by T. S. Joyce
She gently nuzzled the side of his face and nibbled on the soft edge of his ear as she pulled herself closer. Gently, she tugged his shirt up, scraping her nails against his skin as she went. The sound of a car engine over gravel sounded and he paused, turning his head toward the door. “Dean is headed this way or I would be bending your over this counter.”
“It’s time?” she asked in a small voice.
His ears pricked at her galloping heartbeat. She was afraid, and he wished he could take her fear away. It would rip him apart to cut her.
Dean pulled up and Marissa jumped out as soon as he cut the engine. She bolted for the porch where he and Morgan stood, and threw her arms around her. “Are you ready?”
Sliding from the driver’s side, Dean pulled a small wooden box out and set it on the hood of the truck. Moving the clasp to the side, he opened the lid to reveal a silver dagger. The hilt had the intricate design of the pack emblem and the thin blade reflected the full moonlight.
The brands would identify their loyalty to their chosen pack. It didn’t happen often, but every once in a long while, a wolf would move to a different one and would have multiple brands. This would be Marissa’s second.
Grey pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the front porch. He inhaled and held the air in his chest for a three-count to relax. It would be a total dick move to show Marissa and Morgan how much it hurt before they had to get their brands.
Dean took the dagger and squared up to his side. “I would tell you to look away because it’s easier, but you need to watch to see exactly how deep to do it for the girls. Relax your arm.”
Dean expertly carved the symbol into his skin. It boiled and hissed, sending agonizing pain shooting down his arm. The finished brand bled freely but Dean put a poultice over it immediately. He expected the pain to ease with the medicine, but instead the burn stung even deeper, throbbing with his pulse. He clenched his jaw against the agony.
Dean pressed harder. “This medicine keeps the wound open but slows the bleeding. It will make a better, cleaner brand. Wade makes these. I had him make a couple more for Marissa and Morgan. It hurts like hell, but your mark will look better for it. A little extra pain for a better end result.” Dean removed the poultice from his arm. “All right, you’re done. The brand should be smaller on the girl’s arms because of their size. Remember, once it is done, you need to Change and clean their blood as Wolf. You can take blood from them any time to bind them, but it is much easier if you do it tonight to seal the pack bond.” Dean handed the dagger and box to Grey.
Dean hugged Morgan and then Marissa before he stopped in front of him. “Promise me you’ll take good care of her.”
It had to be hard for him to give Marissa to another alpha. He tried to imagine giving Lana to another pack, and the thought brought a physical ache to his chest. “I promise,” he said, letting the truth of his statement saturate the words.
The other wolf grunted and nodded before heading back to his truck. “Got to get back and start my pack’s Full Moon Hunt. See you soon.” He smiled sadly at Marissa and left.
Grey was oddly calm. He was about to carve brands into Morgan and Marissa’s flesh, but his hands were steady. Thank goodness for all of the wood carving hours he had logged. He waved when he caught Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror and watched until the truck disappeared into the woods.
Morgan was already peeling her shirt, shorts, and shoes off by the time he swung around to get started. “Woman, you don’t have to be butt-naked.”
“You bled a ton and I don’t want to ruin my favorite pajamas,” she explained. And then she grinned.
She and Marissa stood side by side with their hands clasped tightly.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Morgan nodded and turned her face away. He was quick about it, but the sizzle and crack of her flesh under the blade would stay with him forever. He applied the poultice and pressed it firmly into her arm. He kissed her head and murmured soothing words as her arm sizzled and smoked, and tears of pain streaked down her cheeks. His own brand still burned as if he were lying on a hot stove. She wasn’t nearly through it. The recurrent pit pat, pit pat of her blood hit the grass below and the brand sizzled on, showing no sign of slowing.
Instead of holding Morgan’s hand, Marissa hugged her with her free arm while Grey drew up beside her and prepared to make the first mark. Morgan stroked her hair and held her tight as Grey worked. The girl cried quietly when he put the poultice on her arm. She was tough as nails from everything she’d been through, and talked beyond her age with the maturity of experience, but she was still only nineteen. That kind of pain was agony. The second he took the poultice off her arm, he let the tingles of Change rip through him.
His new pack knelt down, arms relaxed at their sides as he cleaned first Morgan’s wound, and then Marissa’s. When he was finished, he stood back and howled long and low, rising steadily. A few howls from the neighboring property rang out, answering him. Morgan and Marissa ambled into the woods, away from the bright house lights, and began their own Changes.
The first Full Moon Hunt as a pack began now.
Chapter Twelve
The crickets were a sweet serenade as Morgan stretched every vertebra in her spine to rid herself of the last of the fuzziness that always came with a Change. Her ears twitched with the humming of her bond. It connected her to the rest of the pack. What a curious side effect. She’d run tens of times with Dean’s wolves and had to rely solely on her sight and smell to find them in the dark. She walked east and the vibration eased as she approached a small clearing.
In it, Grey sat completely still, watching her with intense golden eyes. They had only Changed together when Alexis had Turned her, and she remembered almost nothing about those horrible weeks. She cocked her head at a small whimpering sound that came from the brush. Marissa must have been recovering on the edge of the woods. A cloud shifted, and moonlight lit the small meadow. Grey approached Morgan slowly, and she stood her ground against the crackle of his power that charged the air between them. He paused and she licked under his chin, hunching her shoulders until she was under him. He rubbed against her, stopped to smell under her tail, then pressed his huge body along her other side to nuzzle her face. His power, once so overwhelming, became a warm blanket.
Grey’s size was surprising. They’d spent so little time together in their wolf skin and she’d never stood up right next to him. She was a smaller werewolf, more petite than even Marissa and Rachel. Size didn’t necessarily have to do with pecking order, but Grey’s stature seemed to defy that. He had a tiny waist over muscular hindquarters, but his chest was deep and his shoulders broad. Even his neck muscles were thick. He was as dark as the night and her white coat glowed when she stood next to him. She licked his face. I love you love you love you. She placed her paw inside of a print he’d made in the dirt. Hers was about half the size, and she huffed a wolfish laugh at an image of a Pomeranian and a Great Dane. Grey looked at her in surprise and made a croaking sound in his throat. Laughter? Could he see her silly vision too?
Marissa came out of the brush on her belly and Morgan trotted over to meet her, also low to the ground. She lowered her tail but wagged it vigorously back and forth. Marissa knew her place and didn’t have to worry about being reminded by Morgan. The younger wolf rolled over, submissive, and Morgan sniffed her all over, familiarizing herself with her scent. Marissa had a beautiful, light cream and brown coloring to her fur, her eyes light gray.
The new alpha walked slowly over. Marissa froze on her back, not daring to move as he sniffed at her. He turned, and Marissa tentatively stood. Suddenly, he spun around and lowered his big, barrel-shaped chest to the ground. His back end was up in the air and his tail wagged lazily. His tongue lolled out to the side as he panted. He turned and took off. Marissa and Morgan looked at each other and then tore after him through the brush.
Running with a pack was nothing and everything Morgan could have expected. A rush of knowledge
came with every footfall, every maneuver. A small sound could signify a complicated strategy and a flick of the ears could solidify their plans. An hour passed in seconds as she explored the new territory with them. She’d never had more fun in all her life.
She didn’t want the night to end.
Out here, all their worries disappeared. No one was after them, she didn’t have to worry about being a Silver Wolf, and Marissa was yipping with brave excitement.
Grey was relaxed.
Morgan was happy.
Out here, in Grey’s woods…in her woods…everything was perfect.
Chapter Thirteen
Morgan opened her eyes to a weight across her abdomen. The heat against her fur was what had brought her back from a good, deep sleep. Marissa slept soundly across her middle. She sat up and the cream and brown wolf stretched until each of her individual toes could be seen.
Where had Grey run off to? Surely, he wouldn’t have left his pack unless it was for something important. The hair rose on her haunches. Marissa whined and licked at the tender underside of her chin. She let off a shallow growl and trotted in the direction of the house. His scent was still fresh and the hum against her soul lessened with every step. Marissa picked her way carefully behind her. Her soft, practiced paws turned barely a leaf.
Voices drifted on the wind. One was Grey’s and one belonged to an unfamiliar man. As she moved closer, her hackles rose to the point of discomfort. Like someone petting her against the grain of her fur.
“I’ve driven all this way and I want to challenge you,” a lanky boy of maybe twenty said with raised eyebrows.
Grey was leaning against the side of the house, completely bare of clothing and utterly unconcerned. “I don’t accept your challenge because my mate has already been claimed. By me. You have no grounds to issue a formal challenge. I have not failed in my duties in any way.” He crossed his arms and glanced behind him as she came out of the woods.
The raven-haired boy jabbed a finger in her direction. “Her, I want her. She’s the silver wolf everyone has been talking about.”
“How old are you?” Grey asked, unperturbed.
“I’m twenty. Old enough to start my own pack.”
Grey snorted. “You are old enough to start your own pack, sure, but you aren’t dominant enough. You couldn’t hold one. You couldn’t keep them safe or keep them together. You weren’t born for it, kid.” His eyes were a deep pool of blue as he glanced down at her and shrugged. Wolf, having no concern at all with the pup, seemed to have retreated.
“I can learn.”
“No, you can’t.” His steely tone suggested he was losing patience with the boy. “The dominance you have in life is the dominance your wolf has when you are Changed. It doesn’t increase with age or experience. My wolf isn’t even threatened by you. How do you think you are going to keep a pack safe? Do you know how much fighting goes in to keeping Silver Wolf safe? The minute another male who is more dominant, stronger, bigger than you comes along, you will lose her. Who is your maker? Why did he Turn you so young and why is he not watching over you and explaining all of this to you now?”
“That’s none of your damned business! I’ve heard of you, Demon Wolf. If I’m not dominant, how can I even talk to you? Or is that a lie so you don’t have to fight me?”
Grey’s eyes turned a brilliant gold as he walked steadily toward the boy. The crack of power that emanated from her mate was enough to make her cower. His scars were on display for the challenger to see, like a damn fight resume etched across his body.
The boy gasped and tried to back up, but his shoulders hit the jeep he had driven. Grey grabbed him by the throat, forearm flexing. He moved the left sleeve of the boy’s shirt aside with the other hand.
“No brand. You’re a rogue?” Grey spat out. “What, you wanted to be a boss? You couldn’t handle pack life so you are going to go make your own? You will put anyone stupid enough to be led by you in danger. You are not the one for Silver Wolf. She’s made her choice and it’s me.”
The young man widened his eyes like a deer in headlights. One eye was a brilliant lupine blue and one was brown. At least his wolf had the good instincts to be terrified. Dark unwashed hair brushed his forehead, and though he was shorter than Grey, he was still tall. He was lean to the point of skinny.
“Then I challenge you for her,” he said bravely while he pointed at Marissa.
A growl ripped through Grey’s body. “She’s nineteen!”
The boy swallowed audibly, and the stink of fear touched her nose. Grey backed off in a monumental show of control.
The boy’s voice shook, but he pressed on. “She’s only a year younger than me, and it’s not fair that your pack has all females in it. I went to Summit last year. I know most packs don’t even have one female, and all you have are girls.”
Marissa whined, pacing back and forth behind Morgan.
And that was enough of all this. Stupid male werewolves. She launched herself at the boy. She would be damned if anyone was going to take Marissa away. He only had a moment to bring his arm up to shield his face before she latched on to it. Jerking and shaking his arm, she let the weight of her body add to her momentum. His scream was one part shock, and two parts pain.
“Get her off of me!”
She stilled, holding onto his arm as he stood trapped against his ride. He tried to kick her but she buried her teeth even deeper into his flesh until her teeth scraped bone. When he brought his hand toward her face, she latched down again, only giving him relief if he was perfectly still.
“I can’t get her off of you. She has a mind of her own,” Grey said, voice dripping with amusement. “You forget these females you want so badly in your pack are people, too, with their own opinions, decisions, and actions. You have become used to talking about them like they don’t have a choice in the matter. Marissa is part of my pack, and to switch to another, it has to be the wolf’s choice, male or female. Silver Wolf was a special exception to the rule because of her lineage, but not anymore.”
A long, steady growl came from Marissa’s throat behind Morgan. She was getting closer.
“I would say it doesn’t look like either one of them want to go with you.” Grey chuckled. “Can you imagine riding in your little jeep with one of them? You wouldn’t live to the end of my driveway.”
The boy whimpered as his blood stained Morgan’s face.
Grey sucked air through his front teeth. “That looks like it hurts, but if I know my mate, she’ll be going for your throat next. I suggest if you want her off, you go ahead and tell her you’re going to leave our territory and never come back.”
“I’m leaving! Let me go, and I won’t come back. I don’t want either of you anymore.”
Morgan latched down even harder until her teeth ground against the bone before she let go. A warning. She released him and backed up slowly, snarling. The boy clutched his arm and scrambled in the jeep. As he peeled out, dirt blasted backward over them. Grey stood frozen with his ear toward the woods. He listened until the boy’s jeep hit the main road and sped off.
With a deep sigh, he turned a troubled look to Morgan. Hooking his hands on his waist, he said, “The boy showing up here proves that me claiming you won’t stop all of the challengers.” His gaze drifted back to the road like he could see trouble coming. With a scowl, he ran his hands through his tousled hair in a gesture of pure agitation. “I’m going to go get cleaned up. I’ll see you inside.” He turned and walked into the cabin, leaving Morgan and Marissa privacy to make their Change.
Morgan watched him disappear into the house with anxious fluttering in her stomach. She felt cold, despite the warm breeze lifting her fur. She’d thought the challenges were done after Grey claimed her, but clearly, she’d been wrong. Between Aelred and the threat of uninformed challengers, she was still at risk. They all were.
Morgan loped into the brush to Change, then waited for Marissa to finish her transition and handed her a pile of clothes. “Are
you okay?”
The girl nodded earnestly and took a deep, steadying breath. “That stuff isn’t quite so scary with you and Grey around.”
She ruffled Marissa’s hair and banished the fear of future danger. “We wouldn’t ever let anyone take you.”
“It’s really easy to take you seriously when your face is covered in a challenger’s blood.”
Morgan swiped a hand across her cheek, and sure enough, a crimson smear covered her palm. It should probably bother her, but she couldn’t conjure any regret. God, she’d changed since she’d been Turned. She was a lot tougher now.
Morgan needed to learn to defend herself, and this was her first stand. Over her cold, lifeless body would anyone take her from home. Everything in her sang that this was far from over, that she and Grey’s fight for normalcy had only just begun, but he was worth it. She owed it to her pack to start depending on her own protective instincts.
Marissa grabbed her discarded pile of dew-soaked clothes from the lawn and headed straight for her room to get cleaned up. When Morgan climbed the stairs, the shower was on. She closed the door quietly behind her and turned to find a large box on the bed. She looked from the bathroom to the box and rushed to the bed, then tore at the wrapping. Inside was nestled a beautiful dress. Form-fitting with a lace overlay, the garment was the color of deep, red wine. The fabric was soft to the touch. She pulled it in front of her, and admired it in the mirror. Grey had picked it out especially for her.
His voice startled her. “I want to take you out somewhere special. I thought we could get dressed up.”
Grey held a towel around his waist. He had said the statement with question in his voice, so she tossed the dress on the bed and nodded as she stalked him. She jumped into his arms and squeezed him tightly as their bond hummed steadily between them. “I would love that.”
Morgan dared her first look at the new brand on her arm the second Grey set her down in front of the bathroom mirror. It still hurt so badly, it had to be infected. When she cleaned off the fogged mirror with her forearm, however, her reflection held a pleasant surprise. The cuts had closed back over, thanks to her accelerated werewolf healing, and the scabs suggested the brand would look clean and identical to the picture she and Grey had found. She turned and looked at it from all angles.