Alpha's Hunt

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Alpha's Hunt Page 18

by Aimee Easterling


  The image of Ruth dancing naked out of the darkness at Wolf Camp slapped me. She’d been relaxed, smiling. As if she’d just gotten lucky...

  ...with Justice, who’d emerged moments later from the same direction?

  This time, Ruth’s fingers dug so deep into my skin they formed instant bruises. “Tell him and die. I mean it, Honor.”

  Despite the pack’s predicament, I couldn’t resist correcting her manners. “I think what you meant to say was, ‘Honor, could you please keep my pregnancy a secret from your favorite cousin?’”

  “He isn’t your favorite.”

  So she and Justice had swapped more than bodily fluids? I blinked again...only to be reminded of the more pressing issue when a radio crackled far too close for comfort.

  “The cops are getting restless,” Ruth hissed. “Are you helping or are you hindering?”

  The pain I’d forgotten for one split second fell back upon me. We weren’t out of the woods yet. “You’re sure you can shift her?”

  “I’m certain.”

  “Then I’ll keep your secret,” I promised, shivering into my pelt so I could more easily work my way through the crowd.

  Chapter 39

  Whatever passed between Aunt May and Ruth must have been effective. Because the tension in the room ratcheted down when I was only halfway to my destination.

  Luke noted the change also. Unfolding upward, he took command of the situation before I could share Ruth’s request. “Up against the wall,” he ordered in that whip-crack alpha voice.

  And this time it worked. Presumably because the pack wanted what Luke wanted. Or maybe because bonds were forming? No matter the reason, I missed parts of what happened next because I was caught up in the sea of wolves scrambling to obey his command.

  Still, I breathed a sigh of relief when Cop Number One reached Aunt May’s body and commented: “Grisly.” Grace nattered on about makeup artists and plastic guns until Justice materialized in the doorway claiming to be Alec Carmichael’s lawyer. Before long, two-legger footsteps retreated up the stairs, cut off at last by the clang of closing cellar doors.

  The only ones left in the dark, dank cellar were me and the skinless. The skinless...who were still locked in a contest of uncertain leadership.

  “This isn’t finished.”

  Victor’s statement was all it took for the battle lines to begin reforming. This time, though, Ruth stepped into the open space between.

  “No,” she said simply. “Aunt May challenged and lost. We have an alpha and we have an heir. The Hunt is over.”

  A spark of ozone from the back of the crowd was followed by a question. “What heir?”

  “My son,” Ruth answered, hand falling to cup her naked belly. “Luke’s nephew. A direct descendent of the Acosta line.”

  Skinless froze. Heads cocked. This time, the murmur was united and interested.

  Meanwhile, Luke’s blue eyes latched onto mine, a question in their depths. Was this acceptable to me? Did I mind that any children of ours would never become pack leaders?

  If our bond had been operational, I would have told him that I was ecstatic. That the pressure to churn out babies wasn’t something I wanted. That I wasn’t so sure I could handle any child of mine being thrown into the shark-filled waters that surrounded being alpha of a pack.

  But our bond wasn’t operational, so all I did was nod. And Luke accepted that. Strode over to his sister and gave the pack permission to follow. “You may smell the heir of the pack.”

  NOSES IN CROTCHES WERE, apparently, kosher among skinless. Wolves sniffed. Tails wagged. A few shifted upwards and called out questions that Ruth didn’t deign to answer.

  “He’s mine. That’s all that matters,” she said eventually. In response, a joyous howl enfolded us as Ruth’s unborn child was accepted as future leader of the pack.

  Accepted by some...not by all. A handful of skinless hung back around Victor. Their mutters weren’t quite audible to my ears, but Luke must have heard because he spoke in that alpha whip-crack. “Anyone unwilling to follow me, Ruth, and her son can leave the pack. Now.”

  Victor took a long step toward the door, tendons rising on either side of his neck as he strained against the compulsion. He didn’t quite manage to turn to face Luke, but he did bite out a rejoinder. “Do you really want that? Do you want us to walk out of here carrying knowledge of your mate’s weakness?”

  Luke and I weren’t technically mates at the moment. But his growl didn’t take that into account. “You can tell anyone you want that Honor is a woelfin. They’ll have to come through me to get to her.”

  A murmur from the wolves around us. Most hadn’t known my secret. That knowledge alone weakened Luke’s standing, and it was about to get worse.

  Because I had a sister. Two cousins. All with pelts that could be filched...or were already missing.

  “My family,” I murmured, wishing everyone else didn’t have to hear my dissent. “Outing them is dangerous....”

  Luke shook his head. “Every member of Honor’s family falls under my protection.”

  A mate bond would have been really useful at the present moment. Lacking that avenue of communication, I had to clue Luke in the hard way, knowing full well that back talk toward a standing alpha left us open to another Alpha’s Hunt. “My family is really big, Luke. I have aunts, uncles, bucketloads of cousins.”

  Victor had turned around while Luke’s attention was on me, and now he smirked. An additional skinless slunk out of the ranks of Luke’s pack mates and joined the rebels.

  Lines were being redrawn and I was partially responsible. I didn’t know how to backpedal, though, without endangering my woelfin family.

  Luckily, Luke had everything under control.

  Because, he’d already proven himself willing to be a hard-nosed alpha if it meant protecting his loved ones. Which is what I’d become, even if we weren’t officially mated. I could hear that in Luke’s voice when he spat out the type of ultimatum he’d eschewed ever since stepping into the alpha role.

  “Every woelfin anywhere is under my protection,” Luke growled. Then he proceeded to drop a mortal threat as easily as if it was a pleasantry. “Touch a woelfin pelt and die.”

  This was exactly the sort of posturing skinless responded to. A show of pure, arrogant strength that went far beyond the reasonable...yet became reasonable when emerging from the mouth of an accepted alpha. Especially when Luke’s clenched fists promised he was ready to start right then and there by wringing his errant cousin’s neck.

  Strength radiated from Luke’s shoulders. The air froze around us. In that moment, he was 100% alpha. This was the pack leader Ruth had been begging him to become.

  And the kind of pack leader Victor wasn’t. The younger male’s head bent down. His eyes hit the floor.

  Wolves beside him responded immediately, slinking across the line in the opposite direction so they could rejoin Luke’s followers. Those who had wavered on the edges pressed in closer to the alpha at their core.

  Luke noticed, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he speared Victor with a glare that sent the other male stumbling back three paces. “Carry that message with you when you go.”

  I EXPECTED CARL AND his cronies to leave when Victor did. Instead, the young male dropped to one knee, head bowed but voice projected loudly enough to fill the room. “Alpha. I request an alliance.”

  The formal decision we’d been sidestepping for days was upon us. In the face of Luke’s rash promise to protect all woelfin, we needed allies more than ever. Still...

  “Carly, do you want this?” Luke asked.

  I expected a head-bowed mumble. Instead, the girl shook her head furiously. “I’m not Carly.”

  Her uncle’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not?”

  “No.” Her voice shook, but her words were loud enough to be heard throughout the cellar. “I won’t be named after some guy I was once betrothed to.”

  That was a denial worthy of her scarred relatives
. No wonder Ruth was the one who asked the obvious followup. “What should we call you then?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Maybe...Blade?”

  That sounded like a comic-book character. Something Carly might regret when she had a few more years on her. Still, Ruth nodded. “We’ll start with that.”

  Throughout their conversation, Carl had remained kneeling. He hadn’t leapt up and lambasted the girl formerly known as Carly. He hadn’t stormed out to join Victor either.

  Which, from a skinless perspective, meant the kid had potential. No wonder Luke crouched down to his level before rumbling out acceptance.

  “We can use allies. But my niece won’t be the glue that binds us together. And we won’t kill your brother for you either.”

  Carl didn’t dare glance up at the stronger wolf, but he did prod for reassurance. “If C—Blade isn’t our glue, then what is?”

  “You want glue?” Luke’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’d be personally indebted to someone willing to let other packs know Clan Acosta is strong and ready to safeguard our own now. Spread the word that woelfin are under my protection. Spread that news fast and spread it far.”

  His hand fell down to Carl’s shoulder, and the younger skinless leaned into his touch rather than seeming weighed down by it. “Do that,” Luke continued, “and you will be shielded also. You’re welcome to join us if you’re ever in need of a pack.”

  Chapter 40

  By the time the dust settled, it was too late to travel. So Luke ended up renting an Airbnb just barely large enough for the entire pack to sprawl out on sofas, beds, and floor.

  I thought it would feel strange to shift into fur form and curl up beside strange skinless. But these weren’t strangers. Not any longer. Instead, Blade’s chin resting on my shoulder and Ruth’s breathing in my ear lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  We woke as a unit. A growl and every one of us was standing. A rustle of fabric, the scratch of fingernails. Someone lingered outside the door.

  Luke shifted before the rest of us had time to put thought into action. He was filthy and naked...and armed with Ruth’s handgun. He peered through the peephole then barked out laughter.

  Ruth was behind him, four-legged and raised-ruffed, when Luke opened the door and started carting in parcels. A passerby whistled appreciation of the full-frontal nudity, but Luke just kept working until the coffee table was stacked two layers deep.

  “Is this what humans do for Christmas?” Blade asked, sounding younger than I’d ever heard her. And eager. Her fingers flew to the corner of the first parcel.

  “Wait.” Ruth stopped her. Sniffed with human nostrils. Then her brow furrowed as she handed the box down the row toward me. “I believe this one is for Honor.”

  For me? The label was made out to Luke with no return address.

  Still I trusted Ruth—our alpha, even if I was the only one who acknowledged that fact. I pried with my fingernails, pulling loose a shred of tape.

  “Here.” Luke didn’t take the package away from me. Instead, he handed over a knife from the kitchen.

  I slit the tape and drew back the flaps to reveal a wolf’s pelt. Mottled gray, just like mine. Like Grace’s.

  “Whoa! Is that...?” Michael asked.

  I ran my fingers through the fur, feeling no static of incipient magic. I couldn’t be certain but I thought.... “No.”

  Still, the jumble of parcels was heartening. Carl had spread the word about Luke’s pronouncement already. And werewolves were responding, not by attacking us but by sending any possible woelfin pelt as homage to Luke’s might.

  “Keep looking.” Ruth suggested. “Here.”

  One after another, Blade, Michael and I opened parcels. I couldn’t be certain, but two of the pelts felt different than the others. Perhaps not just skins peeled off bleeding animals. Perhaps shed woelfin furs, long separated from their hosts.

  There was only one way to be certain. I cocked my head up to meet Luke’s questioning gaze. Nodded. “I need to take a trip across town.”

  “HONOR.” MY SISTER PEERED out at me through a crack between door and jamb.

  I couldn’t quite meet her gaze, but I could answer: “Grace.”

  We might have stood there forever if Bastion hadn’t interjected from somewhere inside the apartment. “I made enough tea for everybody. Perhaps you should invite her in?”

  Grace paused for an endless moment, then she opened the door wider. My own trepidation, I suspected was equally evident as I walked inside.

  The apartment I entered looked homey in a way it never had when I was next door peering inside avariciously. Justice lounged in an armchair by the window, law books beside him. Three mugs steamed on the counter. Bastion pulled down a fourth even as he flicked on the stove.

  “I wanted to thank you for everything you did yesterday,” I started, eyes on the welcome mat I hovered atop. “Michael told me how hard you worked to track me, how you supplied weapons to the pack when Carly called.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. I could tell as soon as I lifted my eyes off the floor and looked at my sister.

  “Family doesn’t thank each other,” Grace answered. Her lip quivered. She was close to crying. “Here, sit.” She drew out a kitchen chair while Bastion added a mug to each of our places.

  I didn’t accept the offered perch. Couldn’t have bent my torso sufficiently to do so with what I had buttoned inside my coat.

  Instead, I scooted the mugs aside and drew out the pelts I’d hugged close to my body heat. “These might be wolfsfells. I don’t know....”

  Justice’s reaction was wordless yet powerful. High-pitched pain. As if his bare toe had been run over by a forklift.

  Still, he set his mug down carefully before crossing the room with four long strides. His Adam’s apple bobbed, then he reached out to run one careful finger through fur less tired and aged than Bastion’s had been when we finally recovered it.

  “I...” He glanced sideways at Grace, his loyalty stronger than his obvious yearning.

  Her smile was sad when she urged him forward. “Put it on. Bastion’s collar should fit you. Honor and I could use a moment alone if the two of you want to go to the park.”

  They did. I could see the shared excitement in the barely restrained tension of their shoulders. In the way identical eyes met, the way identical smiles barely managed to hide behind broad hands.

  Justice changed in the bathroom, proof that unmagical humanity wouldn’t shed so easily. But when he walked out into the living room, he was all sure-footed wolf. Strong, wild, complete.

  His twin’s eyes glittered with joy at the knowledge that, one day soon, they’d both be lupine. Running together as pack mates. This was what our family was meant to be like.

  The door closed behind them, leaving Grace and me alone in the apartment. It smelled, I realized, like dozens of human perfumes all mixed together. Air freshener and scented dish soap. Shampoo and body wash. To save himself from overload, Bastion must have kept his human self well separated from his pelt.

  Speaking of pelts, there was one left on the table. The one that matched mine in color. The one that had called to my fingers like a magnet when I pulled it out of a plastic mailing bag.

  “It’s yours, isn’t it?” I asked my sister.

  Grace swallowed then nodded. But she didn’t touch it. Instead, she used a napkin to brush the pelt off the table and into a name-brand handbag. Then she set the purse on the floor as carefully as if it was a baby...or a snake in a brittle glass cage.

  “I’ll keep it safe. Thank you.”

  I winced. Hadn’t she just said family members didn’t thank each other?

  I knew where this was going, but I couldn’t prevent the question that bubbled up out of me. “You aren’t even going to try it on?”

  Rather than answering, Grace reached out to trace the red sore on my neck, her finger not quite touching. “I have creams that will prevent scarring.”

  I jerked back without meanin
g to. “No. I earned my scars. I’ll keep them.”

  Unlike Ruth, Grace didn’t snort. She smiled. Then she waved her hand in a broad circle to encompass the half-sewn dress atop a mannequin, the rack full of fancy spices, the rest of her human apartment.

  “Just like I earned this.”

  Chapter 41

  Luke and I didn’t find time to be alone together for days after that. First there was the extended road trip during which the pack needed the confidence boost of his presence 24/7. Then there were lone wolves to be rousted out of Wolf Camp and big decisions to be made about whether (yes) and when (later) to return to the pack’s more permanent home.

  Throughout, Ruth hovered at Luke’s shoulder. I could tell they had found a moment to hash out a road map of shared leadership because Luke ceded the floor to his sister whenever possible. After a while, skinless began seeking out Ruth even when Luke was present. It began to look more and more like the pack would eventually come around to accepting a female as their alpha.

  Or at least I hoped so. Perhaps—I smiled at the thought—Luke and I should schedule an extended vacation to give Ruth more time to consolidate her newfound role as almost-pack-leader. We’d take short trips at first, then longer and longer ones. Eventually, misogynistic attitudes would fade into distant memory. The clan would unite with Ruth at the helm.

  Of course, that type of planning would require Luke and me to spend more than a minute alone together. An eventuality he seemed to be working hard to avoid.

  Because I wasn’t skinless? Because I’d failed the job of sword maiden? I squashed the errant thoughts, throwing myself into learning the names of my new pack mates instead.

  I’d moved on from memorizing names to ferreting out family relationships by the time I cruised through Wolf Camp and found Luke missing. Ruth was teaching Blade and the grannies how to handle throwing knives. Arthur had most of the males busy repairing a rotten cabin roof.

 

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