Wolver's Reward

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  "Yes, I felt them. When I hit him, and I think my knuckles are swollen because of it," Arnold sulked.

  "I only meant if you're attracted to that sort. Perhaps," he offered, giving Rosemary a hug and letting Arnold off the hook, "he displayed a bit too much of the animal, for my taste anyway."

  Darla snorted. "In case you've forgotten, Lawrence. We are animals and that cub was prime."

  "He's not a cub," Reb objected, though quietly.

  She couldn't stop thinking about him, about the way he'd looked at her, about how angry he became. He looked like he thought she was the one who needed help instead of the other way around. And when she hit him, he didn't look angry then. He looked... Reb mentally shrugged, but she couldn't get that look in his eyes out of her mind.

  After she'd hit him with the bat and he'd looked at her with those sad and beautiful eyes, she was sure the pain in them didn't come from the blow. He looked at her as if she'd betrayed him, which she had, she supposed. He'd stopped to help and she'd whomped him with a bat. She'd whomped him again, because she didn't want to hear him ask,

  "What kind of wolver are you? How could you do this to a perfect stranger who meant you no harm?"

  "Needs must that the devil drives," she consoled herself with the Shakespearian quote. She'd had no choice. Necessity compelled her to do what had to be done.

  "That devil could drive me anytime." Celia squirmed in the seat beside her. "My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh." She giggled again.

  Reb had forgotten the beginning of the quote. It wasn't really relevant, or was it? No, it couldn't be. The leather jacket, worn no doubt, to show off the breadth of his shoulders; the heavy boots that drew attention to his muscular legs; the chain hanging from his waist that directed the eye to his hips, the high, rounded buttocks at the base of his tapered back, and yes, fine, the fly of his jeans at the front; it was perfectly normal to speculate, but those weren't things she would find attractive. No, it had nothing to do with the way his tee shirt clung to his chest, or the slight slouch to his shoulders as he sauntered up to offer his help. No, she wasn't driven on by the flesh.

  Reb wasn't, but her wolf was. It yipped and rolled and spun around inside her.

  "I thought he was dreamy."

  Reb was distracted from her thoughts by Rosemary's whisper. "What?"

  "I thought he was dreamy," Rosemary said, a hair louder than the first time. "He had one of those looks you read about in books, dark and menacing, but not, if..."

  "Well, what would you expect?" Arnold interrupted. "We attacked him. I'd look the same way if I was in that position."

  "No you wouldn't. You'd squeal like a pup."

  Darla's insult stung. "I thought I behaved admirably."

  "He didn't retaliate when I hit him," Rosemary offered.

  "That's because he thought you were a mosquito." Celia flicked her hand at Arnold's shoulder to demonstrate.

  "Ow. Be careful. I have a bruise there. And I'm driving," he added lest anyone think he was squealing.

  That was Reb's observation as well. When Rosemary hit him, he'd looked at their little mouse with surprise. She'd half thought he was going to laugh. He could have hit her. He would have hurt her, but he didn't. He could have hurt Darla, too, but Darla swore that wasn't his intent, and Darla knew about these things.

  He wasn't dark, though. His skin was burnished copper and freckled. His hair, she thought, was brown, but it was hard to tell as wet as it was from the rain. His eyes were brown, though, so deep and dark they were almost black. Those eyes would haunt her for days.

  "I'm glad you thought he was dreamy." Lawrence was saying. He patted Rosemary's knee. "And good for you, too. It's about time you sat up and paid attention. Maybe by the end of the festivities you'll find someone else to dream about."

  "Wouldn't that be wonderful," Celia said on a sigh.

  That was the dream, wasn't it? Reb stated it aloud. "Maybe everyone will find what they're looking for." She added the source of the quote that gave her the excuse for her awful behavior and which also included her hopes for the Chase. "All's Well That Ends Well," she said, but she knew in her heart it was unlikely to end well for her.

  She turned her head to the back seat to include them in her smile, but the smile died when she saw Darla staring at her with a look she'd never seen in her nursemaid's eyes before. Darla blinked and the look was gone, but not before Reb recognized it for what it was.

  Her best friend in the whole world had looked at her with pity.

  Chapter 5

  After dropping the others off to clean up the evidence of their wrongdoing, Darla drove the truck to the designated place of the Chase. It was an area in the wildlife preserve that had been closed off to the public. A heavy chain blocked the access road and on it hung a metal sign that read KEEP OUT. When she stopped to remove the barrier, Reb got out, too.

  "Give me a few minutes head start," she said. "We need all their attention on me if we're going to pull this off."

  If asked directly, they couldn't lie to their Alpha, but if the question wasn't asked, they could keep the secret of what they'd done. While her parents fussed over her arrival, Darla would park the truck unnoticed and take another car to retrieve the others. They could all make it back in time for the Chase to begin.

  The plan worked. Her father, still not fully recovered from a recent fall, was so relieved to see her, he happily took her mother's suggestion to nap for a few minutes while Becky was groomed.

  Her mother was not as happy as her father.

  "This is your mating day. We should have had hours to see to your dress, not minutes. Even the guests were aware of your absence. The evening has been tense enough without your late arrival adding to your father's stress." She began pulling things from the closets and drawers. "Get your things off and let's see what can be done with your hair. There's no time to arrange it as we planned."

  "Does it really matter?" Reb asked. "They'll see me for like three minutes and then I'll be running for my life through the woods."

  "You won't be running for it," her mother snapped. "You'll be running to it." She didn't sound like she believed it either. Her hand shook as she picked up the brush.

  Reb reached for it. "Mother, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing," her mother denied and then relented. "Oh, I suppose it's only because I'm losing my little girl, but I don't like the feel of this. I've never seen it done like this before. Our parents made the final decision before your father and I even met. Our mating began with dining and dancing. Everyone was having a good time before the moon began to rise. This," she waved the brush as she spoke, "This isn't a mating. It feels more like the prelude to a horserace."

  And she was the horse. "It will be fine, Mother," Reb said, because what else was there to say? She'd changed her mind? It was way too late for that, and whether it was now or a year from now, or ten years from now, she would still be sold off like the family cow.

  "I wish your father had allowed me to interview these Alphas, given me some say in the choice. I would have known what to look for."

  "I had a choice, Mother."

  "Oh, what do you know? You're a cub." Her mother sounded angry and Reb answered in kind.

  "No, Mother, I'm not a cub, and it was my idea in the first place. I had a choice," she insisted more for herself than for her mother.

  "Nonsense. None of us have a choice. We have a duty to marry an Alpha. That choice is made for us the day we are born and we must live with the consequences."

  "Mother," Reb cried, turning in her seat, "Please don't tell me that you and Daddy..."

  Her mother looked stricken. Her hand flew to the base of her throat and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, all anger was gone, replaced with the gentle softness Reb knew. "No, no, of course not, dear. I love your father, truly and deeply. You must never doubt that for a minute." She fanned her face with her hands. "I suppose it's just the day, the circumstances. When you didn't show
up, it brought back memories of my mating day, of how frightened I was." The Mate placed her fluttering hands on her daughter's shoulders and bent low so their faces were side by side in the mirror. "I remembered how much I wanted to run away."

  "I didn't run away, Mother. We had car trouble, that's all. I wouldn't run away. My mother raised me to be stronger than that." Reb smiled to reassure her mother that everything was all right.

  "We should have given you more time," her mother whispered against Reb's hair before she kissed her cheek.

  But what difference would it have made?

  Reb let her mother fuss and when she was finished, she stood back to survey her handiwork. "You're beautiful."

  And she was. Reb turned this way and that in the simple snow white gown. The mirror didn't lie. The gown was made for her and fit her perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and creamy and her mother's deft hand with makeup had prevented it from looking washed out. Faint blush colored her cheeks and mascara darkened her lashes. Her eye lids shimmered with pale color that looked natural with her pale skin. Her lips were soft and plumply pink and her pale, almost white blonde hair framed her face in a fall of shiny silk. A wreath of flowers in the same muted pastels as adorned her face, circled her head like a crown.

  At the sight of her, the Alpha's eyes misted over. "You're as beautiful as your mother was on the day we mated. I never thought to see something so beautiful as that again. Be happy, my beautiful girl."

  "I will, Father. I am."

  And then Reb was finally left alone with her thoughts and those thoughts didn't include her happiness at becoming an Alpha's Mate. She'd faked her smiles and her reassurances. Her mother had taught her how to mask her feelings and the woman had taught her well. Neither of her parents suspected what she was hiding inside. She was terrified. She didn't want to be the mate of a stranger who had no idea who she was. She didn't want to be a Mate and lose herself under the mantle of an Alpha. And yet, her mother was right. There was no choice. In her one last act of rebellion as an Alpha's daughter, her one last statement of who she was, Reb changed her snowy white slippers for the orange sneakers on the floor by the bed.

  ~*~

  "Fuck."

  River leapt to his feet. Five minutes had turned into two hours. He'd fallen asleep, not just asleep, but sound asleep. Sight, smell, and hearing had been cut off completely. A herd of deer could have pranced right over him and he wouldn't have known. He struck the tree trunk with the flat of his hand as if it were the culprit.

  Two hours! That alone was proof of how soft he'd become living with the Wolf's Head Pack where everyone slept in soft, comfy beds in heated rooms and never had to worry about the things that could hurt them or kill them in their sleep.

  For the first year he was with them, he'd been afraid of those beds. He'd spent his nights sitting upright in a chair, dozing, but never sleeping soundly. He would have preferred the floor as the cubs did at first, but he was afraid the Alpha would banish him from the room completely. It took months before he was comfortable with the girls sleeping in a separate room and even though he told himself they were safe, he had to check on them three or four times during the night just to be sure.

  Sound sleep was dangerous. He'd learned that as a pup when kicks or blows would follow his name if he didn't immediately answer. Later, he'd learned that names were irrelevant as long as someone answered the call. He'd taken on the responsibility to answer most as a way of protecting the pups below him. He was faster, stronger, and more able to tolerate the abuse sometimes administered by the adult wolvers in the name of training. Only the strong survived. River had known pups that didn't. Pups were a burden the pack didn't need.

  Wolf's Head was different. There, pups were cherished. Cubs were brought up with strict, but gentle discipline. They were valued members of the pack. As much as River appreciated the lack of abuse, a part of him could never let go of the idea that their methods also made for weak wolvers.

  He'd allowed himself to become weak and failure was the result. He still had another twenty-five miles to go. He would then have to find them, and need even more time to scout them out. There was no way he could make it all happen by moonrise and he had to be there and ready when the thieves went over the moon.

  Brain fogged by the blows it had suffered, it had taken him a while to put it together. Why was such a small band of wolvers venturing so far from home? They weren't rogues. They weren't vicious enough. He'd seen enough newly made rogues to know that.

  Vacationers? Sure, some wolvers vacationed in the same way their human cousins did. Alpha Goodman and his Mate had gone on several. If their trip came with the full moon, they usually made plans to be near an open area where they could shift and run freely when it called. Though River vaguely recalled the thieves' words, there was a sense of urgency and concern to them that didn't fit with a trip taken for fun.

  When the answer came to him, he almost smacked his own head at the simplicity of it. They were headed for a rendezvous with other wolvers. Wolf's Head regularly ran with Rabbit Creek. Not only were the Alphas brothers, the two packs shared the mountain. River had heard of a southern pack that sponsored a festival each year that drew wolvers from around the country. Jo, Ryker's mate, claimed it was a relaxed way for wolvers from various packs to make contact, to network she called it. She also laughingly called it a meet and greet for prospective mates, since mating outside the pack was encouraged.

  River was convinced that this was the purpose of the thieves' journey. They were meeting others at the wildlife preserve, the perfect place to go over, to shift, when the moon called.

  "Hurry," she'd said. "We have to get to the preserve."

  "Are you sure you're doing the right thing?"

  "Right or wrong, it has to be done. We can't afford to be late."

  The urgency and fear still baffled him. Maybe they were going without their Alpha's permission. Maybe he was already there and expecting them. According to Ryker, different Alpha's had different expectations when it came to obedience.

  In any event, River was sure the band would be there tonight and the males would run. If their Alpha was there to use his power to take them over, the females would run, too.

  River needed to be there when that happened. He would fight the moon's call and remain human. When everyone else shifted, he'd be free to steal back his motorcycle and hopefully his truck.

  He'd counted on five hours. Now he had three. It couldn't be done. His body lacked the energy it needed for such a run. He hadn't eaten much for several days and, as he'd just proven, he was exhausted. His man's body was stronger than a human's but it wasn't invincible.

  He felt his anger rising and he tilted his head back, ready to howl out his frustration at the injustice of it all to the dying light of day. And then he felt it as he always did; his mistress' call. The moon was filling him with the power he would need to shift when her glowing face rose over the horizon. He'd been feeling her pull for days. Each time he ran, he felt her.

  It was natural to feel the full moon's call this close to her rising. It was natural to be anxious with anticipation for the shift that was hours away. What wasn't natural was the feeling that he was ready to go over the moon now, before the moon rose.

  His wolf felt her, too. The animal had been restless since the willowy bitch had stolen his bike. It was impatient with the rides as if it didn't understand that wheels were faster than legs. It growled and dug at him to run faster in between the rides and pulled at him to run overland as the crow flies. Like River, the animal tended to keep its thoughts to itself or express them in snarls and growls. When it did speak, its message was always short and succinct; as it was now.

  "Go. Find. Free."

  "Fucking easy for you to say," River muttered angrily. "You have four legs and can run twice as fast."

  His wolf snapped its jaws together so hard, River winced at the feeling of the massive force those jaws contained.

  "Shift," it snarled.

&nb
sp; It had happened twice before when he was so angry he thought his skin would burst with it. Both times had been within hours of the moon's rising, once in broad daylight. The transition wasn't smooth. It came without thought and it frightened him so badly he tripped over his own paws and skid over the rough ground on his face. His wolf had been close to the surface then, too.

  He'd never told anyone about those unnatural shifts. A wolver male needed his Alpha's power to shift without the full moon, and he was afraid of what his sudden change meant. Did it mean he'd lost control of his wolf? As much as he loved the wild, River had no wish to turn feral and remain in his wolf form permanently. Pack Alphas had the power to force that change, too.

  Could he force the shift? Should he?

  The animal inside him snarled and snapped again.

  "Fine," River snarled back, "But if I end up spending the rest of my life as a wolf, it's gonna be a fucking short one, because I'll find the nearest highway and stand in front of the first big rig that comes along. Got it?"

  His wolf chuffed and wagged its tail.

  Inner argument over, River stripped down to his boxers, bundled his clothing and boots in his shirt and stood there feeling more like a jackass than a wolf. He tilted his head back, spread his arms wide, and let the call of the moon fill him. He had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

  His wolf did, though. Like a beacon guiding ships to shore, his wolf drew the moon's power into physical being. It howled with triumph as it rose to the surface and burst through the human form that contained it. Light flared as flesh and bone transformed. Hands and fingers molded into long toed paws. Claws grew where nails once were. Sharp teeth replaced flat molars as his snout elongated and ears pointed upward. His body tingled with the growth of fur and the pinch of his tail sprouting from the base of his spine made him yip and turn to bite at it.

  Holy shit, it worked! He'd never felt it like that before. The transition probably took no more than five or six seconds, but that was four or five more than normal. Over the moon is over in a flash was a common joke among wolvers. This was no joke. He'd felt every bit of the miracle that was wolver. Damn! He wanted to feel it again.