Run with the Moon (2 page)

“Lanaka says that the spirits bless us for continuing to keep the peace with the humans. As if we would seek to destroy such a weak species,” Varex finished with only a hint of a sneer. “Besides, they’ll almost certainly do themselves in somehow. Humans never can remain peaceful for long, and it’s been over a hundred years since the End Times. Must be a record for them.” Varex shrugged. “Then again, they may be fighting and killing each other off somewhere, just not in the vicinity of which we receive news.”

Varex tutted. “And I’ve gone off track completely. Valen, my son.” His dark brown eyes shimmered with a mix of pride and tears. “I did not believe the spirits would see fit to gift me with someone who would follow in my footsteps. I love all of my pups, I do. Still, having an alpha for a son, that is something all of us dream of. To know that you will leave here, and make a new place, build a strong pack of your own, and spread our family line out amongst this world, it brings great joy to me.”

“Thank you, Father,” Valen murmured, dipping his head down. His heart beat faster. The time of his departure was near. Valen tried to keep his fear buried deep inside. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to scent it and think him weak, even if he knew himself to be just that.

Lanaka called forth all to witness.

Goosebumps prickled Valen’s skin. He wanted to run back into the home he’d grown up in and slam the door to his room. Hide away like a child, and never come out.

He wouldn’t shame his family in such a way. Valen raised his head a little higher and paid attention.

Varex addressed the shifters.

“This ceremony we hold now, it is a celebration, not a casting out. Our great shaman, Lanaka, has watched you grow from a pup to a man. She will bless you and give you the tools you will need to survive. When you have settled, send word. Perhaps in the future, we can meet again.”

“Yes, Father.” Valen had no other words to say, and even if he’d wanted to speak different ones, he wouldn’t have. The ceremony proclaiming an alpha mature and capable was an ancient one and the words used for it very clearly stated. Valen’s part, at least. His father had more leeway, as did Lanaka at certain points.

Varex nodded once, then held out his hand. Valen did the same.

Lanaka began to chant—the power building around her was almost tangible. As she increased the speed with which she spoke, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her pupils were almost the same color as the whites of her eyes, just a smidge darker.

Even blind, she found their hands unerringly and drew a short line across their palms. She followed that with the tip of her knife, slicing their palms open. The pain was fleeting. Valen didn’t care about it. He clasped his hand to his father’s as they blended their blood in the way demanded by the old ritual.

He was binding himself to his family at the same time that he was preparing to leave them. Valen felt the hot burn and bubbling of panic in his gut. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to be on his own. It could take some alphas years to find a pack mate, much less build an entire pack. How could he stand that? To be on his own so long?

Varex released his hand. He bared his teeth, his fangs long and deadly, then stepped back.

Valen barely kept from shivering. There was a hard cast to his father’s features. It didn’t matter. Life was as it had to be. He knew that. It still hurt.

Lanaka stepped in front of Valen and unclenched his cut hand. She ran her finger through his blood then smeared a stripe of it over each cheek. Her chanting increased in speed and volume as she wet her finger with his blood again. She drew a symbol over his alpha mark, then with a suddenness he wasn’t prepared for, she pushed him away.

Valen stumbled, trying to keep his balance. Lanaka threw a leather bag at his feet. Before he could reach for it, she tossed something else at him. Valen caught it reflexively. The second he closed his hand around it, a warm, electric jolt shot through him, streaking up from his palm and fingers to his forearm, then right on up to his shoulder. It zoomed through his chest and up to his head, then all the way down to his toes.

“Talismans,” she said, her eyes rolling back into their normal position. “Do not remove it once you have put it on.”

Valen gave her a nod, unable to speak as he was just then. He slid the leather strap around his neck, the small pouch almost too hot where it rested against his chest. “Thank you, Lanaka. I hope to find a shaman as wise as you.”

Lanaka cackled at that. “You will not. There is only one of me.”

His father growled loudly and Valen knew his time was up. He snatched the bag off the ground then turned his back on the only family and home he’d ever had—and he ran.

* * * *

Valen didn’t stop running until he was clear of his former pack lands. That warning growl hadn’t been for show. Had he not left quick enough, he’d have been forced to fight his own father. There was no way he could win such a battle. Valen was younger, but in shifter years, his father was still in the prime of his life,
and
he had a lot of experience in fighting off would-be alpha challengers. Valen did not.

While he hated to leave, he’d have hated to die even more. And he’d never cast that kind of shame onto his father. He did what all alpha sons were supposed to do, and left when the time had come for him to do so.

It took him almost the whole day to get to safe ground. There wasn’t another pack close by, so he was safe for the night if he chose to stop. With the sun beginning to set, he considered it. The moon was bright enough that he would have no trouble seeing, and he decided to keep moving. As homesick as he was, it’d be in his best interest to get farther away.

Valen had an excellent sense of direction, as befitted a wolf, and he could finally take a moment to shift into his animal form. There’d been no chance of taking a risk like that when he’d still been on his father’s lands.

He set the leather knapsack down and stretched as tall as he could. His spine cracked and he moaned, tired and heartsick all the way down to his bones. Valen let the shift come over him, the pain of morphing still bright and sharp, yet bearable.

Once transformed, he nosed at the strap of the leather bag. It was easy enough to slide it on, though it would be unwieldy as he ran. Regardless, he could deal with it. At least it wouldn’t be dragging the ground between his front legs.

Valen trotted off, aware of hunger pangs cramping his belly and his dry, raspy throat. He knew where water was, and within an hour, he was standing at a clear, cool stream.

The moon reflected off the water, appearing as a bright ball of light trailed by a silver tail. Valen pawed at the stream, sending ripples out to make the moonlight dance on its surface.

He did it a few more times, mesmerized by the moving display, then bent and let the bag slide off and onto the bank before lapping at the liquid. The taste of fresh water filled him with a strange melancholy. He knew it was the same stream that became a river on his father’s lands. Valen had played in it many times with his siblings and other pack members. He closed his eyes and thought he could taste home.

There was no room in his life for such emotional shit. Valen forced himself to concentrate on nothing other than easing his thirst. Once he was sated, he sniffed around and caught the scent of his soon to be dinner. The small rabbit would hold him over until morning.

Valen tracked it down and killed it quickly. He ate then returned to the stream, intending to get the blood off his fur.

The sound of hooves striking the ground startled him. Horses were very rare, so rare that he’d only ever seen one, which was how he recognized what he was hearing.

Valen’s ears twitched as he tried to sneak up on the creature. He didn’t want to hurt it, just to look at the big beast. He inhaled the strong scent of the horse, and something else registered—a smell he couldn’t place. Valen’s instincts seemed to be in conflict—he wanted to growl out a threat and shiver in delight at the same time.

He didn’t know what in the hells was going on, except that he wanted to see the animal he’d always thought so majestic. Since he was a predator, he tried to stay upwind so as not to alarm the horse. Whatever the other unfamiliar scent came from, he couldn’t worry about it just then. He’d deal with that later if he needed to.

Valen had to get onto his belly and creep through a dense layer of thorny brush before he even spotted the horse. It was every bit as beautiful and…and
regal
as he remembered it being. Tall, and almost as black as the night, the beast had a white diamond shape on its chest and head, between its eyes.

A thick black mane flowed in the wind.

Then Valen noted the weird thing on the horse’s head. And after that, the other weird thing on the animal’s back.

A human? Here?

Valen froze as he looked at the man. He was clad in leather pants made from some kind of animal skin. His shoes were covered in the same material. Hair so blond it was almost white stood out as if highlighted by the moonlight. The strands were long, perhaps down to the middle of the human’s back. It was hard to judge with the wind whipping them about.

He was thin, much more so than Valen, who was muscular as all his kind were. The stranger’s golden skin seemed to carry part of the sun’s rays in it.

And the bastard had his bag! Valen quit ogling and came out from the brushes, growling and snarling.

The man jerked his head around to gawk at Valen.

Valen had the impression of blue eyes and fine features, a nose that was on the cute side of pert, and cheekbones so sharp they could have been used to cut with.

Then the horse took off, making a fearful sound as it kicked its back feet.

“Heeyah!” the human shouted.

It must have been the magic command that sent the horse into a faster speed. Valen tried to keep up. He was cautious of those big hooves and the horse was a gifted runner.

“I just want my bag!”

Valen realized his barking that out wasn’t going to do him any good. He sped up as much as he could, but it was all for naught. He had to pull back and hide when he saw the others.

The man wasn’t alone. Three more of them were there, on two horses.

Valen had never heard of humans being this close to his father’s pack lands. He was torn over what to do—stalk his prey, or run back as close to the border of his father’s property as he could and howl out a warning.

He saw the moonlight glint off metal, and feared the humans were armed with weapons. Valen had enough sense to know he couldn’t take them all on. He might be able to kill them. The question was, at what harm to himself? And out on his own, he had no shaman to help heal him if he were injured.

He would do his best to warn his father and former pack, then pick up the trail. Now that Valen knew what humans smelled like—much like shifters, just less strong and animalistic—he could track them even if they got off the horses and left the big creatures elsewhere.

His mind made up, Valen left the thief and his friends for now. He’d come back, and take what was his.

Chapter Two

Rivvie met him at the border of Varex’s pack lands. “Do you just want Father to kick your ass?”

Valen made certain to keep off the property as he glared at his brother. “No, Rivvie, I just want him to know that there are
humans
nearby.”

Rivvie’s eyes widened so much that Valen was surprised they didn’t pop right on out of the sockets. “Nuh-uh,” Rivvie protested, rising up on his toes and peering past Valen, as if the humans were close behind him. “Humans don’t come near us. You’re just lying to keep from having to leave.”

“I’ve already left, moron,” Valen growled. “I’m not coming back and have no hopes of doing such a thing.” Unwarranted fantasies, maybe, but Valen knew that was all they were. “There’s no reason for me to make this up. And guess what else?”

“What?” Rivvie asked sharply, bringing his gaze back to Valen’s.

Valen grinned, knowing how the next bit of information would hit Rivvie. “They’re on horses.”

“No way!” Rivvie bounced on his toes then darted past Valen. “Where? Where are they?”

Valen grabbed a handful of Rivvie’s hair and tugged.

“Hey!” Rivvie yelped.

“Uh-uh-uh. You aren’t to leave pack property without permission and you know that.” Valen only took a smidgen of glee in saying that. “I brought you this as proof.” He held out the leaf he’d snatched off the bush one of the humans had urinated on. It carried a strong scent that would not be mistaken for anything else other than what it was.

Rivvie sniffed. “Oh. My. Gods! You aren’t lying!”

“No, I am not. Now that I’ve warned you, I can follow them. One of the assholes stole my bag.” Valen fingered the pouch he still wore on the leather string around his neck. At least the talismans Lanaka had put in there hadn’t been stolen from him.

“They’re thieves?” Rivvie’s whispered question carried the proper amount of shock. Stealing was not tolerated in the shifter society. “They’re really as bad as everyone says humans are!”

It seemed that was the case. Valen certainly hadn’t given them his bag. It’d been left at the side of the stream. Even so, that hadn’t meant it didn’t belong to someone, and when the man had seen Valen, surely he’d realized—

Maybe not. He could be a fool for all I know.
Valen ignored the warmth that sizzled under his skin when he pictured the human again. “Go tell Father.” Valen shifted, ignoring his brother’s rapid talking. Anything Rivvie had to say didn’t affect Valen now. He was severed from his former pack, and he’d done what he felt was his duty.

The ground was cool beneath his paws. A breeze ruffled his fur and caused the trees and shrubs to sing in their own way. An occasional bat would dip down now and then, chasing insects, and smaller animals scurried around Valen. Something lightened inside him, some burden he couldn’t quite name.

Valen sniffed out the familiar scent of his own tracks first, the musky aroma of it mingling with the earthy odors that made his pulse race. He loved being outside in his wolf form, stalking prey, feeling all the elements in so many ways he didn’t while in his other shape.