Brand of the Pack

by Tera Shanley

  The moment was blinding, burning her from the inside. She closed her eyes against every nerve being set aflame as he tensed again and released another burst of warmth into her.

  “Fuck,” he yelled, shaking under the same tortured ecstasy that wracked her body.

  Wide-eyed, she melted into him as the pain seeped from her veins, leaving a humming pleasure where they still sat connected in its wake. “What was that?” she breathed.

  “That,” he said, chest heaving, “was our bond.” He stared at her throat. A slow smile took his sensual lips as he lifted his gaze to hers. “Can you feel it?”

  Something thrummed in the space between them, and she searched his chest for some hint of the tether she felt. She leaned closer, and the motion offered relief.

  This moment, right here, staring into Grey’s adoring eyes while an unexplainable power strummed between them, made her a believer in magic.

  Tucked under her mate’s chin, she fell asleep in the safety of his strong arms with a smile of satisfaction on her lips and declarations of devotion on his.

  Chapter 10

  By the time Morgan woke up, the evening sun cast shadows across the dark wooden floor. Grey’s legs had tangled with hers under the sheets. His face was relaxed, and she hesitated to wake him. Never had she seen him look so untroubled. He probably hadn’t slept this well since the night before he saved her and Lana from the werewolf that killed Marianna. It seemed as if the pressure had been lifted from him. The weight he had been carrying on his shoulders must have been substantial. She would be there for him now to try to make it easier, because no matter how easy he made things look, the amount of responsibility he managed could be crushing. He would be an alpha by night’s end. She inhaled happily as pride hummed through her body.

  Grey stretched his legs and pulled her closer. “Your thoughts are so loud, I can almost hear them.”

  “Okay, then what am I thinking, Black Wolf?”

  Opening his eyes, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “How happy and proud you are.”

  So their bond meant he could read her mind? That was disturbing. “Huh, good guess.” She squinted and tried to expel any embarrassing inappropriate thoughts about how good it felt to wake up to Grey’s erection pressed against her belly.

  “I can’t read your mind, but I can get a sense of what you are feeling.”

  Perhaps that is what she’d been doing right before he woke up—sensing his emotions. Certainly, she had felt something…relief emanating from him.

  “I think I can, too. Is that normal? I mean, does that happen to other pairs?”

  His chuckle reverberated against her cheek. “Dean told me about it happening to certain couples. It depends on the intensity of the bond.”

  They lay there for a while in contented silence as she traced the smooth planes of his shoulder. He would be branded tonight and this was the last time she’d see his upper arm unmarred.

  “Grey? That wasn’t like anything I’ve ever…” She tried again. “It was…” There was no way words could do justice to how he made her feel. “Being with you was amazing. It’s like you were made just for me. Your body was made to fit my body.”

  “I know,” he said with a smile in his voice. He kissed her softly. “For me, too.”

  Her stomach, apparently unimpressed with the tender moment, growled loudly. “All right, smarty-pants, what am I thinking now?”

  “I bet I can take a guess. I think the caterer put the leftovers in the fridge.”

  “Okay, dinner would be nice, but first I want to get all of these pins out of my hair and take off all this makeup.”

  “How about we take a bath first and then get food?”

  She hesitated. “I know it’s silly, but will a bath wash any of your smell off me?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Not even a little. And even if it did, I could put my scent back in you.”

  She nodded, satisfied. “A bath and then food.”

  * * * *

  Morgan wore pink flannel shorts with a gray tank top and bright pink bunny slippers that dangled lazily from where she sat on the countertop. Grey smirked thoughtfully at her house shoes.

  “Whatever happened to Bucky?” he asked, taking another forkful of tenderloin from the plastic storage container.

  “Oh, Lana’s pet bunny? Logan ate him. I didn’t tell Lana that, though. I told her he was running free in the forest. He offered to buy her another one, but I don’t want to put another pet store bunny through that. I think we’ll hold off on pets for a while because they are too appetizing for the company we keep. Is it going to hurt?”

  “What, the branding ceremony? Yeah. I haven’t ever been branded, but I know how a silver knife felt in my back when I fought the Montana pack. It’s not like a normal cut. It burns, but I’ll do it quick. Dean showed me a few tricks to get a good scar out of it without damaging the muscle. When he brings Marissa over, he is going to do mine first.”

  “What kind of knife are you supposed to use?”

  “A traditional ceremonial knife coated in silver. They are thinner, like a letter opener to carve a smaller line. A challenger made us miss the first meeting with the silversmith, so Dean picked ours up after the wedding. It will be the knife I use on all of our pack members from here on.”

  He slid off the counter and closed the gap between himself and his mate. He pulled her legs apart so he could stand in between them and took a long drag of the air around her neck. “You smell so good. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Your scent has changed so much from this morning.”

  “I like it, too. Smelling like you means I’m yours and you’re mine.”

  She gently nuzzled the side of his face and nibbled on the soft edge of his ear as she pulled herself closer. Gently, she tugged his shirt up, scraping her nails against his skin as she went. The sound of a car engine over gravel sounded and he paused, turning his head toward the door. “Dean is headed this way. It’s time.”

  His ears pricked at her galloping heartbeat. She was afraid, and he wished he could take her fear away. It would rip him apart to cut her.

  Dean pulled up and Marissa jumped out as soon as he cut the engine. She bolted for Morgan and threw her arms around her. “Are you ready?”

  Sliding from the driver’s side, Dean pulled a small wooden box out and set it on the hood of the car. Moving the clasp to the side, he opened the lid to reveal a silver dagger. The hilt had the intricate design of the pack emblem and the thin blade reflected the full moonlight.

  The brands would identify their loyalty to their chosen pack. It didn’t happen often, but every once in a long while, a wolf would move to a different one and would have multiple brands. This would be Marissa’s second.

  Grey pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the front porch. He inhaled and held the air in his chest for a three-count to relax. It wouldn’t do to show Marissa and Morgan how much it hurt before they had to endure the same.

  Dean took the dagger and squared up to his side. “I’d tell you to look away because it’s easier, but you need to watch to see exactly how to do it for the girls. Relax your arm.”

  Dean expertly carved the symbol into his skin. It boiled and hissed, sending agonizing pain shooting down his arm. The finished brand bled freely but Dean put a poultice over it immediately. He expected the pain to ease with the medicine, but instead the burn seared even deeper, throbbing with his pulse. He clenched his jaw against the agony.

  Dean pressed harder. “This medicine keeps the wound open but slows the bleeding. It will make a better, clearer brand. Wade makes these. I had him make a couple more for Marissa and Morgan. It hurts like hell, but your mark will look better for it.” Dean removed the poultice from his arm. “All right, you’re done. The brand should be smaller on the girl’s arms because of their size. Remember, once it is done, you need to Change and clean their blood as Wolf. You can take blood from them any time to bind th
em, but it is much easier if you do it tonight to seal the pack bond.” Dean handed the dagger and box to Grey.

  Dean hugged Morgan and then Marissa before he stopped in front of him. “Promise me, you’ll take good care of her.”

  It had to be hard for him to give Marissa to another alpha. He tried to imagine giving Lana to another pack, and the thought brought a physical ache to his chest. “I promise,” he said, letting the truth of his statement saturate the words.

  The other wolf grunted and nodded before heading back to his truck. “Got to get back and start my pack’s full moon hunt. See you soon.” He smiled sadly at Marissa and left.

  Grey was oddly calm. He was about to carve brands into Morgan and Marissa’s flesh, but his hands were steady. Thank goodness for all of the wood carving hours he had logged. He waved when he caught Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror and watched until the truck disappeared into the woods.

  Morgan was already peeling her shirt, shorts, and shoes off by the time he swung around to get started.

  “You bled a ton and I don’t want to ruin my favorite pajamas,” she explained with a nervous laugh.

  She and Marissa stood side by side with their hands clasped tightly.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Morgan nodded and turned her face away. He was quick about it, but the sizzle and crack of her flesh under the blade would stay with him. He applied the poultice and pressed it firmly into her arm. He kissed her head and murmured soothing words as her arm sizzled and smoked, and tears of pain streaked down her cheeks. His own brand still burned as if he were lying on a hot stove. She wasn’t nearly through it. The recurrent pit pat, pit pat of her blood hit the grass below and the brand sizzled on, showing no sign of abating.

  Instead of holding Morgan’s hand, Marissa hugged her with her free arm while Grey drew up beside her and prepared to make the first mark. Morgan stroked her hair and held her tight as Grey worked. The girl cried quietly when he put the poultice on her arm. She was tough as nails from everything she’d been through, and talked beyond her age with the maturity of experience, but she was still a fourteen-year-old girl. That kind of pain was agony. The second he took the poultice off her arm, he let the tingles of Change rip through him.

  His new pack knelt down, arms relaxed at their sides as he cleaned first Morgan’s wound, and then Marissa’s. When he was finished, he stood back and howled long and low, rising steadily. A few howls from the neighboring property rang out, answering him. Morgan and Marissa ambled into the woods, away from the bright house lights, and began their own Changes.

  * * * *

  The crickets were a sweet serenade as Morgan stretched every vertebra in her spine to ward off the last of the fuzziness that always came with a Change. Her ears twitched with the humming that seemed to emanate from her chest. It connected her to the rest of the pack. What a curious side effect. She’d run tens of times with Dean’s wolves and had to rely solely on her sight and smell to find them in the dark. She walked east and the vibration eased as she approached a small clearing.

  Grey sat completely still, watching her with intense golden eyes. They had only Changed together when Alexis had Turned her, and she remembered almost nothing about those horrible weeks. She cocked her head at a small whimpering sound that came from the brush. Marissa must have been recovering on the edge of the woods. A cloud shifted, and moonlight lit the small meadow. Grey approached slowly, and she stood her ground against the crackle of his power that seemed to charge the air between them. He paused and she licked under his chin, hunching her shoulders until she was under him. He rubbed against her, stopped to smell under her tail, then pressed his huge body along her other side to nuzzle her face. His power, once so overwhelming, became a warm blanket.

  Grey’s girth was surprising. They’d spent so little time together in their wolf skin and she’d never stood right next to him. She was a smaller werewolf, more petite than even Marissa and Rachel, but still more dominant than the other two females. Size didn’t necessarily have to do with pecking order, but Grey’s stature seemed to defy that. He had a tiny waist over muscular hindquarters, but his chest was deep and his shoulders broad. Even his neck muscles were thick. He was as dark as the night and her white coat glowed when she stood next to him. She licked his face in approval of Wolf. She placed her paw inside of a print he’d made in the dirt. Hers was about half his size, and she huffed a wolfish laugh at an image of a Pomeranian and a Great Dane. Grey looked at her in surprise and made a croaking sound in his throat. Laughter.

  Marissa came out of the brush on her belly and Morgan trotted over to meet her, also low to the ground. She lowered her tail but wagged it vigorously back and forth. Marissa knew her place and didn’t have to worry about being reminded by Morgan. The younger wolf rolled over, submissive, and Morgan sniffed her all over, familiarizing herself with her scent. Marissa had a beautiful, light cream and brown coloring to her fur, her eyes light gray.

  The new ebony alpha walked slowly over. Marissa froze on her back, not daring to move as he sniffed at her. He turned, and Marissa tentatively stood. Suddenly, he spun around and lowered his big, barrel-shaped chest to the ground. His back end was up in the air and his tail wagged lazily. His tongue lolled out to the side as he panted. He turned and took off. Marissa and Morgan looked at each other and then tore after him through the brush.

  Running with a pack was nothing and everything Morgan could have expected. A rush of knowledge came with every footfall, every maneuver. A small sound could signify a complicated strategy and a flick of the ears could solidify their plans. An hour passed in seconds as she explored the new territory with them. Grey skidded to a stop in front and jerked his head to the west. The relaxed grunt of a deer reached her ears.

  Bigger prey always moved on a full moon. They could better see danger coming with the added light and didn’t have to wait until morning to find food. Good and bad for the pack. They had a chance at a meal, but it would be on the move.

  Morgan stalked quietly behind the others and was rewarded with a view of a small herd of deer in the thick of the woods. A large doe and a smaller yearling fed on grass off to the side. The easiest prey. Grey growled almost inaudibly in his throat, never taking his eyes from their quarry. They needed to separate them. He disappeared into the forest and headed west while Morgan led Marissa toward the unsuspecting animals.

  She jumped out of the brush at a dead run and herded the two deer forward. Marissa separated the bigger deer off and rejoined her right behind the smaller one. They followed Grey’s scent into a valley and right as she closed in on the tired animal, Grey shot out of the brush and into the side of the deer, forcing it to the ground.

  Grey lifted his voice in the victory of their first successful hunt, and Morgan and Marissa joined him. The Dallas pack joined their song from a distance, fading, rejoining, and fading again.

  Chapter 11

  Morgan opened her eyes to a weight across her abdomen. The heat against her fur was what had brought her back from the depths of a dreamless sleep. Marissa slept soundly across her middle. She sat up and the cream and brown wolf stretched until each of her individual toes could be seen.

  Where had Grey run off to? Surely, he wouldn’t have left his pack unless it was for something important. The hair rose on her haunches. Marissa whined and licked at the tender underside of her chin. She let off a shallow growl and trotted in the direction of the house. His scent was still fresh and the hum against her soul lessened with every step. Marissa picked her way carefully behind her. Her soft, practiced paws turned barely a leaf.

  Voices drifted on the wind. One was Grey’s and one belonged to an unfamiliar man. As she moved closer, her hackles rose to the point of discomfort. Like someone petting her against the grain of her fur.

  “I’ve driven all this way and I want to challenge you,” a lanky boy on the cusp of manhood said with raised eyebrows.

  Grey was leaning against the side of
the house, completely bare of clothing and utterly unconcerned. “I don’t accept your challenge because my mate has already been claimed. By me. You have no grounds to issue a formal challenge. I have not failed in my duties in any way.” He crossed his arms and glanced behind him as she came out of the woods.

  The raven-haired boy jabbed a finger in her direction. “Her, I want her. She’s the silver wolf everyone has been talking about.”

  “How old are you?” Grey asked, unperturbed.

  “I’m twenty. Old enough to start my own pack.”

  Grey snorted. “You are old enough to start your own pack, sure, but you aren’t dominant enough. You couldn’t hold one. You couldn’t keep them safe or keep them together. You weren’t born for it, kid.” His eyes were a deep pool of blue as he glanced down at her and shrugged. Wolf, having no concern at all with the pup, seemed to have retreated.

  “I can learn.”

  “No, you can’t.” His steely tone suggested he was losing patience with the boy. “The dominance you have in life is the dominance your wolf has when you are Changed. It doesn’t increase with age or experience. Wolf isn’t even threatened by you. How do you think you are going to keep a pack safe? Do you know how much fighting goes in to keeping Silver Wolf safe? The minute another male who is more dominant, stronger, bigger than you comes along, you will lose her. Who is your maker? Why did he turn you so young and why is he not watching over you and explaining all of this to you now?”

  “That’s none of your damned business! I’ve heard of you, Demon Wolf. If I’m not dominant, how can I even talk to you? Or is that a lie so you don’t have to fight me?”

  Grey’s eyes turned a brilliant gold as he walked steadily toward the boy. The crack of power that emanated from her mate was enough to make her cower. His scars were on display for the challenger to see. A resume etched into his flesh that told of his ample experience and victories.

  The boy gasped and tried to back up, but his shoulders hit the jeep he had driven. Grey grabbed him by the throat, forearm flexing. He moved the left sleeve of the boy’s shirt aside with the other hand.