"I tried to kill him," Natasha admitted quietly. Unbidden, her hand rose and rubbed at the hollow in her chest. The place where her pack bond had always been ached, it was the most painful wound her father inflicted.
"You what?!" Nafarius jerked to attention as the female suddenly took on dangerous dimensions.
Roland took a step forward, his features bleached with shock.
Natasha's skin prickled, the base of her spine tingling in warning as the alpha's power rippled through the room. "He killed my pack-mate, slaughtered him when he returned with the news of your mating."
"I've known Dimitri going on fifty years," Nafarius growled, eyeing the female suspiciously. "I've never known him to act irrationally."
All alphas were temperamental, even violent, but protection of the pack came before all else. To attack one of your own was unthinkable.
"Why?" Roland asked.
"My father has become an Old One," Natasha said softly, breaking Nafarius' train of thought.
Nafarius blinked in surprise.
Sam felt a shiver of dread through the mate bond, the emotion from Nafarius sharp and piercing. A second later and the sentiment echoed along the pack bond from Roland and Maddie.
"What's an Old One?" Sam asked.
Natasha looked up at Nafarius, her eyes asking him to explain.
"Do you remember when I told you that werewolves count their lifespan in centuries?" Nafarius waited for Sam to nod before continuing. "I've known some to live as long as eight hundred years. But none of them were alpha wolves."
Sam frowned. That still didn't answer her question, or explain the others' response to Natasha's declaration. "Okay."
"It's rare for an alpha wolf to reach old age, most of them are killed by younger, stronger wolves in a fight for dominance. But every once in a while you get one that survives. We call them Old Ones and they usually have to be put down," Nafarius finished softly.
Natasha looked up to find Nafarius watching her, his blue eyes touched with sadness. For her father, or for himself? As an alpha male, Nafarius risked the same fate as her father.
Suddenly chilled, Sam wrapped her arms around herself. "What happens that they have to be put down?"
"Alpha wolves aren't meant to live long lives," Nafarius said. There hadn't been reports of an Old One in his relatively short lifetime. But there were stories of villages razed, entire human populations slaughtered and left to rot and worse, of alphas decimating their own packs. "So when a wolf lives too long..."
"He goes insane," Roland finished quietly, his eyes tight where they watched Nafarius.
"No one really knows why," Nafarius continued. He studiously avoided looking at his beta. "Too much time combined with all that power...who knows..."
Sam watched Nafarius, and knew that he wasn't as nonchalant about the whole thing as he seemed. She could sense his disquiet, his worry about a future that might one day be his.
Needing to touch him, Sam went to her mate, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest.
Nafarius enfolded his mate in his arms, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. Please don't let it happen to me. The idea of turning on one of his own, knowing Sam would put herself between him and the pack left him cold. All he had to do was look at Natasha and at the bruises that marred her pale face to know what the outcome of such a thing would be.
"Is it just the males?" Sam asked. Beneath her ear, drummed the reassuring beat of her mate's heart.
Nafarius nodded. "I've never heard of an alpha female becoming an Old One."
"Do we die younger?" Sam asked, curious.
"No," Nafarius said with a frown. "Actually, I've heard about quite a few old alpha females."
"But even the most dominant female is submissive to the alpha male of the pack," Roland provided.
"So, it's the most dominant of the species that suffers," Sam said. Looking up at her mate, she couldn't help but think that she had never met a male more dominant than Nafarius.
Sam turned to Natasha. "And this is what is happening to your father?"
Natasha nodded.
"How long?" Nafarius asked.
Natasha's eyes slid away, unable to hold the alpha's gaze.
"Natasha." Nafarius' voice was edged with power. "How long?"
"Not long," Natasha answered without looking at him.
"When he got the news?" Nafarius pushed.
Natasha swallowed hard. "I think my father has known for a while that he was slipping, and he knew the day might come when he could turn on his own pack. So he started to make plans, putting things in place so when the time came there would be someone strong enough to do what needed to be done."
Nafarius felt the full weight of Natasha's eyes as they lifted to look at him.
"That's why he wanted the pact," Nafarius filled in. "He knew I was the only one..."
Natasha nodded. "None of the males of my pack are strong enough to stand as alpha, even if they didn't have to go through my father first. You are." It was an unfair responsibility to put on the other alpha. Her father had traded on the long friendship between the packs, first with Nafarius' father and then the male himself. Natasha had argued with her father to speak candidly with Nafarius. But in the end, alpha pride had won out, her father refusing to acknowledge what was happening to him.
"But why make our mating part of the deal?" Nafarius asked. "I would have joined the packs and seen to your father."
"My father is still alpha," Natasha said with pride. "He wants his blood leading the pack, or at the very least, descendants of his blood."
"Your young," Roland said, quietly.
Natasha nodded, looking up to find Roland watching her closely, his eyes hooded.
"But succession isn't necessarily hereditary," Sam said, any male could challenge the alpha and take his place.
"No," Roland said. "But alphas tend to breed alphas, sons replacing their fathers."
"Is that what happened with you?" Sam looked up at Nafarius. There was still so much to her mate that she didn't know. "Where is your father?"
"Living in Seattle with my mother," Nafarius said, a hum of affection for his parents coursing down the mate bond. "My father knew the day I was born that one day I would replace him as alpha. When the time came, he decided to step aside rather than fight me."
Nafarius had come into his maturity right on schedule, growing itchy with the need to meet the challenge of his pack being led by a weaker male. The wolf in him didn't recognize familial relationships, uncaring that their alpha and father were one in the same.
Nafarius rubbed his hand up and down his mate's back. Feeling her care and concern, he was reminded again that she had once been human and this was a lot to take in.
"So, when I broke our agreement..." Nafarius said, speaking over Sam's head.
"My father snapped," Natasha finished. "The agreement, his plans for the pack's future were the only things holding him together."
Roland shared a look with Nafarius, both of them knowing the ramifications of an unhinged alpha.
"What about Craig?" Roland asked. "As beta, it's his responsibility to see to your father. He dishonors Dimitri and endangers the pack by hesitating."
Sam watched Roland, realizing that as Nafarius' beta and the only other male strong enough, the responsibility to put her mate down would one day fall to him.
In that moment, Sam didn't know if she loved or hated Roland for it.
"Craig wouldn't do it," Natasha said quietly.
"So you tried." Roland felt fear war with wonder at the idea of the female trying to take down her father.
"I failed," Natasha said, remembering the ease with which her father had fought off her weak attack.
"It wasn't your responsibility," Nafarius told her quietly. No youth should have to suffer through putting a parent down.
"If not me, then who?" Natasha asked, scanning the faces around her. "My father is dangerous. He can't be left to - "
; "I'll do it," Nafarius told her quietly. "I owe you and your father that much."
Sam felt the heavy weight of responsibility settle on her mate. He would protect the pack, even if it meant putting down an alpha he once considered a friend.
"And my pack?" Natasha asked, guilt eating at the relief she felt at seeing her father's fate sealed. Unfortunately, her father wasn't the only one she needed to see to. She hadn't told Nafarius or the others that she had been cut from her pack. At the moment, it wouldn't change anything and would only complicate matters.
"That depends on them," Nafarius said. "Once your father is gone, it will open the way for another alpha to step forward."
"None of them are strong enough to hold the pack," Natasha said. "Not from you or the others."
"Others?" Sam asked.
"An alpha that isn't strong enough to take over his own pack will see this as an opportunity." Roland answered. Even with their remote location, it wouldn't take long for word to spread that Natasha's pack had lost its alpha.
"The werewolf version of a corporate raid?" Sam asked.
"More like a hostile takeover," Natasha said. "The new alpha usually kills all of the other males before they can challenge him."
"You wouldn't...?" Sam asked, leaning back to stare up at her mate.
Slowly, Nafarius nodded. "It's in our nature," he said. He wouldn't hide anything from his mate, trusting that Sam was strong enough to accept what he was - what she was. "Any potential threat would be sought out and destroyed, and a pack without an alpha is dangerous."
A heavy silence fell.
Natasha felt powerless, unable to save her father or protect her pack. "I need some air," she said. What she really meant was she needed to escape. "And maybe a place to clean up."
"There's a stream - " Sam said.
"I'll take her," Roland offered. He ignored the alpha female's surprised start, avoiding her eyes as she looked from him to Natasha.
"I have a few things you might want to take with you," Sam offered Natasha, quickly slipping from the room.
Natasha stood stiffly. Nafarius and Roland had their heads together, furious whispers flying too fast for her to follow. She had no doubt as to their topic of conversation.
"Here you go," Sam said, handing Natasha a bundle of toiletries. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"I will," Natasha said, knowing that she might have to ask for a lot more in the near future.
Roland stood waiting for Natasha, letting her pass before turning to follow her outside. A soft hand on his arm stopped him. Looking down, he found Sam staring after Natasha, her fingers cool on his arm.
"Be gentle with her," Sam said, watching the female disappear outside.
When she finally looked up at Roland it was to pin him with piercing green eyes. "I will," he said.
Sam searched Roland's face before withdrawing her hand and letting him go. She had been wrong. A trace of the bond she had created with Natasha remained, a shadowy afterimage that radiated with pain.
CHAPTER THREE
As I Walk Through the Valley...
Craig strolled through the pack house, stepping over garbage and the discards from last night's meal. Making a mental note to have the females clean, he carefully avoided touching...anything.
Like everything else in this place, the condition of the house had steadily declined. You could still see the remnants of what used to be a home, but the soft, feminine touches were tattered and dusty. The few pictures that remained were cracked and faded, and the windows were caked with grime. All of it evidence of their alpha's failing mental state.
Speaking of Dimitri, Craig spied the old alpha sitting at the kitchen table. Bent over a book, a candle burning at his elbow, he appeared lucid.
"Sire," Craig said, bending slightly at the waist.
"Where's Randall?" Dimitri asked, without looking up.
"He awaits your pleasure," Craig said. Considering what had happened to Carter, was it any wonder Randall had nearly wet himself at the idea of delivering the news to his alpha?
"Spare me your silver tongue," Dimitri said, making a meticulous note in the margin. "What news of my daughter?"
"She lives," Craig said. How that was possible was a question of considerable interest. He'd seen the condition the female had been in, her father dragging her out the pack house door. "She remains with Nafarius."
An unnatural stillness settled over the house. Empty but for the two of them, Craig waited to see which way Dimitri would blow.
"Traitorous bitch," Dimitri muttered. His own daughter had betrayed him. "Never should trust a female..."
Craig was inclined to agree. Oh, females have their place. Preferably on their hands and knees. Dimitri's daughter, no submissive she-wolf, hadn't appreciated her father's recently devolving opinion on the subject and had objected strongly to the changes in the pack hierarchy. At one time, Dimitri had adored his daughter but that time was past.
"And Nafarius?" Dimitri carefully turned the page, gently smoothing his hand across the book.
"He and his mate appear to be getting ready for winter." Craig said. Nothing like adding a little gasoline to the fire. The mention of the male and his mate was sure to aggravate the old alpha.
Dimitri's pencil snapped. Carefully, he set it aside and reached for a new one.
"They prepare to hunt?" After nearly eight hundred years as alpha, Dimitri could predict the other male's moves with ease.
Craig nodded, though Dimitri had yet to look up from his book. What exactly was he reading? Tilting his head slightly, Craig tried to get a look at the book. The margins were riddled with notes, illegible scribbles too cryptic for him to make sense of.
"Most of the males will be spread out across the territory," Craig pointed out.
"Hmmm..." Dimitri stared down at the page. Lost my place. The words tilted, bunching closer together and overlapping each other as they slowly slid off the paper. Can't read when they're on the floor.
Craig watched as Dimitri bent down to look at his feet. No, the alpha was staring at the floor.
Patiently, he waited. Craig had learned to give it time. Eventually, Dimitri would snap back, his thoughts clear once again. For the moment.
It took considerably longer this time for Dimitri to gather his thoughts, his focus once again on the book on the table.
"Do we attack?" Craig asked. "With the males gone, the den will be lightly guarded, we can - "
"No." Dimitri cut his beta off. Incessant chatter, so many words...so little to say. "I have something else in mind."
****
Roland found Natasha waiting for him outside, her red hair floating on the breeze like a beacon. As he watched, she lifted a hand, catching a wayward strand and tucking it behind her ear. No sooner had she let go then the same strand sprung free.
Enchanted, Roland watched as every so often she went through the same motions, the act subconscious as she watched the going-ons around her. Eventually, she gave up, leaving her hair floating around her face. Roland decided he liked it better that way, wild and free.
Leaving her for the moment, Roland crossed the clearing. Marcus and some of the other males were sparring with a few of the young, the exercise more roughhousing than actual practice. Nearby, amused females shouted words of encouragement between bouts of laughter.
Seeing his beta approach, Marcus untangled himself from a set of gangly limbs and jogged over to meet Roland.
"Everything all good?" Marcus asked, his eyes darting to where Natasha stood separate and alone.
"There's not much good about that situation," Roland said. Sam's words of warning rang in his ears, a reminder that Roland didn't really do gentle. "But we'll get it sorted out. How are things out here?"
Marcus smiled, his usual humor lighting his eyes. "These young pups have sharp teeth!"
Roland laughed. "I suspect you're up to the task of teaching them some manners."
"Let's hope so," Marcus said. "Otherwise, you'll ne
ver let me live it down."
"It's not me you should be worried about," Roland said. Looking past Marcus, he noted more than one female shooting his friend not-so-subtle glances.
Embarrassed, Marcus shrugged and avoided looking at any of the females. At thirty-five, Marcus was young for a werewolf, having recently come into his maturity and not looking for a mate. But that didn't stop the females, many of who just wanted a run and a romp.
Roland threw back his head and laughed. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he walked them back towards the others. "Don't let these young pups see you blushing," Roland advised. "It's worse than letting them see you sweat."
Natasha watched as Roland left Marcus with the others. Circling back around, he made his way through the pack, stopping to touch or talk to those he passed.
He's checking on them, she realized, watching as Roland separated himself from the pack and started towards her. Clad in jeans and a t-shirt, Natasha found herself unable to look away, her attention caught by his long legs and the loose way he moved. He moved like the predator he was, his body was power in motion, and all of it bearing down on her.
Roland reached Natasha, stopping a few feet in front of her. "Sorry that took so long."
"It's okay," Natasha said, staring up at him. She felt the press of him, his big body towering over her. Such strength could easily be used to destroy. Her eyes flickered to the pack spread out over Roland's shoulder. He uses it to protect. Searching his face, seeing the way he watched her, Natasha realized that - for now - he considered her one of his to protect. For a being as strong as she was, feeling protected was a novel sensation.
"Nafarius is organizing the last hunt of the season, I wanted to get Marcus started before we left." He had no idea why he was explaining himself to her.
"Which one is Marcus?" Natasha asked, curious. She'd only met a few of the other pack members on her previous visits, Craig insisting they were there on business, not pleasure.
Roland glanced back at his friend. "The one currently getting his ass handed to him by a ten-year old."
Natasha smiled, watching the males.
Untamed (Wolf Lake) Page 4