Caged
Ghost left the cabin, leaping from the front stoop. Paws sank in the fresh snow cover when he landed, puffs of flakes kicking up behind him as he ran through the trees. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless, the mountain air was harsh, clean, and searing, and his blood felt electrified.
Kane was back in the cabin, still talking to Caius. All night long, and for most of the morning, the alphas bickered, plotted, and conjectured, driving Ghost to lose what tolerance he had for endless what-ifs and maybes. He’d given up trying to follow along. He was still not used to having conversations and talking to others, no matter the species, and his habit of getting up and leaving when he was bored was rude, or so said Cat and Glen. Having manners was another thing he wasn’t used to at all.
Being a wolfkin man was harder than he thought it would be…being a wolf was easy. Hunt, run, play, sleep, repeat. No arguments and veiled frustrations, no seething resentments and fractured trust. There was dominance to determine in packs, but such events were about willpower and strength, and wolves settled in naturally and with no resentments once the hierarchy was determined. Laws did not exist; religion did not exist. There was a type of faith, but it was less defined, with no rules attached except that all creatures must eat, and some will be eaten. Some will lead, and some will follow. Each creature to its own nature, and none to say, or even think, that one way was not the right way, or that another was wrong. Such concepts did not exist. Barring illness, animals truly did not care.
Ghost headed up the mountain, away from the cabins and park center. The scents of other wolfkin faded away and the trees thinned out the higher he climbed. *Little wolf?*
*I am well, my mate,* Ghost whispered to Kane, his alpha’s worry a slight sting upon his conscience. He had left without a word, stripping his human clothing and running for the door, shredding frustrations as he shed his human form in a rush of silver-white energy. Kane had called after him, but thankfully his mate did not follow him. He needed some time alone.
Kane sent back a wordless mental caress of affection, receding from Ghost’s higher mind, their bond still intact in the recesses of his brain. Kane was an anchor, a touchstone, and was always with him.
Ghost continued to run, his body flowing over rocks and snow, the wind cutting through his thick gray coat in random gusts. His heart thudded with his race, blood roared through his ears, the sunny sky blinding him as he reached the scraggy peak.
Ghost took in the world once his eyes adjusted. Mountains dipped and swelled in all directions, black pines blocking out great swaths on steep inclines, the valleys dark even in the daylight, and he could see the mirror bright surface of the river as it wound through Baxter. Below him was the park center, and the wolves of Red Fern who kept the park. Red Fern maintained the illusion that only human caretakers for the state park resided in Baxter. Ghost had been here before, as a child, though he had never seen Baxter like this—a wilderness, a rare, almost untouched sanctuary for his kind. Humans came here only during the summer months, and every step they took was watched.
He was no longer alone. He was surrounded by hundreds of his kind, with more to come any day now, and his humans, Glen and Cat, were down there in the valley, too. Ghost was soulbonded and mated to a fine alpha, and he knew happiness. He wasn’t alone—so why did he feel like he was?
Ghost threw himself down on a wind-cleared boulder, head on his paws, and tried his best to let it all go—worry, doubt, frustration. Such emotions clouded his thoughts. They were stronger now that he could find his human form, every day he spent as a man instead of wolf changed him and the way he thought. He was thankful, yet part of him didn’t want to change. Such a short time with his kith and kin and Ghost was coming to believe the wolfkin were closer to humans than even they believed. While Cat and Glen were kind, smart, and accepting, Ghost knew most humans were not as special as his packmates. His humans went from believing him to be a rather strange and unusual wolf to accepting him as a sentient being that could use magic with very little trouble. Ghost was thankful for this—his humans were explorers of knowledge, and spent more time amongst wolves than their own species; Ghost had a feeling that was part of their ability to accept him and his kind as easily as they had. Other humans would not be so accepting—from his memories as a child of being hunted and his family being attacked by mercenaries to the times Ghost could accompany Cat into town and his exposure to humans that way, Ghost was sure most humans would react badly were they to ever meet a wolfkin and learn their nature.
The wolfkin he’d met since his return were either the paramount example of their kind—Kane and Andromeda—or were all too human in their faults, like Claire and Roman. He had a feeling most of the wolfkin fell in the middle, and a part of him mourned the loss of his naïve opinions of his own people. He was happy to be home, but he was also grieving.
Where were the wolfkin of myth and legend, the selfless hunters and guardians who held the wellbeing of their people above all things?
The sun warmed him despite the wind, and his eyes began to drift, heavy. He curled up tighter, tucked his nose under his bushy tail, giving into the desire to sleep. He dozed.
In his dream, he was no longer on the mountain. Darkness clouded his thoughts, indistinct figures moved in the shadows, voices were familiar but the names of those who spoke were just out of reach. There was a figure huddled, misery etched in every muscle and across his shadowed face, but Ghost thought he was young. His view changed, twisted, and in the darkness a small black and red mass glimmered, as if floating in water, bobbing gently in an unseen current. He tried to get closer, to see what the mysterious thing was, but all he could hear was a beating heart and the sound of crying. His heart ached, and he wished for the mountainside with its clean, cold wind.
The dream changed, and he settled, the disturbing images receding.
He lost track of time, the sun moving in the sky, and the angle was lower when he blinked himself awake. Fingers drifted through the fur on the top of his head, down his neck into the thick ridge that covered his shoulders, digging deep, scratching. Ghost shook his head, ears flapping, and stretched out under the kind fingers that chased nascent itches down his spine and back up. He grumbled, rolling to his back, clever fingers scratching his tummy. He almost fell off the boulder, flipping himself back to his stomach to regain his balance.
A deep, throaty chuckle made him lift his head to see Kane smiling down at him. “Enjoy your nap, little wolf?”
The wind lifted Kane’s long dark hair from his shoulders; his mate wore only a thin t-shirt and dark jeans with heavy boots at the end of long, thickly muscled legs. The sun gilded Kane’s features, darkening his already golden skin tone. His mate’s beauty stirred his heart and body, waking him completely. Ghost whimpered happily, and jumped up, licking Kane across the nose. “Hey, now! Watch it!”
Kane laughed, pushing him away. Ghost jumped from the rock, yipping in excitement. He could sense a darkening on the distant horizon, change was coming, but now, in this instant, he would banish worry with joy. Kane chased him through the snow, with the wind having scoured most of it away at this height they were well matched. Ghost was fast, whipping about in the smallest of margins, nipping at Kane’s heels then running away. Kane’s reach was long, and his fingers tugged on Ghost’s tail as he ran around his mate in a mad dash. Kane lobbed snowballs at him, Ghost caught them in his teeth, smashing the clumps to bits before running again.
Kane tackled him when he dared get too close, and they tumbled head over tail into a deep drift on the leeward side of a tall boulder, cut off from the wind. Ghost shivered in happiness when Kane wrapped his long arms around his neck and shoulders, squeezing him tight to his chest.
“You are glorious, little wolf,” Kane murmured in his ear, breath making his ear twitch. Ghost heaved a great sigh, and snuggled deeper into his mate’s embrace.
He sent back a wordless burst of emotion, full of every shred of happiness and joy he could muster at how it felt to be held and adored by his wonderful alpha mate. Kane was perfect. Surely, he knew that.
“Not so perfect,” Kane chuckled, sensing his thoughts. Kane kissed the top of his head. “I wish we could stay here all day, the world at our feet, but the Clan Leaders are going to be here soon. Caius wants us back at Andromeda’s.”
Ghost sat up and Changed, his form dissolving into a small storm of silver-white energy, rearranging his body at the barest of thoughts before reforming. He sat as a man on Kane’s lap, the cold air chilling his naked skin. Kane smiled, and cuddled him closer.
“I would yell at you for Changing without clothes on if I thought the cold bothered you at all,” Kane said with a small smile, dark eyes twinkling. “But watching you do that leaves me in awe.”
Ghost tilted his head curiously at his mate, thoughts divided between the approaching arrival of the wolfkin who would determine his mate’s fate and the stray thought that the way he Changed was unusual. “Does no other shaman Change as I do? I managed it when I was five—I can’t be the only one.”
“Not everyone had the great Shaman Gray Shadow show them to their wolf-form in such a manner either, little wolf,” Kane replied, brushing the back of his fingers along Ghost’s cheek. “Per Shaman River, the First Wolves Changed as you do, but until now, that was only considered legend. But enough history—we need to get back.”
Kane stood, even with Ghost on his lap, and Ghost let himself drop away landing on all fours in the snow, Kane laughing at his instantaneous Change back to wolf.
Kane took off at an easy lope, his long legs devouring the ground at a fast clip. Ghost ran at his mate’s side, content to match the speed Kane set in his human form. His mate was a big man, though more lean than bulky, his body one long line of carved muscle and predatory grace.
Instead of heading back to the cabin they shared, Kane diverted their path toward Andromeda’s cabin, the huge wooden structure on a small plateau that overlooked the majority of the park center. It was a good distance away from the other cabins, the closest building being the stone council house. Memories haunted the mountainside, Gray Shadow a near constant in Ghost’s recollections.
Kane knocked snow from his boots before opening the front door of Andromeda’s cabin and striding inside, holding the door for Ghost. He Changed as soon as he entered, grabbing a set of sweats from the short bench next to the door. Spare clothing was left beside doorways for wolfkin to use. Nudity wasn’t an issue for Ghost, though his mate didn’t like other wolfkin seeing his bare form, so he tugged on the pants, leaving off the top. He still disliked wearing a shirt, the sensation of anything around his neck making him twitch.
A gasp just down the hall made Ghost look up, and the elastic waistband of the pants snapped across his hip bones as a small beta female blushed and looked down at the floor. She was young, a girl on the cusp of adulthood, and she snuck a glance at Kane before darting off down the hall, her giggles echoing off the walls. Ghost laughed, enjoying the ruddy hue on his mate’s cheeks.
“I warned you about making Helen fall in love with you, Kane, though I may need to extend that warning to our young shaman,” a husky voice said, and Ghost smiled at Andromeda as she joined them in the foyer. The elegant female clan leader was dressed in her customary cotton sheath that covered her shoulders and fell to her knees, this time a soft dove gray that accentuated her glacial-blue eyes and blonde hair. Golden highlights shimmered in the light from the large front windows. “Nursing a youngling through a broken heart is difficult, no matter how many times I’ve done it.”
Her smile put aside any worries he might have that Andromeda was upset, and Ghost walked alongside Kane as she gestured them into the kitchen and attached dining room. Caius was there, sitting not at the head of the table but to the left, letting the White Wolf retain that honor. Ghost sat beside Kane across from his grandfather as others came into the room. Gerald, Ghost’s uncle and Caius’ only son remaining in Black Pine territory, came in with Sophia, Kane’s First Beta and Burke, Black Pine’s Speaker.
Sophia was short and trim, leanly muscled and one of the older wolves in the room. Shoulder length black hair and dark green-brown eyes complimented her golden skin, and she moved like the predator she was. From listening to the male wolfkin of Red Fern and the assorted wolves from Black Pine, Sophia was very attractive, though Ghost was confused by the measure applied to the females that determined beauty. He saw strength and capability, and admired the female beta, though his blood was not roused by her. Many of the male wolfkin present responded to Sophia to some degree, blood heating at an appreciative level. All but Caius, Burke, and Kane sent Sophia heated glances, though no one said anything to her at all. Sophia was a dangerous creature, her gender was in no way a handicap. In fact, his Uncle Gerald watched her even now, though his eyes darted away from her face before she noticed. His uncle often stared at Sophia with an awed expression, his scent giving away his fascination.
Burke winked at Ghost when he sat down, and Ghost grinned back at the bigger alpha. Burke was Kane’s lieutenant, best friend, and served as the Speaker for Black Pine. When the day came that Kane was clan leader, Burke would be his second. Burke was built much like Kane, the two alphas alike enough to be mistaken as siblings. Burke smiled more often than Kane, and his emotions were easily discerned in his expressions and eyes. Burke was phenomenally powerful, his gift of command—what Ghost had heard Cat call telepathy—was so strong he could mentally communicate simultaneously with dozens of wolves, maintaining mind links to so many wolves that, if another alpha were to try, their mind would collapse under the strain. Burke’s ability made him Black Pine’s Speaker, a role that was rare, even among greater alphas. Only a handful of clans on the continent could boast having a wolfkin they could call a Speaker; Kane had admitted with a rueful smile that Burke was courted by other clan leaders on a regular basis at gatherings.
Gerald gave Ghost a tight, small smile, but the warmth in the dour alpha’s eyes made Ghost smile in return. The heavy cloud of depression and bitter anger than hovered over his uncle was dissipating, slowly but surely, Ghost knew it was due to Kane’s influence. Gerald had been given to Kane under his authority as a greater alpha and Black Pine’s tactical team leader, and the change in Gerald was obvious. Even as the lesser alpha scowled and grumbled, his step was lighter and he tried to talk instead of growl. The way he followed Kane’s lead, without hesitation or petulance, showed his change of allegiance quite clearly. Caius had said little to his own son, instead watching how his heir and his son interacted, a small frown furrowing his brow.
Andromeda’s children, some older than Sophia and some as young as Ghost, helped carry in food from the adjoining kitchen. Platters of meat, sandwich bread, and other assorted foods made up their midday meal, and Ghost watched happily as Kane set a roast beef sandwich on his plate before making another sandwich for himself. Kane did small things like that for him, while Ghost had learned in the last several days how to make a sandwich, it tasted better when Kane made it for him and it made his mate happy. The powerful greater alpha was tender and caring, treating Ghost like he was precious. Ghost gave Kane a sweet smile and dug into his sandwich, happy growls escaping as red juices dripped down his chin from the succulent meat.
Caius spoke softly with Andromeda, two clan leaders, one fair, the other dark, heads close together as they ate. Everyone at the table could hear them, it was apparently rude to listen in, but Ghost ate his sandwich and stared at his grandfather and the Red Fern clan leader.
Caius was very like Burke, Kane, and Gerald in appearance, that Ghost wondered at the family ties. Kane was the only child of a distant cousin of Caius, and Ghost didn’t know about Burke’s family history. Kane and Burke were former lovers, so presumably if they were related, it was distant and far enough back not to be prohibitive. Sophia was dark as well, her eyes green and brown, whereas Burke’s were a subtle chocolate brown that lightened to gold when his wilder nature grew closer to the surface.
Thinking about family ties distracted him until a sound came at the door to the hall, and a tall, young alpha slunk into the dining room. Gabriel Suarez was young, only a year or so older than Ghost, and still recovering from the trauma of being held hostage, tortured, and sexually assaulted by his captors. The slavers who purchased Gabe and his relatives were dead, and Kane and Caius had made some noise about finding out if any other wolfkin had been sold to humans in the last twenty years by Roman and Remus Acquisitions.
Ghost jumped up, and went to Gabe, enfolding the newly affirmed greater alpha in a hug, Gabe hugging him back with a tight embrace. Ghost pulled back and smiled up at Gabe, “I thought Heromindes sent you and your family back to Worcester?”
“He did, but I decided to stay. My mother and siblings are already gone, under guard. The other Clan Leaders are coming, and I wanted to be here for the Tribunal,” Gabe replied with a half-shrug, cheeks red. “You saved me, and Kane and Clan Leader Caius can teach me to use….my gift before I hurt someone.”
Ghost tilted his head, searching Gabe’s features. His friend still carried pain and fear in the depths of his eyes, in the tension around his mouth. Yet he had the courage to stay, and defy his clan leader and kinsman. “Come eat.”
Ghost tugged Gabe to the table, a chair was pulled up from a space along the wall. Gabe sat between Ghost and Andromeda as Caius gave him a long, searching glance, Gabe shifting nervously in his seat. Ghost glared at his grandfather, and nudged the plate of sandwich fixings closer to the young alpha.
Kane gave Gabe a short but welcoming nod, and put a big hand on the back of Ghost’s neck, as if placing a claim upon him. Ghost gave a mental snort of amusement. Everyone knew they were bonded, no one was going to poach, least of all Gabe. The young alpha felt safe with Ghost, and Ghost wanted him to get better. Pain hovered over Gabe, in his eyes and soul. Ghost had no idea how to help, his training as a shaman nonexistent, but he still wanted to help. Needed to help.
“Will Heromindes be joining us for lunch?” Caius asked Gabe. Gabe quickly swallowed a bite of sandwich before nervously replying.
“No, sir. He and his honor guard are eating in the mess hall.”
Red Fern wasn’t a large clan, but there were enough members that they typically ate in the park’s mess hall. There was a cafeteria setup that could hold a few hundred wolves. Andromeda’s immediate family ate in here with her in the cabin, though she made regular appearances during the week at community meals. Family packs in Red Fern either ate in their own cabins or joined the community at the mess hall.
Caius frowned at Gabe’s reply, and Ghost wondered. The tribunal would happen once the summoned Greater Clan Leaders assembled in Baxter, and that would be any day now. They were close, and Kane had said they would be here soon. Ghost wasn’t nervous, and he wasn’t afraid. He was confused and frustrated, almost annoyed, by the traditions and Laws that claimed Kane was guilty and that their bond was anathema. How could something created and blessed by the Great Mother, their Goddess, be anathema?
****
Simon entered the new facility, guards surrounding him. The lab was beneath an abandoned chemical storage facility used by the Science Department at the University of Maine Augusta, and it still stank of sulfur and ozone. A hefty donation to the university guaranteed no questions and kept the curious away.
Shadows moved in the dark as they went down a level, water dripping from exposed pipes in the ceiling. Roman’s few wolves were still around, and while they showed no sign of flipping and revealing the location of the new lab, they were also worthless nasty brutes who snapped and growled at the humans and the werewolves restrained in the silver cages. If they didn’t get too bothersome Simon was fine with them staying—he never knew when the doctors might need new specimens.
He reached the far side of the structure, where it opened to bare support beams and electrical conduits. Medical equipment and machines he had no name for cluttered the space, some still covered in clear shipping plastic wrap. His lead scientists fussed about the machinery, directing technicians to arrange it all to their satisfaction. Armed guards stood off to the side, overlooking the cages that held the living specimens. They were drugged and restrained by silver bars and chains, but Simon didn’t believe in taking chances.
“Dr. Walsh!” Simon barked out, the man in question jumped. He was as rabbitty as Harmon had been, but he was marginally more cooperative and didn’t require hand-holding when it came to the specimens.
“Mr. Remus! You’re…early,” Dr. Walsh stammered, gingerly approaching a few steps before his courage failed him. He eyed the armed guards around Simon with trepidation, but managed to talk. “What can I do for you?”
“How soon until we’re operational again?”
“Soon, sir, very soon. The incubation unit we found in Dr. Harmon’s laboratory made the trip over successfully on the battery backup, and was the first thing we got online and running. The rest will be online by this evening. I can have a progress report for you by tomorrow.”
“Where is this unit now?” Simon demanded. Dr Walsh gulped, but pointed to the corner. The unit was a tank full of a cloudy gel-like substance, and there was dark, indistinct blob the size of a football floating in the slime. The whole thing was lit up from within, highlighting the grotesque contents. He sneered, stomach twisting at the sight of the growing organs and bones. He hastily looked away, and glared at Dr Walsh. “And the data from Harmon’s lab?”
“We’ve been examining the information thoroughly, sir. I believe I have a firm grasp of his procedures and we should be caught up once the rest of the equipment is in place.”
“Good. No more delays. Begin as soon as you can.”
Without waiting for a reply, Simon turned and left, walking past the cages. Soft growls and whimpers came from the specimens, Simon chuckled, unaffected by their anger or fear. One small form darted back from the bars as he passed, a frightened gasp making him smile.
****
Caius left the cabin, his wolves and Andromeda’s at his back. The Greater Clan Leaders for Dread Claw, Birch Grove, and Red Wraith had arrived, their convoys having just cleared the park gates. They would be there in less than ten minutes. Evening had fallen, the temperatures dropping with the sun, and Caius waited ahead of the crowd. Ghost and Kane stood with Kane’s tactical team, the Black Pine wolves shoulder to shoulder in a show of support. How the other clan leaders would react to Kane not being in custody was unclear—though Kane’s reputation for being a good man and a fair alpha may be enough to temper any complaints. Roman and Claire were still locked away in the cellars, the doors guarded by greater alphas loyal to Caius.
The human doctor was under guard as well, and had spent quite some time crying and wailing through the door, alternating between demanding to be set free and begging for a chance to tell them everything he knew. The human was ill-suited to stress, the stench of fear permeated the hall outside the room he was kept in. The only interaction he had was with his guards, wolves who brought him food twice a day and took him to the restroom when needed, not once talking to the human Caius was certain was behind many atrocities. Caius was waiting for the Tribunal to convene, hopefully his attempt at courtesy would shed some favorable light on Black Pine and his Heir from the other clan leaders.
Black Pine was powerful, but on shaky ground. Roman’s betrayal, the killings and abductions, along with the remaining missing wolves, were all black marks on Caius’ leadership. Having solved the mystery as to who was responsible for the ambush at Baxter fifteen years prior was useless since Simon Remus was still free—the human was very publicly known in New England, a rich man who spent enough time on the front page of tabloids to be recognizable, he surely would be missed if Caius had him kidnapped and killed like his older brother Sebastien. Getting retribution for his slain wolves would require patience, but not having anything to show for his restraint would make him, and Black Pine, look weaker than they were—and that left them open to challenges. Whether political or physical, it didn’t matter, any move against Black Pine by another Greater Clan Leader could lead to a blood feud.
The rumble of tires over ice and gravel heralded the arrival of the clan leaders. Caius straightened his back, wiping any emotion off his face. Andromeda silently came to his side, her face just as cold, her formidable strength hidden beneath the willowy lithe grace of her slim frame. They may not be as close as they once were, but Andromeda was his most powerful ally, and they would both need each other if they were to keep Black Pine and their wolves intact once the Tribunal convened. Kane was as much a liability now as he ever was as an asset—his very gift was the source of contention.
The increasing rumble became a long line of vehicles, several black SUVs, and near the end, a long black luxury limousine. The engines shut off, ticking in the cold, the clearing in front of Andromeda’s cabin was silent for a long moment before the lead vehicle’s doors opened. As if a signal, greater alphas all stepped out of the vehicles down the convoy. They all radiated power, that aura alphas carried as a mantle that signaled their rank and strength to any wolfkin.
Caius lifted his chin, his instincts rising to the fore. This may be Andromeda’s land, but Red Fern was part of Black Pine, and having this many greater alphas in his territory that did not answer to him made his hackles rise. His heart thumped with adrenaline, and Caius bit back a growl that threatened to escape. Andromeda’s small hand settled on his shoulder, out of sight, Caius breathed in, trying to settle his more aggressive tendencies.
He was no cub. It was time to show his peers that Black Pine was stronger than ever.
****
Ghost breathed in, his mate’s scent filling his nose, settling his desire to shift. He was unaccustomed to his human form; living life as a wolf made him suited to handling tense and potentially dangerous situations differently, with fang and claw. Though chasing off a hungry brown bear that wanted to eat wolf puppies was a far different situation than the legion of greater alphas that were exiting the black vehicles.
They were built much like Kane and Caius—big, broad shoulders and chests, heavily muscled, they moved with a grace that was purely predatory. Many of them were dark, from hair to eyes and golden skin, but a few were lighter, hair blond and one a deep auburn. The golden complexion seemed to be very common, with the Red Fern wolves and himself as exceptions. Even Kane, Burke, and Gabe shared the same golden hues to their skin as these foreign wolves.
Ghost breathed in again, catching the scent on the wind of the new wolves. He summoned his Spiritsight, and blinked in surprise. These alphas all glowed to his inner vision, their soul-stars vibrant and pulsing with power. Many of them were the same shades, reddish hues that ran thick with orange and yellow, some even red and deep blues, some shades of purple. Red was a common color then for alphas; Ghost looked at Caius, and even his grandfather’s soul-star burned a deep crimson laced with a smoke gray.
Three of the greater alphas burned with an intensity that matched Caius and Kane; only Andromeda burned brighter to Ghost’s Spiritsight. He smiled at that discovery, and looked back to the three greater alphas that burned the brightest. These three came from separate vehicles, one of them from the rear of the long limo.
That alpha, presumably a clan leader, glowed with a silky rose red and silver—his star was similar in hue to the shade made by the bond shared between Ghost and Kane. He was lanky, and blond, hair the color of wheat and straight. Ghost met that alpha’s eyes across the span, and the greater alpha’s forest-green eyes latched onto his, and Ghost felt a slight mental nudge. He pushed back, not appreciating the attempted intrusion into his mind, and the greater alpha’s eyes widened briefly before he grinned, a feral flash of white teeth that Ghost took as a promise and challenge in one. Ghost curled his lip in response, and the clan leader chuckled before walking up the path towards Caius and Andromeda.
The clan leader at the head of the convoy was shorter than most of the greater alphas Ghost had seen in the last several days, but he was thick with muscle, his suit jacket fitting tightly to his broad chest. He was built more like a bear than a wolf; while the others moved with a loping stride, this alpha lumbered ahead, and Ghost found himself wondering if perhaps a bear cub had been raised by wolves in some distant past, since this wolfkin male was the least wolf-like he’d seen so far. That was until Ghost got a brief glimpse of his inner star, and it burned with an orange and red flame, like fire devouring seasoned wood. An overlay of a great hulking wolf flashed in Ghost’s inner vision, a beast garbed in dark brown fur and gray eyes that stalked prey from the shadows. The vision of the wolf left, and the human form of the clan leader returned. Bear-like as a man, this one was all wolf inside where it counted, his size would rival even Kane’s black beast.
The third clan leader was the auburn-haired male. His hair glinted with fiery highlights in the cabin’s exterior lights, his eyes flashing green and gold as he turned his head. This alpha looked straight at Ghost, unerring and deliberate—he stared back, and this alpha carried a sense of menace about him, a dangerous hint of violence that made Ghost stiffen. Kane growled beside him, but the clan leader spared Kane not a single glance—his regard was for Ghost alone, and even though Ghost felt no mental appraisal, his gaze had a heavy sense of being weighed and measured. This male’s inner star was odd—it was red, bright as berries on the vine that grew even in winter and was poisonous to every living creature in the deep wood. Tendrils of leaf green twirled through the red, and Ghost pondered the disturbing combination. Something inside told him such a blend was unusual, though he had little experience to tell him why. The clan leader looked away, and joined his peers as they greeted Caius and Andromeda.
The crowd parted as the clan leaders finished their greetings, the four greater alphas and the lone female clan leader all leading the way into the cabin. Caius sent Kane a quick glance, and while his grandfather did not use the mental communication of their kind, Ghost and Kane felt their alpha’s desire for them to not follow. Caius looked away, and led the others inside. The door shut, and Ghost could see the assembled leaders through the tall windows entering the living room, the hearth lit with a cheerful fire.
“I feel slighted,” Burke whispered loudly, bumping Kane with his shoulder. “We weren’t even introduced. Ghost got a ton of attention though. Feeling jealous, Kane?”
“Jealous? No. Protective? Yes,” Kane responded, holding Ghost to his side under his big arm. “Julian was looking especially hostile.”
“Which one was Julian?” Ghost asked, though he thought he might know.
“The redhead. Clan Leader for Birch Grove. He rules New York City, Manhattan, all New Jersey and parts of Pennsylvania and Delaware. Has a smaller number of wolves in his territory, but his clan is wealthy and has connections to human governments.”
“He carries violence in his spirit,” Ghost mused, and Kane gripped him tighter.
“I don’t think he would try and hurt you, little wolf, but stay away from him. Don’t be alone with Julian at any point. He’s killed several of his own wolves over the years, for various reasons; if he were human I’d call him a psychopath.”
“Why is he a clan leader, then?” Ghost asked, the rueful glances his packmates shared leaving him even more confused. “Why haven’t the shamans stopped him?”
“He’s the strongest in his clan, boy,” Gerald grumbled. “The strongest rule, and whether they are decent beings is irrelevant. And Birch Grove doesn’t have any shamans. If they have need of them, the shamans from neighboring clans travel into Birch Grove territory, then leave when no longer needed.”
Ghost frowned, not liking the connotations he sensed in Kane’s mind when his mate thought of the word psychopath. An animal that was sick like that would be ostracized by its own kind or killed, chased off—not allowed to lead. The humanity wolfkin eschewed had more influence than even they thought, if a madman could lead a clan. And for there to be no shamans in Birch Grove spoke of a sickness on a deeper level, one that left Ghost even more unsettled by the redheaded clan leader.
“Who are the others?” Ghost asked, and Sophia answered. The female beta stood next to Gerald, not quite touching, but closer than she usually was when it came to the lesser alpha.
“The blond is Royrick, clan leader of Red Wraith, one of the three clans directly descended from the First Wolves. He rules over all upper New York State, the northern half of Pennsylvania and up into Canada. His territory is as large as Black Pine’s, but maybe half of the same number of wolves. Royrick is also obscenely rich, and spoiled, too,” Sophia stated, glaring over her shoulder. Her expression was fierce, but there was a soft glow in her eyes that spoke of a deeper emotion. “He’s a brat, but not cruel. He’s likely to be the only one aside from Caius on the Tribunal who’ll actually listen to testimony without bias, though I’m not sure how his judgment may go.”
Burke coughed, and Kane smacked his shoulder.
“What?” Ghost asked, brows furrowed.
Sophia growled, punching Burke in the side, making the Speaker stumble back a step. Kane laughed and Burke sent Sophia an irritated snarl without any heat behind it. Sophia smiled innocently before she answered. “For a very brief interlude when I was young and foolish, I had a…relationship with Royrick. It was just after he became clan leader.”
“If you want to call a twenty-year affair brief, sure.” Burke snorted out a laugh. “You damn near mated with him. You broke up with him and went lone wolf for decades before landing in Black Pine.”
“Thankfully I came to my senses before that happened,” Sophia snapped, crossing her arms and growling under her breath. “It was several decades ago. I was not a lone wolf—I had a standing invitation from many clan leaders to join their clans, I just took my time deciding which one to choose. You weren’t even born yet, Burke, so shut it.”
Burke chuckled, Sophia narrowed her eyes at him, and he moved until he was hidden halfway behind Kane and Ghost. Gerald frowned at the cabin, then looked back to Sophia. He shuffled a bit closer to the short beta, his whole body radiating displeasure. Sophia gave Gerald a quick glance, letting him shuffle closer until he stood right at her shoulder. Sophia wrapped a small hand around Gerald’s elbow, her grip tight, and the lesser alpha relaxed, his frown falling away.
“And the last one?” Ghost asked, thinking of the stocky brute.
“Mercuriel, clan leader of Dread Claw, who rules over Vermont and New Hampshire, up over the border into Canada. Smaller territory than most, but his clan has almost as many wolves as Black Pine, far more than the other two clans. He is a brutal fighter—his wolf-form is almost as large as Kane’s, and probably heavier. Man’s built like a tank, and is one of the longest ruling clan leaders in the New World. He took control of Dread Claw the winter of the Great Exodus from the Old World. Fierce and ruthless, though he is a solid leader, respected by his people.” It was Gerald who answered this time, his brow lowered as he remembered. “I was a youngling back then, but the upheaval in leadership was severe enough to send ripples through all the other clans. Things settled down quickly though. He was brutal in assuming control from the former clan leader.”
“He reminds me of a brown bear,” Ghost murmured, and Kane chuckled.
“That he does, little wolf.”
“Will they judge us fairly?” Ghost asked the group, and the silence that answered him was clear enough in its meaning. “How could they not? Can’t they see the truth?”
“When it comes to politics, the truth is irrelevant,” Kane said calmly, rubbing Ghost’s arm. “Black Pine is vulnerable for the first time in centuries. They may be our allies, but we cannot count on them acting impartially.”
“We are threatened by greed?” Ghost growled, fed up. “We are not humans! Greed has no place in our nature. They would threaten our bond, blessed by our goddess, for a chance to topple Black Pine?”
“Most wolfkin play token service to our faith, buddy. Only the shamans hold true to the old ways, though even among the shamans the younger generations are less devout. The few older shamans remain faithful as ever, but our Goddess hasn’t moved amongst the larger population in a very long time.” Burke told him, chocolate brown eyes flashing gold for a heartbeat. “Faith is something many are lacking.”
“She is here, with us, every second,” Ghost disagreed. “Can’t you hear Her?”
“We aren’t shamans, little wolf,” Kane murmured, kissing the top of his head. “I can hear Her when She speaks to you, but it’s hard for me to hear Her on my own.”
The others looked at Kane like he’d just announced he was on fire. Sophia blinked at him, Burke made a gurgle and coughed, and Gerald appeared to be choking. Sophia recovered first, whispering, “You’ve heard Her?”
Kane nodded, then pressed his chin to the top of Ghost’s head, breath ruffling his hair. “She’s been speaking to Ghost since he came home.”
“Longer, I think,” Ghost said, recalling when his gifts started to manifest when his memories of being more than a wolf began to surface. “The wind carries a woman’s voice, sometimes clear, sometimes clouded, but She’s guided me every day. She spoke to me in a meadow of snow and ice, and gave me the way back to myself. She helped me find the courage to return to my human form.”
Kane stilled, his mate frozen. The others stared at Ghost, shifting nervously. Kane eventually thawed, and hugged Ghost to his chest, squeezing until he squeaked. Kane loosened his embrace and kissed him, deep and thorough, until his mind lost its ability to process thought and his cock wanted out to play.
Kane let him go, but kept him close. The milling crowd in front of the cabin was dissipating, the Black Pine wolves remaining behind as the Red Fern wolves returned to their homes. Ghost pressed his nose to Kane’s shirt, breathing in the scent of his mate. Kane was warmth and strength and affection, and Ghost felt an aching want in his bones, a want that demanded Kane. Ghost was riding a wave of desire when Kane and Burke both shifted, bracketing him between their bigger bodies.
Ghost tore his attention away from his mate, and looked up to see Heromindes, Clan Leader of Ashland, and his young kinsman Gabe walking from the shadows. The last Tribunal member was already here in Baxter, and Ghost had yet to speak directly to the greater alpha since he laid the charges against Kane.
Heromindes swept up the path, Gabe at his heels, the younger alpha’s head down and gaze averted. Heromindes appeared displeased, strides aggressive and quick, forcing Gabe to almost run to keep up. Ghost worried for his friend, though he was certain Heromindes wouldn’t hurt Gabe. The clan leader was Gabe’s cousin, and fiercely protective of his people. Gabe’s defiance in not returning to Worcester was surely one of the reasons why Heromindes was upset— the glare Heromindes sent towards Ghost and his group made it obvious what else angered the Ashland Clan Leader. Kane had accidentally used the Voice against Heromindes in Worcester during the raid that rescued Gabe and his family. Kane kept Heromindes from slaying the human slavers captured during the raid, and then returned the other alpha’s will to him as quickly as he stripped it. Kane tried to apologize, but Heromindes rebuffed his attempts.
Heromindes swept into the cabin. Gabe sent Ghost an anxious glance before following his kinsman through the entranceway, carefully shutting the front door with a soft click.
“Things are getting pretty heated in there, and fast,” Burke murmured, shifting so he could keep an eye on Kane and Ghost and the cabin. The Speaker tilted his head, obviously listening to the clan leaders inside the cabin. Ghost thought about trying to listen, but his attention kept drifting away.
Something…someone was coming. More than one.
Ghost took a step away from Kane, his focus set upon the gravel drive. He tilted his head, ears picking up the sound of tires. A vehicle broke through the darkness, headlights flashing across the front yard, and it parked behind the last vehicle of the clan leaders’ convoy. The silver SUV went silent as the engine died, and Ghost’s heart jumped in anticipation.
A whisper rose in the chill wind, coiling around his head and shoulders, caressing his face before it peeled away, leaving him with his heart in his throat and his hands curling to fists.
Kane and Burke were talking, unashamedly eavesdropping on the clan leaders, as were the others in their group, discussing amongst themselves what they were hearing from the Tribunal members.
Ghost took another step away, the occupants of the new SUV opening their doors, stepping out.
It was as if the heavens dripped stars to earth, each soul-star within the shamans before him glowing and pulsing with their heartbeats. Golden yellows, gentle robin’s egg blues, vibrant moss greens and even a subtle purple and silver star flashed, nearly blinding him. Ghost blinked and dropped his Spiritsight, and he saw the four shamans that exited the vehicle and waited in the drive. All four of the strange men were staring back at him, and the one in front, the driver, took a couple steps forward and stopped. Ghost took a slow, even breath, and banished his nerves.
The shaman in front was a tall, lean brunet with pale skin and warm brown eyes, and his smile was kind. Ghost smiled back, certain he knew this shaman. The wolfkin male’s hesitant smile grew into a wide grin, and he jogged forward, arms open, and Ghost had a flash of insight that brought joy to his heart.
Michael.
In his memories of Gray Shadow, there was always Michael—his grandfather’s last apprentice. Gray Shadow taught Michael for years before Ghost was born—he learnt from sitting in on Michael’s lessons. His first memories ever were listening to Gray Shadow teach Michael about his gifts, while little Luca yearned to be a shaman, too. Michael was old enough to be Luca’s father, but he’d counted the young shaman as his very first friend.
“Michael!” Ghost cried out, sprinting across the snow. Kane shouted behind him, and his mate followed him.
Ghost threw himself into Michael’s embrace, the taller shaman hugging him close and laughing. Ghost buried his nose in Michael’s hair and breathed him in, memories welling up in his mind. Countless days spent learning together, Michael patiently letting him sit in his lap, reading wolfkin histories and the Law, evenings when Michael would babysit Luca and his littermates when Marla and Josiah would go out.
“You’re alive, you’re alive!” Michael crowed, swinging him around like he had when Ghost was a cub. Ghost laughed, so happy tears ran down his cheeks, face hurting from smiling so wide. Michael put him down and hugged him so tightly Ghost squeaked as air was forced from his lungs, and Michael chuckled before easing his embrace.
“Little wolf?” Kane asked, and a big hand gripped his shoulder. Kane didn’t pull him away, but the alpha’s disquiet and wariness at his affectionate greeting came across their bond.
Michael chuckled, and gently eased back, though he still held Ghost close. Kane gave Michael a tight smile and a short nod, his hand on Ghost all but screaming his claim.
“Shaman Michael,” Kane said, words cool but polite. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Alpha Kane,” Michael replied with a grin, nodding. “It’s good to see you again as well. I wish the circumstances were better, but I’m glad to be here regardless.”
“What do you mean?” Ghost asked, tipping his head back to see Michael’s face better. Michael bit his lip, brows furrowing, and he sighed. Face clearing, Michael looked over his shoulder at his companions before turning back to Ghost and Kane.
“We were asked to attend a Tribunal by our respective clan leaders,” Michael said, meeting Kane’s regard. Knowledge lit his mate’s dark eyes as Ghost tensed in realization, and Michael nodded, confirming his fears. “Yours. We are to stand as witnesses, to attest to the validity of your bond with Luca, and to sever it if it’s been determined to be a forced union. The alphas will handle Kane’s punishment if he’s found guilty.”
Angry, Ghost opened his mouth to demand the shamans test their soulbond now to stop this foolish Tribunal, but a shout from the front of the cabin interrupted him and drew his attention. The greater alphas that made up the clan leaders’ honor guard surrounded the Black Pine wolves. Sophia looked ready to kill, Gerald was on the ground with a boot in the middle of his back holding him down, and Burke had his arms restrained by two big wolfkin males.
Kane pulled on Ghost, but Michael held him tighter and spun away, yanking Kane’s hand from Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost growled, and tried to get free, kicking. Kane roared, and leapt for Michael, but Kane disappeared under the weight of several bodies. Ghost cried out, shocked immobile, and Michael dragged him away as half a dozen greater alphas restrained Kane, forcing his mate to his knees in the snow.
“Kane!” Ghost cried, reaching out for his mate. Electricity hissed and spat around his fingers, Ghost’s anger and fear spurring his gifts. “Let him go!”
“No!” Michael restrained Ghost, and left him dumbfounded when the older shaman grabbed Ghost’s hand, and snuffed the bolts of energy curling around his fingers. Ghost gaped, beyond startled, and found himself picked up off his feet and carried away.
Ghost snarled, his wilder side rising, fury at his mate’s treatment bringing his feral nature to the fore. Michael said something, shouting, trying to keep Ghost restrained as he fought. Hands came to rest on his face and shoulders, avoiding his elongated fangs and curled claws.
“Kane!” Ghost screamed, and he lost sight of his mate as the shamans surrounded him, separating him from the chaos.