Wolves of Black Pine (The Wolfkin Saga Book 1)

by SJ Himes

  “The first beta knocked out the Alpha, and raised his sword to kill him, when the Heir threw himself over his Alpha to protect him. Apparently, from what I was told, all it took was one look in each other’s eyes, and a feud that had been raging for nearly a century was over. The beta dropped his sword, let the Alpha and Heir live, and the two new lovers, the young Heir and first beta, became the first soulbonded pair of either Clan.”

  “How could it be over? So two wolves fell in love at first sight? That wouldn’t make the other wolves stop fighting.”

  Sophia sat up and glared at him. He shrugged, and she kicked him again, this time in the side. “Don’t you remember your history lessons?”

  “What do you mean? Kane is the history buff, not me. I know there are two types of bonds between wolves, mating and soul. Soul’s the rarest, maybe one out of a million pairings are soulbonds. So what?”

  “Our histories tell us that a soulbond is a gift directly from the Great Mother and is sacred above all things. To interfere in a soulbonded pairing is a violation of Her Gift and will incur our Great Mother’s wrath. To continue feuding would put the first beta and the Heir in jeopardy, and neither of the lovers were willing to leave their homes. So they stopped fighting.”

  “So because of an old legend about our Goddess making soul pairings a sacred gift, a century-long clan feud was over?” Burke asked, incredulous. “Seriously?”

  Sophia sat up all the way, and took the bottle from him, putting it on the floor. She gave him such a stern and exasperated look that he swallowed nervously, seeing the unspoken threat to wallop him in her eyes. “You are banned from drinking, Burke. It makes you stupid. When we confronted Luca at the cabin, and he used his gifts, why did we stop attacking him? Why did we all automatically believe he wasn’t one of the traitors, even though he was trespassing, and in league with unknown humans?”

  “That’s easy! He’s a shaman, and a shaman answers to the ….” Burke blinked and trailed off, the alcohol burning off faster as his metabolism caught up to the massive amount of whiskey he’d consumed.

  “A shaman answers directly to the Great Mother, from whom their Gifts originate, and they cannot act in violation of Her Will.” Sophia finished for him, smug. He could hear the capital letters in her voice as she spoke. “So if you can believe that Luca is innocent of treason and conspiracy to commit murder simply because he is a shaman, then why can’t you believe that a soulbonded pairing is a blessing directly from our Goddess?”

  “Huh.”

  “The great Speaker of Black Pine says, ‘huh’. Very eloquent.” She rolled her eyes at him, and he grabbed one of her feet, tickling her. She gasped and swatted him in the shoulder. He grimaced, and let her go. “Remember when I said Luca was going to be trouble, back at the cabin?”

  “Yeah, what did you mean?”

  “If we’re right, and Kane and Luca are soulbonded, then we have a serious problem.”

  The alcohol was burning out of his system fast, and he sat up, staring hard at the beta. He had a feeling where this was going, and his heart began to race with dread.

  “The ancient alphas were stripped of half their powers, and then those gifts were given to the first shamans by the Great Mother. She then made it so only males could be shamans, ensuring no alpha could create a mating bond with a female shaman, and have an alpha regain control of the spirit gifts. And we assumed…. we assumed that because only the Goddess can create a soulbond, we needn’t worry about an alpha and shaman coming together in that fashion, because the Goddess wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Shit.” He swore sharply and got up from the couch, pacing.

  “Shit sums it up pretty well.”

  “Wolves share their Gifts across a regular mating bond, but it’s not reliable, and the wolves involved can shut it down if they want or a Shaman can break a forced pairing. A soulbonded pair? That’s almost always reliable when it comes to a power exchange, and since they’re bonded at the soul, they can’t keep the other half of the pairing out,” he said, almost to himself, low enough Sophia had to lean forward to hear him.

  Burke stopped pacing, fists clenched, as if he were ready to fight off unseen enemies that meant his best friend harm. And they would come. Once the truth was out about the bond between Luca and Kane, they would come, from every corner of the globe, to either strike down the perceived violation of their laws, or to try and exploit it. The repercussions of the soulbond could destroy the balance of power and everything they held dear.

  An Alpha soulbonded to a Shaman was anathema, contrary to their histories and their Laws, and he was afraid the sacred blessing that such a union usually conveyed on the soul-pair wouldn’t be enough to keep everyone safe.

  THE SNOW crunched underfoot, the moon high overhead in an ink black sky, and the trees moved in an icy wind that should have left him cold, but didn’t. Stars were small and seemed far away, bare pinpricks of light that wavered in the dark sky. He was standing in a clearing, the virgin expanse of white a perfect circle around what looked like a broken tree stump, weathered by countless years of exposure to the elements, about three feet tall, and just as wide, the surface of it smooth and flat.

  He walked, and the snow cracked like gunshots under his bare feet as he made his way to the stump. There was something shimmering on it, and when he got close enough, he saw it was a length of cloth. It shone like liquid moonlight, and he was gazing down at it, bemused, when a slim and elegant hand entered his view and delicately picked it up.

  He raised his eyes to see a woman, naked and lithe, wrap herself in the mooncloth. It left her arms and shoulders bare but for a strip around her throat, and the hem stopped just above her knees. She was tall for a woman, with skin as white as the snow upon which they stood, her limbs smooth and soft looking. She should have appeared washed out, considering the lack of color, but she shone with health and vitality. She had a head of thick, long black hair that hung in a silky fall to her hips. Her lips were curved and plump, a soft pink that matched the light blush on her high cheekbones.

  She tied the mooncloth at her waist and gave him a smile as bright and gentle as the light that fell over them. Her eyes were a dark blue, and they sparkled, and as she moved, her skin shimmered as if was covered in frost, or silver dust. She sat on the wide surface of the tree stump and patted the open space next to her.

  “Come sit with me, Shaman.” Her voice was deep, flowing like maple syrup left out in the cold, sweet and heavy.

  He joined her on the stump, and she sighed happily, leaning her shoulder on his. She smelled like snow and warm blood, reminding him of a fresh kill after a long hunt. He breathed in deep, every nerve coming alive. She gave him a quick smile as she looked at him out of the corner of her depthless eyes, and he couldn’t stop the smile that stretched his lips in return.

  “I love full moons, don’t you?” she asked him as they leaned companionably on each other. She was warm, and he should have been colder than he was, considering he was naked as she had been only a minute before.

  He gazed up to the moon in all its glory, filling the sky, its light so bright and inescapable that he could see clearly all the way across the small field. If not for the silver quality of the light and the stars winking in the royal blue sky, it could have been high noon in summer.

  “I never really noticed the moon, truthfully.” His own voice startled him, and he jumped a little. He didn’t even recognize the sound, as it was deeper than he recalled, and smoother. His words were accent-less, unlike most of the other wolves he’d encountered earlier that night. At least he thought it was the same night; this place was rather timeless. “Aside from whether or not it was bright enough to hunt by.”

  “A wild wolf rarely notices things outside of what’s necessary for survival,” she said, and he saw that her breath didn’t frost the air as his did. He blew out a lungful of air, and smiled as it frosted in a cloud befor
e disappearing. She laughed softly at him, and waved a slim hand. A shower of light fell on them, and glittered on their shoulders and arms like raindrops. He touched one with a fingertip, and it disintegrated on contact. She laughed softly, and spoke again. “Tell me, my Shaman, what do you think of the moon now?”

  He lifted his head, and went back to looking at the silver orb that was so close he felt like he should be able to reach out and touch it. He saw the dark valleys and craters on its surface and the smooth untouched expanses, looking both hard and unforgiving as it did soft and welcoming.

  “An accurate description, Shaman,” she said, and he realized that she plucked the thoughts effortlessly from his head. She laughed gaily and nudged him with her shoulder. “So I did, so I did. None of my wolves can hide their thoughts from me.”

  “Why would they try?” he asked her, thinking he had no reason to hide anything from her. She was no frail creature to hide from unpleasant or embarrassing things, and she was strong enough she could shoulder the weight of all their worries, and continue on, unfazed.

  “Because many of my wolves are ashamed, or scared, or hurt, and instead of asking for my help, they hide from me, and each other. They hide the weaknesses that make them cruel, they hide the hurts that make them ashamed, and they hide their true natures and their own inner truths because they fear my disapproval. Many of my children would be happier if they only trusted me and asked for my help.”

  “Why wouldn’t they ask?” It seemed simple to him. She was willing to help, wanted to help, and it made perfect sense to ask. The worst she could do was say no, right? She didn’t seem the vengeful type to him, to punish someone for asking for something they shouldn’t.

  “Some don’t believe, or they fear my wrath. And some,” she turned to him then, her face stern, and he blinked in surprise, “...some of them don’t realize they should ask for help.”

  “Me?” he asked, wondering what he needed from her. He was alive and no longer alone. To ask for more seemed selfish, somehow. He was too small a worry for her to bother with, considering the needs of a whole species weighed against his troubles.

  She growled then, a sound so purely lupine that he couldn’t help but smile at the incongruous combination of that dangerous noise coming from such a fair and beautiful face.

  “You are stubborn, aren’t you?” She laughed, and took one of his hands in hers.

  He stared down at their joined hands, and it took a moment for him to realize why it felt so odd. She was holding his hand—his wholly human hand, free of claws and fur. Their joined hands rested on his bare human knee. He gasped and looked down. His feet were bare in the snow, human toes curling as he stared. His chest was bare, hairless and well-defined, as was his stomach. His legs were strong and lean, not an ounce of baby weight on him. His last memory of his human self was that of a little boy, and it did not match the grown and very adult body he wore now.

  “Oh!” he gasped and gazed in wonder at his free hand, lifting it in front of his face, watching as his unmarred and slim fingers bent and curled, how his wrist moved, the muscles flexing in his forearm.

  She laughed gently and grabbed his hand, pulling his attention back to her. She smiled at him, her pink lips shining and smooth, and she leaned over, kissing his cheek. He smiled at the touch of her kiss on his human face, and he couldn’t recall ever feeling this happy. Aside from the moment he reunited with Kane, he was happier than he’d ever been in his life.

  She sat back, and smiled at him. “Well?”

  “Can you help me find my way back to my human form? Please?” he asked, remembering the manners his mother taught him just in time, not wanting to offend.

  “I don’t need to.”

  “You don’t?” he was confused, and she squeezed his hands. Her grip was powerful, far stronger than her delicate hands should be capable.

  “You sought me out, in your dreams. You came here, to this place,” she waved her finger, indicating the snow-bound meadow where they sat, “in your human form already. You hold the key to regaining what you’ve lost.”

  “I do? How?” She smiled at him, endlessly patient, and he felt foolish, obviously missing her point.

  “Tell me how you’ve felt, since the day you found your wolf. What emotions were always present?”

  He sat and thought about it, watching as she played with his fingers, a move so silly for a being such as her that it somehow relaxed him. He remembered with remarkable clarity every day of his life, from the moment Glen and Cat took him away, to the moment he looked up into Kane’s eyes as an adult.

  “Frustration, grief, and loneliness. I love Glen and Cat, but I’ve been very lonely for a long time.”

  “Were you happy?”

  He didn’t even have to think about it. “No. I was reasonably content, but I wouldn’t say I was really happy.”

  “What else was missing?”

  This took him longer, and he looked up at the moon. He sighed, frustrated, but he had to say it. “Hope was missing, I think. I was so frustrated, so lonely, that I gave up.”

  Tears were falling, freezing on his cheeks, and he looked back down at the creature beside him as she wiped the icy drops away. Her fingers were warm and gentle, and she gave him a small nod of approval.

  He exhaled, and then pulled in a deep breath, thinking. “I’ve been holding myself back, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, you have.” She hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Her hair was soft on his jaw, and he breathed in the scent of her. Blood, snow, and clean fur. “Keep going, you’re really close.”

  “I lost Grandpa Shadow after he showed me how to find my wolf.” She hummed as he spoke, and he took that as a sign to keep speaking. “He showed me something that I shouldn’t have been able to do, not so young and in that manner. I knew he was surprised and tried to hide it. He wasn’t expecting it to work, but it did. I did it because I believed in him, but then he left, and I couldn’t Change back. I thought it was because he wasn’t around anymore to show me.”

  “He was inordinately proud of you, just so you know. Bragged about you for a long time,” she told him, and he laughed, imagining his grandfather doing just that. She poked his side to keep him talking, and he caught her hand, holding it so she wouldn’t keep tickling him. He was ticklish, who knew?

  “So… when I tried to Change back, and couldn’t, I got frustrated. If I had just taken my time, and not been afraid or so worried, I think I would have managed it. Cat and Glen found me and took me away. I was afraid, and lonely, and frustrated. While I knew they wouldn’t hurt a wolf cub, I was afraid as I grew older that they would hurt me if they knew what I was. That they wouldn’t want me anymore if they knew I was wolfkin, and they were all I had,” he paused, surprised by his own thoughts, of the words coming out of him. He hadn’t been able to think this clearly in years. He was seeing things that made sense now, but hadn’t while he was a wolf. “And the longer I spent in wolf-form, the less I remained in touch with my human emotions and ability to reason. So I stayed a wolf at first to hide, waiting perhaps for Kane to find me, not understanding he wouldn’t be able to, and I got even more frustrated and lost what hope I had left. And, because I was more wolf than man at that point, I didn’t realize what I had done to myself.”

  He looked back at his past, regret and bitter disappointment welling up. He felt the knowledge bite at him, and he pushed it back, refusing to give in to the cycle. He traced those hurtful emotions to their genesis and cut them out, letting the emotions float away into nothing as he repeated his conclusion, not at all surprised anymore by what he’d discovered.

  “I stayed a wolf because I gave up. As a wolf, at least I had a place, no matter how badly I fit in it. I gave up—not just on finding my humanity again, but on finding my family, my home. I gave up on my future. I did this to myself.”

  She smiled at him, pride shining in her
eyes. She stood, and he mourned the loss of her unshakeable presence at his side, even as she cupped his face in both hands. The moon crowned her shoulders and head, and he was embraced by her shadow. Her eyes were glowing, the deep blue of a twilight sky, the horizon an endless amalgamation of darkness and light.

  “And that, my love, that right there, is why you are a shaman. You can see yourself, know yourself, with a clarity and an honesty that you can then use in your life and duties. I am very proud of you.” She bent down and kissed his forehead. “Tell me what you have now, my shaman, which will make the difference in finding your human half.”

  “I have happiness and hope. I have every reason to become a man now.” He smiled and felt free, lighter, as if he could do anything. “I haven’t tried to find my human form at all since I came home. I just assumed I couldn’t do it. Maybe I should have tried instead of having a fit, huh?”

  She laughed with him, still holding his face, and her smile was the whole world, more beautiful than the moon showering light down on the meadow.

  “I think that would have been wise, my shaman. But never despair, you have reasons aplenty to try now, the best of them is the love that is waiting for you. Return to your soulmate with my blessings.” She pulled back, or maybe he did, the shadows dimming the light of the meadow, her eyes becoming the night sky as she faded from his sight.

  “I have a task or two for you when you get back, after you learn to walk as a man. Listen, just listen, and you’ll know what to do. And my love, if you have need of me, all you have to do is ask.”

  “GHOST! WAKE up!” A voice called to him and he stirred, wanting to stay in the welcoming place of his dreams. He heard a faint feminine laugh in his ears, and it pushed him to wakefulness.

  He saw the fire in front of him, reduced now to fading embers, and felt the heat and weight of an arm wrapped around his ribs, under his front legs. He felt safe and cared for, the red starlight of the man who held him burning brightly in the back of his mind. He was at peace and no longer weighed down by frustration or despair. He felt nothing but a sense of belonging and joy. He was home.