Brand of the Pack (12 page)

Grey’s girth was surprising. They’d spent so little time together in their wolf skin and she’d never stood right next to him. She was a smaller werewolf, more petite than even Marissa and Rachel, but still more dominant than the other two females. 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 in approval of Wolf. She placed her paw inside of a print he’d made in the dirt. Hers was about half his 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.

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 ebony 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. Grey skidded to a stop in front and jerked his head to the west. The relaxed grunt of a deer reached her ears.

Bigger prey always moved on a full moon. They could better see danger coming with the added light and didn’t have to wait until morning to find food. Good and bad for the pack. They had a chance at a meal, but it would be on the move.

Morgan stalked quietly behind the others and was rewarded with a view of a small herd of deer in the thick of the woods. A large doe and a smaller yearling fed on grass off to the side. The easiest prey. Grey growled almost inaudibly in his throat, never taking his eyes from their quarry. They needed to separate them. He disappeared into the forest and headed west while Morgan led Marissa toward the unsuspecting animals.

She jumped out of the brush at a dead run and herded the two deer forward. Marissa separated the bigger deer off and rejoined her right behind the smaller one. They followed Grey’s scent into a valley and right as she closed in on the tired animal, Grey shot out of the brush and into the side of the deer, forcing it to the ground.

Grey lifted his voice in the victory of their first successful hunt, and Morgan and Marissa joined him. The Dallas pack joined their song from a distance, fading, rejoining, and fading again.

Morgan opened her eyes to a weight across her abdomen. The heat against her fur was what had brought her back from the depths of a dreamless 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 on the cusp of manhood 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. 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. A resume etched into his flesh that told of his ample experience and victories.

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.

“A rogue?” Grey spat out. “What, you wanted to be 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 fourteen!”

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’ll get older, 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 her.

Morgan snapped. Stupid werewolves. She launched herself at the boy. She’d 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, 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. When he brought his hand toward her face, she latched down again, only giving him relief if he was perfectly still. Her teeth touched bone.

“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 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’d 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’d 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 through blood soaked teeth. 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 the Dragon 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. “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. She 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 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 and admired it in the mirror. He had picked it out especially for her.

His voice startled her. “I want to take you out somewhere special tonight. 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’d 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 arm 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. Her light purple eyes rimmed with moisture.

She was part of a pack.

Since her sister, Marianna, had died, Morgan hadn’t felt a part of anything. She had thrown her walls up in an attempt to shield her heart from enduring the pain of a loss that wide again. And then Grey came along. Her quiet, patient, strong mate who had the ability to carry a thousand pounds on his shoulders and quiet Lana’s soft cries in a breath. He had saved her a hundred times and didn’t know about any of them. He would be a great alpha with a strong pack under him someday, and he had chosen her to begin it. Wolf gave off a power that was a burden to others, but for her, he only offered affection, protection, and unconditional love. She smiled and ran her fingertips across the healing scar of the brand that announced she was part of something so much greater and more important than herself.

No matter what dangers found them, they would face them together.

“I can feel how proud you are.” His dancing eyes found hers in the mirror, and the corners of his mouth turned up in her favorite smile.

“I belong to you now,” she said.

He shook his head slightly. “Now we belong to each other.”