by Asher North
“You can lie down anywhere you’d like,” one of the Silverback guides said and Damon nodded before choosing a bed in the far right corner of the cavernous room. Still in his human form, he sat down on it and was surprised that it was so comfortable. The Silverback wolves took to smelling him, particularly in the areas where he was obviously wounded. Their noses were wet and tickled his skin but he didn’t resist them. A few moments later, they shifted into their human forms and continued touching and examining him.
“You have one or more broken ribs, that much is certain,” one of them said. “Though they seem to have begun healing rather quickly.”
“My family is known for that,” Damon said and it was true. Among all of the Black Claw houses, the Mooneyes had a reputation for healing quickly. The legend was that they carried the blood of the First Shifter in their veins, which accelerated their healing and battle abilities. Damon doubted the truth of it until now.
“Fascinating,” the wolf replied. “But where are my manners? My name is Arie, I am the lead Healer of the pack.”
“Please to meet you, Arie. My name is Damon.”
“It seems the rest of your wounds are mostly bruises but there might be a small fracture in your left leg,” Arie said. “You’ll need to stay off of your feet for a few days, maybe longer.”
“I don’t think we’re going to be going anywhere for a while,” Damon said and Arie laughed.
“I think you’re right. Well, if you’ll excuse us for a moment, we need to put together some herbs for your cuts and scrapes,” Arie said.
“Of course, thank you,” Damon said and the man bowed before walking to the long table in the middle of the room where most of the supplies were kept.
“This is amazing,” Kaster said, staring around the room in awe.
“I agree. I thought the Black Claws had an impressive Healer’s Guild but it pales in comparison to the Gold Eye guild,” Damon said. He realized then just how little he actually knew about the other packs and wondered how much of what he’d been told or read in the Black Claw history books was accurate. He also thought of the strange poem that the Lunalis twins had recited to he and Rhys.
“What do you think about what the pack leaders had to say?” Damon asked Kaster, thankful that he had someone knowledgeable and sharp of mind with him to talk about it. He barely knew Kaster but he’d already figured out that Kaster was much smarter and more capable than he let on.
“I’m not sure but it almost sounded like some sort of prophecy,” Kaster said and Damon turned to look him in the eye.
“A prophecy?” Damon asked. Even he knew about Gold Eye prophecies and what they could mean. The last time the Gold Eyes had delivered a prophecy, more than one hundred years ago, it’d gone ignored by the major pack leaders until all-out war ravaged Moonvalley. But could they really have a prophecy about me? He wondered. I’m nothing but a weakling Alpha from a much disliked pack.
“I could be wrong but that’s what I heard,” Kaster said with a shrug.
“What do you think it meant?” Damon asked and Kaster gave him a sheepish look. “What?” Damon pressed.
“I think it was talking about a bonding of some sort, a bond that would create something new,” Kaster said.
“What kind of bond?”
“A physical one,” Kaster said, looking away from Damon, and Damon’s face burned. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that he was attracted to Rhys but could that really have been what the prophecy was about? And even if it was, did that make it true? Many prophecies had been given over the years and few of them had actually come to pass.
“Not all prophecies are accurate,” Damon said.
“That’s true, not all of them are. Much of it comes down to interpretation,” Kaster said. “But I think the interpretation by the Lunalis wolves was accurate.”
“You did?” Damon asked but Kaster still wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“You don’t really mean to deny that there’s something going on between you and Rhys, do you?” Kaster asked.
“I… I’m not sure how to answer that,” Damon said. If his face had been burning before it was positively on fire now. “But let’s say that there was, I don’t understand it. What could Rhys see in me? I can’t fight, I was almost killed in my own initiation into my pack’s Alpha Order. I’m not the kind of Alpha he deserves.”
“Then you’ll just have to become the Alpha you think he does,” Kaster said, finally looking up to meet Damon’s eyes.
“Excuse me,” Arie interrupted. “The ointments are ready,” he continued. Damon was thankful for it. His wounds did sting but more than that he was grateful to get out of talking to Kaster about prophecies and Rhys.
It’s just a prophecy, he told himself as Arie started spreading the thick paste on Damon’s worst wounds. It stung for a few moments until it turned cool. It doesn’t mean anything. Prophecy or not, Rhys is a Silver Fang and I’m a Black Claw. It can never be, he thought though the words rang hollow even in his head.
Rhys
Rhys stood still as the twin Lunalis wolves stared at him, their golden eyes locked on him and never moving. He wasn’t sure what to think of them or the things they’d said but he did know that they were the only allies they had, or hoped to have, in the conflicts that were no doubt soon to follow them.
Though the horrible memory of watching his father be murdered by his own pack refused to leave him, he knew that he needed to be strong for Damon and for everyone else. He needed to win their allegiance, to prove to them that he was strong enough and trustworthy enough for them.
“The Black Claw, Damon, he is now Packless, is he not?” Knox asked and Rhys snapped back to attention.
“He is?” Rhys asked, looking to Eleo, who seemed as surprised to hear the news as Rhys had been.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Lux said. “Failing the Black Claw Alpha Order initiation is a great shame. Any wolf who fails must either die or be banished from the pack. It’s an ancient, barbaric custom among the Black Claws, though it persists even today.” Rhys felt consumed with grief for what Damon had lost. He wondered if Damon even knew. There were few things worse in life for a shifter than being deemed Packless.
For most wolves, it was a death sentence. The existing Packless wolves in their rogue bands didn’t take well to new bodies joining their ranks, if they even had ranks to begin with, and typically turned on them. Damon was not a fighter, that much Rhys was well aware of, so a confrontation with Packless wolves, who were wild and unpredictable, would almost certainly not end well for him.
“We’ve had word from the Black Claws before you arrived,” Knox said. “They’d very much like for us to align with them against the Silver Fangs, whom they blame for the death of their pack leader.”
“We didn’t kill Aeton Mooneye and neither did Damon,” Eleo said.
“We know. The stars have told us as much,” Lux said.
“Then what will you do?” Eleo asked.
“We will help you where and when we can but the Black Claws can never know that we have. They are dangerous and they will not hesitate to turn on us if they learn that we are harboring the wolves accused of murdering their pack leader,” Knox said. “Luckily, our den is quite safe from intrusion and anything that happens within will never leave our walls.”
“That’s good to hear,” Rhys said. “So you’ll let us stay?”
“For as long as we can without threat,” Lux said. “Though we don’t know how long that might be.”
“I understand,” Rhys said, though it didn’t bring him any comfort. If they were forced to leave the Gold Eye den, he had no idea where they would go. He didn’t doubt that the Black Claws and Silver Fangs alike were looking for their small group and he also didn’t doubt that they’d soon go to war. With Sayer Northstar in command of the Silver Fangs, it was more a matter of time than a matter of certainty.
“And what will we do in the meantime?” Eleo asked.
“Rest. Build up your strengt
h. We will reach out for alliances if and when the time comes. The White Tails in their frigid north are reluctant to join any battles but we believe we might be able to convince them if necessary. They owe us a debt,” Lux said. Rhys didn’t like the sound of that but there wasn’t anything he could do so he decided to leave it be.
“We will show you to your quarters,” Knox said.
“I’d like to go see check on Damon, if that’s OK,” Rhys said. The twin wolves fixed him with a knowing look that made Rhys uncomfortable.
“Of course. Follow me,” Lux said. Without looking at Eleo, Rhys followed as Lux took him to the Healers. Inside the large room, he found Damon with Kaster at the far right. He went to them and Damon’s face lit up when he saw Rhys approaching. Damon had a strange substance spread over several parts of his body that smelled odd.
“Are you alright?” Rhys asked.
“Much better, actually,” Damon said. Kaster gave them a look, one similar to the look that the Lunalis twins had given Rhys.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” Rhys said, not entirely sure he wanted to be alone with Damon. Damon, however, seemed pleased. Kaster left the room and then there was nothing but the silence between them and Rhys’s eyes on Damon’s exposed body. He wasn’t strong, that much was clear, but Rhys found him attractive nonetheless, and Rhys couldn’t mistake the scent that he gave off that told him that Damon thought the same.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Damon said, breaking the silence and looking around the room at the jars and materials that filled it. “The Gold Eyes are incredible. They put the Black Claw resources and Healers to shame.” Rhys nodded in agreement. He’d heard great things about the Gold Eye pack from his father and the council elders over the years, thanks to their legendary alliance in the days of Oberon Mooneye, but the things he’d seen since coming to their den surpassed even the best stories he’d been told.
“I never thought I’d see something like this,” Rhys said.
“What do you mean?”
“Some Silver Fangs and a Black Claw making friendly with the Gold Eyes,” Rhys explained and Damon chuckled.
“I’m not a Black Claw, not anymore,” he said. So he does know, Rhys thought, remembering what the Lunalis twins had told him about the Black Claws and their practices. “Not that it bothers me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No, not in the slightest. I don’t know what will become of me or where I’ll go when all of this has passed but any place is better than being with them. They’re cruel, all of them. I wouldn’t have survived long even if I’d passed the initiation,” Damon said.
“Why do they do the initiation?” Rhys asked, genuinely curious. He couldn’t see any real benefit to it.
“I’m not sure, to be totally honest. I suspect it’s to weed out any weaklings from the pack. That way the pack itself is saved from having to make any grisly decisions,” Damon said.
“Is it always a fight to the death?” Rhys asked.
“Not traditionally, no. The fight at the end of the initiation is supposed to determine a wolf’s rank in the Order,” Damon said. “The order follows the order in which the wolves fall in battle. The last wolf standing becomes the Captain of his generation in the Order.”
“Then why…?” Rhys asked, unable to bring himself to verbalize the rest of his question.
“It had nothing to do with the initiation itself,” Damon said. “That was just a convenient way for my father and brother to remove a nuisance.”
“Why would they want you dead?”
“My father didn’t,” Damon said, which surprised Rhys.
“He didn’t?”
“No. He banished me from the pack but he never wanted me dead. It was my brother, or half-brother in reality, who wanted to make sure that happened so I could never question his claim to the leadership of the pack,” Damon explained. “That’s why he killed my father, for showing me mercy. He meant to kill us both but then you saved me.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re twice the wolf either of them ever was,” Rhys said and Damon blushed.
“Thank you but it’s not true,” Damon said. “I’m an Alpha and I don’t even know how to fight, can’t even defend myself.”
“Strength isn’t always physical,” Rhys said. “It can be shown in many different ways.” It was as true for Damon as it was for Rhys himself.
“And how have I shown it?” Damon asked.
“You survived. You learned. You developed a sense of right and wrong, a sense it seems your family never did,” Rhys said. “It takes courage, even strength, to stand up for what’s right and name what’s wrong.” Damon looked away, clearly embarrassed.
“You’re too kind, Rhys,” Damon said, his voice low and meek.
“It’s not kind if it’s truth,” Rhys said and when Damon looked back up at him, he wore a bright smile. “If you can’t fight, if that’s not what you were meant to do, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll fight for you. I’ll help you get the revenge you deserve.”
“Thank you but I don’t want revenge,” Damon said.
“Then what do you want? I will help you get it,” Rhys said and he meant it.
“I only want to be happy. I want to put all of this behind me and find a place where I truly belong, where my strengths, as you say, will be valued and put to good use,” Damon said.
“You are well on your way,” Rhys said and Damon’s smile grew even larger. “And I will be there with you for every step. I’m searching for the same thing.”
“It’s good to have company,” Damon said.
“It is,” Rhys agreed, shifting into his human form and sitting on the bed next to Damon. He reached across the soft linen sheets to rest his hand on Damon’s and though Damon’s hand twitched at the touch, he didn’t pull it away. Rhys took it as a sign of approval. They sat like that for what seemed to Rhys like forever, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, savoring the scent that the other gave off. It took all of Rhys’s strength not to give in to the urges that screamed inside of him but he didn’t know how much longer he could delay them. If things continued on like this, there wouldn’t be any resolve left.
And what harm would come of it? Rhys could think of no other Alpha he’d rather mate with, even if Damon didn’t fit the typical Alpha mold. In fact, it was because Damon wasn’t like the other Alphas, who were heroic and arrogant and eager to prove themselves the strongest of the bunch, that Rhys was so attracted to him. He couldn’t be sure but he suspected that Damon felt the same way about him.
Rhys leaned in closer and when Damon didn’t pull away, he continued until their lips touched, just a graze at first. He lingered there for a few moments, mindful of the heat he felt pulsing from Damon’s lips into his own, until something stirred in Damon and he forced Rhys’s lips apart with his tongue, his hands coming up to hold Rhys on either side of his face as he pressed their mouths closer together. The show of courage impressed and aroused Rhys and just when he thought things might go further, Damon yanked away from him as if he’d been shocked.
“I’m sorry,” he heaved, the pupils of his eyes so widely dilated that Rhys thought he might be on the verge of losing himself as well. There was a wildness there, a strength that Rhys doubted Damon had ever been in touch with, and he longed to kiss Damon again and bring it out. He wanted Damon to feel it himself, to know that he was a true Alpha, no matter what anyone else had to say about it.
“There’s no need to apologize, I quite liked it,” Rhys said and Damon let out an embarrassed giggle, his face redder than the sun.
“So did I,” he admitted.
“Then why did you pull away?”
“I’m afraid. There’s so much going on, so much at stake. I don’t want to muddy the waters even further,” Damon said and thought it pained Rhys to admit, Damon was right. Maybe it was foolish of him to pursue this, even actively encourage it, but now that he had no pack to go home to and
no one to call family, he found it hard to think in selfless ways. The stories were true, Rhys thought. Heats are a dangerous thing. Though he somewhat liked the rashness, the bravery that his heat brought out in him. He might never have dared to kiss Damon had it not been for that but he didn’t regret having done it. Without the hormones swirling in his body, he might never have discovered how sweet an Alpha’s lips could be against his own.
“I’m sorry if I moved too quickly,” Rhys said.
“No, you didn’t. I’m not bothered by that,” Damon said, taking Rhys’s hand in his own and squeezing it tightly. “I just worry what might happen if we… well, if we aren’t careful.”
“You’re right, we need to be more cautious,” Rhys agreed, though it pained him to do so. “But I do hope we can do that again soon.” Damon beamed at him.
“So do I,” he said, his eyes twinkling, and Rhys was overwhelmed by the scent of Damon’s desire, which stirred his own yet again.
“I should let you rest,” Rhys said, standing from the bed.
“Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone,” Damon said and Rhys was happy to hear it because he didn’t want to spend the night with Eleo and Kaster. He wanted to be right here with Damon for as long as he could.
“There’s no room for me in the bed,” Rhys said and Damon blushed again. “But I can sleep on the floor beside you if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much,” Damon said, so Rhys shifted back into his wolf form and laid down beside the bed. Damon laid back and his hand dangled down to find Rhys’s fur, which he stroked gently. Rhys had never been petted like that, not since his Papa had done it when he was a young pup, and the feeling was almost as overwhelming as the kiss they’d shared.
“Are you afraid?” Damon asked.
“Of what?”
“The future. We’re both Packless now, like it or not, and I doubt my pack will stop looking for us any time soon. That would scare any wolf,” he said.