by Cheree Alsop
The men gasped and stumbled over each other. The bald man threw a slow fist at Alex’s head. The werewolf stepped to the side in time for the man to fall into his friend with the goatee. Both men fell heavily against the door to Mr. O’Hare’s office.
Alex was in the middle of blocking punches and a kick from the three other men when the office door opened.
“What’s going on out here?” Mr. O’Hare demanded.
Alex looked from the men frozen in their various attacks back to Mr. O’Hare. He had thought Mr. O’Hare had set him up in an effort to launch his political attack against the school; however, it was clear by the expressions on the faces of the exhausted men around him that Alex’s theory was wrong.
The bald man lowered his attempt to drive a fist through Alex’s jaw. “I, uh, didn’t know you were back,” he said.
“It appears that way,” Mr. O’Hare answered flatly.
“We were just introducing ourselves to Mr. Davies, here,” a man with short gray hair said, straightening his tie.
Mr. O’Hare gave him the same flat look he often used with Alex. “Are you working on making a good impression for the Board, Welks?”
To the gray-haired man’s credit, he looked somewhat uncomfortable when he answered, “Of course.”
Silence settled over the hallway. The sound of the men’s heavy breathing as they fought to catch their breaths was harsh and loud. Satisfaction rose in Alex at the thought that he, on the other hand, wasn’t breathing hard at all. He folded his arms and leaned nonchalantly against the wall; a smile touched his lips at the discomfort of the exhausted grown men.
“I think we’re done here,” Mr. O’Hare finally said.
The bald man nodded. “Yes, we are.” He walked back up the hall. Three of the men followed.
Welks hung back. He glanced at Alex but refused to meet his steady gaze. Welks cleared his throat and gave Mr. O’Hare a straight look. “James, because we’re friends, I just want to warn you that the conversations around here haven’t been pleasant since you took your position.”
Instead of softening at the man’s apologetic tone, Mr. O’Hare appeared to stiffen even further. “Don’t make assumptions about where we stand, Welks. You know that friendship died long ago.”
The man’s statement deflated Welks further. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
Mr. O’Hare’s jaw tightened a moment before he said, “There’s nothing to let go. This conversation is over.”
Welks watched Mr. O’Hare for a brief minute, but the man stared past him at the empty hall. Welks let out a sigh and turned away. His footsteps echoed long after he had taken the turn at the end of the hall.
Mr. O’Hare’s answering sigh was so quiet Alex’s werewolf hearing barely caught it. His shoulders relaxed and he turned to Alex with the first sign of concern Alex had ever seen from the man.
“Are you alright?”
Alex nodded. “I’m fine. What was that?” He had his guess, but he wanted to know what the human’s thoughts were.
To his surprise, Mr. O’Hare answered his question as though speaking to a peer instead of talking down to him. “That, Alex, is the last-ditch effort of my superiors to bring the question of werewolves as individuals with rights to an end. If you had bloodied and broken them, you would be dragged out here and probably been given the death sentence in front of the nation to end this fight once and for all. Instead, you managed to save face and merely humiliate them.” Mr. O’Hare watched him closely. “Are you sure they didn’t hurt you? Remember, I’ve seen you fight a bear and walk away.”
Alex fought back a slight smile. “They didn’t touch me, though I’ll admit it took nearly every bit of self-control I have to defend instead of attack.” He paused, then said, “Until I realized how poorly trained they are.”
Mr. O’Hare actually let out a short laugh. His eyebrows rose as if the sound surprised him. “Sergeant Ryker would have something to say about that, I’m sure. Our saving grace will be that each of those men has too much pride to admit that an eighteen-year-old werewolf beat them without gaining so much as a scratch, and they have nothing to show for it. You may have single-handedly saved your precious Academy.”
“Really?” Alex kept his tone guarded, unwilling to give the man too much.
Mr. O’Hare raised one shoulder slightly. “That’s left to be seen, but you didn’t doom it.”
He turned away. Alex caught the briefest hint of fear in the air.
“Mr. O’Hare?”
The man paused with his hand on the open door to his office.
“Is that why you brought me here?” Alex asked. “Did you know they’d attack?”
Mr. O’Hare hesitated as though he debated what to say. He finally gave a slight nod, more to himself than to Alex as if he had made up his mind. “To be honest, I had no idea what to expect. The correspondence I have received since taking up my position at the Werewolf Academy—” He paused, then corrected himself, “At Vicky Carso’s Preparatory Academy, have been hostile to say the least. Many feel that if we approve the education at your school, it’ll close the gap between werewolf citizenship approval.”
Alex couldn’t contain the enthusiasm he felt at the man’s words. “That’s great!” he exclaimed.
The candidness Mr. O’Hare had shown vanished behind his expressionless wall once more. His look was flat when he replied, “As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing my job here and it’s a job that needs to be done. Prejudice aside, children need an education and it’s my duty to see that they are educated to the same degree as the rest of the nation. Until things are decided otherwise, Vicky Carso’s Preparatory Academy is still under intense scrutiny for educational measures and extremes of student activity beyond the guidelines approved by the Board. I’ll be done shortly. Stay here.”
Mr. O’Hare pulled the door shut with a sharp bang. Alex leaned back against the wall, baffled by what he had heard and seen. His trip to Mr. O’Hare’s office hadn’t cleared anything up. Instead, many more layers of politics had been revealed than he had imagined existed.
Chapter Ten
Alex’s eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. A shiver ran through his skin. He looked around the room.
Despite his insistence that the werewolves rejoin Jericho in his quarters, the pack that had chosen him had refused to listen. He thought back to the argument earlier that evening.
“You’re our Alpha,” Terith said and Von nodded at her side with a stubbornness the scrawny werewolf seldom showed.
“But what about the Choosing Ceremony?” Alex pointed out.
“You didn’t choose anyone.”
Alex stared at his sister. “Of course I didn’t! I’m not an Alpha.”
“You are,” Trent replied with the quiet persistence that showed up whenever Alex tried to debate the point.
Jordan nodded at her fiancé’s side.
Alex shook his head. “I’m not, and I’m not a good leader.”
“We’re still alive because of you.”
Silence filled the room after Tennison’s response. Alex let out a slow breath.
“I could argue that,” he finally said.
“But you’d be wrong,” Trent replied. “As your Second—”
Alex stared at him. “You’re my Second now?”
“Of course,” Trent told him. “I handle the details you don’t have time for; I make sure someone covers for you when you’re gone.” He gave Alex a straight look. “Like when you took off gallivanting with Mr. O’Hare without letting anyone know where you’d gone.”
“I wasn’t gallivanting,” Alex sputtered. “What does that even mean? I was forced to go with him and…” Alex shook his head with a huff. “That’s beside the point! I shouldn’t have a Second because I’m not an Alpha!”
“You are,” Trent replied.
Alex didn’t know whether to punch something or jump through a window. He felt as though the werewolves looking to him
to be their leader had no idea how unworthy he was to lead them. He could barely keep his own thoughts under control, much less meet the needs of seven other students who watched him with matching smiles as though they had already known the outburst he would make at their decision.
“Alex.”
He turned at the gentle touch to his arm. Siale’s gaze was soft and understanding. It took some of the frustration from him just to see it.
“Yes?” he asked quietly.
The little furrow formed between her eyebrows. “You need us, Alex.”
Her words were completely different than what he had expected.
“I need you,” he repeated with a hint of confusion.
Siale nodded and a slight smile turned the corners of her lips. “Werewolves need Alphas, and Alphas need their pack. You chose to be a lone wolf, but no werewolf is meant to be alone. A pack brings support, love, and stability.”
She held his gaze. He felt in that moment like they were completely alone. The instinctual part of him still tracked the werewolf students who watched them, but for the human side of him, everything else fell away. He held onto Siale’s words because he felt how much he needed them.
“Alex, you’ve done so much for all of us and for this school, and we know that the things you’ve had to do have scarred you.”
Alex felt laid bare as if her words took away his clothes, his skin, and exposed the marks on his soul that he carried from his encounters with the General, with Drogan, and in his rescues. He dropped his gaze, ashamed of how weak the scars made him.
“Alex,” Siale said softly. When he didn’t look up, she continued, “Someone once told me that my scars were beautiful because it meant I survived.”
Alex’s eyes burned when he looked back at her. “Yes,” he said, his voice rough through his tight throat. “But I think I’m past the point of beautiful. Sanity doesn’t feel like my strength anymore.”
Siale set a hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, concentrating on her touch.
“That’s why we’re here,” she said just above a whisper.
The silence that settled around them was filled with the breaths of the pack that had chosen him. Alex felt unworthy to be their leader, but they wouldn’t leave. He didn’t know what to do or how to face them.
“In the wild, wolves don’t choose the flashy new young wolf to lead them,” Cassie said from somewhere behind her brother.
Tennison spoke up when she stopped. “They choose the grizzled, scarred veteran wolf who knows how to protect them.”
“Nobody wants a leader that hasn’t been proven,” Von said.
“Yeah,” Terith echoed. “The point of leading is using what you’ve learned in your experiences to protect those who look to you for guidance.”
Alex turned around to face them. He asked the question that bothered him the most. “But what if I can’t lead?”
“You already have,” Trent said.
Tennison nodded. “You’ve led this entire school, Alex. We fought against Drogan’s men together, survived the mutants, and you’ve led our pack numerous times on Jaze’s missions. You lead all the time.”
Alex fought back a smile at the werewolf’s encouraging tone. “It’s a lot easier when there’s a mission to follow.” He waved a hand to indicate the room. “It’s this that I’m not good at, the everyday, making sure everyone’s needs are met stuff.”
“That’s why you have such a good Second,” Trent pointed out.
Jordan smiled from his side. “Yeah, and why you have a pack that can take care of itself. We picked an independent Alpha because we’re self-sufficient. You don’t need to walk us through our homework or anything.”
Everyone laughed at the thought. Alex had barely squeaked by the last several terms by studying Trent’s notes well past midnight for weeks and weeks. The little werewolf was the sole reason Alex had made it to his senior year. His best friend had been looking out for him ever since their very first term at the Academy.
He looked at Trent. “You’ve been my Second since we started here, haven’t you?”
A light of pride appeared in the smaller werewolf’s gaze. He lifted his shoulders in his usual shrug, but the same pride could be heard in his voice when he replied, “Someone had to help you survive the boring stuff.”
Alex made up his mind. He held out a hand. “Welcome to Pack Alex. Will you be my official Second?”
Trent stared at Alex. He shook his friend’s hand with a look of awe as though he hadn’t actually expected their argument to work. “Yes, I will,” he said, his eyes wide.
The other werewolf students laughed at his expression.
Alex grinned. “Thank you.” He looked around at the rest of his new pack. “And thank you for giving me a chance. I’ll try my best.”
“You already do,” Siale said.
Now Alex sat up, careful not to disturb his fiancé as she slept beside him on the couch. Despite his insistence that everyone pick a room in his quarters, they had all come back to sleep on the floor of the main room again. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the still forms on the floor. The sound of steady breathing and a few snores from Von’s corner filled the air.
Another chill ran across his skin. At that same moment, the watch Trent never took off his wrist buzzed. The small werewolf’s eyes flew open and he glanced at the screen.
“Alex?” he whispered.
“I’m up,” Alex replied. He climbed off the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Siale asked sleepily.
“I’ll find out and let you know,” Alex told her.
He followed Trent to the panel and stepped inside.
“What do you know?” he asked when they were far enough away from the others so as not to wake them.
“They found another lab and there’s a chance Drogan’s there.”
Alex paused. “Why aren’t we waking the others?”
“I’m not sure,” Trent said. His watched buzzed again. He glanced at it and his eyes widened. “Nikki just went into labor.”
Both boys took off down the tunnel into the darkness. Instead of turning to the Wolf Den, they took the branch for the medical ward. A few seconds later, the panel for the medical wing opened and they stepped through.
All of the professors already lined the halls. Vance gave Alex a nod while Gem smiled at them, her short blue hair askew at the late hour. Her hand strayed to her own noticeable belly. Colleen and Rafe sat in the chairs at the end of the hallway next to Mouse. It was one of the few times Alex could remember seeing Rafe within the Academy walls. The thought sent a thrum of worry through him.
“Is Nikki alright?” he asked Brock.
The human ran a hand through his messy brown hair in an effort to straighten it. His hair refused to obey. “I’m not sure. They’ve been rushing in and out. The last thing your mom said is that the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck.”
Ice ran through Alex’s veins. He wanted to go inside the operating room, but knew better. He was about to ask Gem what would happen to the baby when Jaze came out.
All eyes looked at him hopefully, but Jaze motioned only to Alex. Alex’s heart was tight as he followed the dean down the hallway to the small waiting area set aside for the nurses. Jaze leaned against the nearest couch looking more exhausted than Alex could ever remember seeing him.
“Alex, I need your help.”
“Anything,” Alex said immediately.
“We need to hit Drogan’s lab, but I’ve got to stay here with Nikki and the baby. You need to lead the team.”
Alex stared at the dean. “What about Chet or Vance? Surely there’s someone more qualified—”
Jaze shook his head. “You know Drogan, and you know what it takes to get everyone out of there alive. I need someone I can trust to lead my team. Can I count on you?”
Alex wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Jaze that there were so many other werewolves who should be entrusted before him. But Alex took anot
her look at the dean who had been a father figure for most of his life. Instead of the strong, determined leader of the Academy, he saw a father worried for his wife and unborn child; instead of the man who had taught him to fight like Jet, he saw his brother’s best friend pleading for a favor from someone he had never let down. Alex drew in a small breath and nodded.
“You can count on me.”
Jaze gave him a tired smile. “I knew I could.” He stood, his shoulders a bit straighter. “Brock will keep me posted on your progress. Be careful.”
“I will,” Alex promised.
He followed Jaze back up the hallway. The dean disappeared into the operating room without another word. All eyes shifted to Alex. Trent already stood by the panel waiting for Alex’s orders. Alex realized then why all of the professors were there. Many waited to see how Nikki and the baby were, but the others were Jaze’s team wondering if Alex would be able to take on the role of his mentor.
“Never stop fighting,” Alex whispered. He squared his shoulders and met Trent’s gaze. “Wake the others. We have a mission to accomplish.”
Trent nodded with a grin and disappeared back inside the hidden passage.
“What’s the plan?” Professor Chet asked.
Alex looked at his combat instructor. “If Drogan’s there, he’ll be protected. We need to make sure everyone is prepared for a firefight.”
“Got it,” Chet said. The Alpha motioned to Vance and Dray. The werewolves ducked inside the passage.
“Mouse,” Alex began.
The little werewolf cut him off. When Alex looked down at the little professor, he was surprised to see the older werewolf drop his gaze the way he did whenever he addressed an Alpha.
“I would prefer to stay with Jaze in case they need help with the delivery,” Mouse asked with his eyes on the floor.
Caught off-guard, Alex didn’t know what to say. His gaze flickered to Brock. The human nodded encouragingly.