in the ring. He was also insane. Jordan forced himself not to obsess about it. He focused on the after. The years, months, weeks, days... hell, the moment after. The closer the date drew, the more his focus zeroed in. He imagined himself standing over Montague's body. Imagined the final blow. The scenes played over and over in his mind until he dreamed them; until every Delta match felt unsatisfactory in comparison. He was itching to beat the man.

  That ninth day he spent with Jeffery. The barracks were empty of Deltas; those who weren't preparing their drills in the arena had gone to San Perdido to raid Montague's prison house while he was sure to be gone. The empty halls echoed creepily so, since Jordan was still confined to the barracks, they stood by the window and watched the sea, talking about anything but what would happen the next day.

  "What's your favorite color?" Jordan asked.

  "Green," Jeffery said, his mouth quirking in pleasant amusement. "What's yours?"

  "Used to be red," Jordan said, thoughtfully. "Lately, though, I'm leaning toward brown."

  "Brown?" Jeffery said, raising an eyebrow.

  "Yeah. We think it's a nothing color because it's everywhere. Earth, wood, trees..."

  "Shit," Jeffery interjected.

  Jordan laughed. "Yeah, that too. But that's part of what makes it such a great color. Brown makes you think of chocolate and coffee. Darla's eyes; your hair. This colony, wrapped in it. It's a warm, pleasant, homey color."

  Jeffery nodded. "Brown it is," he said. "What's your favorite name for a boy?"

  Jordan grinned. "Xander," he said. "Or Xerxes. Or Jaxson, with an X."

  "What's with the X?"

  "It sounds sharp and direct," Jordan said. "Jordan sounds soft; sort of curvy."

  "Like a river?" Jeffery said, wryly.

  "Yes," Jordan laughed. "Which is great because it carries an element of surprise when I kick someone's ass, but I want my kids to have a name that they try to live up to."