December 5th
“What’s going on?” demanded Branch, crashing into his uncle’s office swiftly followed by his hulking head enforcer, Mal.
The two of them rumbled, looking for danger, but all they saw were some herd mates looking worried.
Was his mother freaking out about the Christmas inflatables again? She nearly had a meltdown last year after three of her inflatables floated away during an incredibly windy holiday season. The Grinch, Santa, and a Snowman were probably still out there floating around now. It meant that Branch had to send all his enforcers to scour every department store in the state looking for replacements on Christmas Eve. Apparently, Christmas wasn’t Christmas without giant, inflatable monstrosities.
But it was only December 5th – surely it wasn’t time to panic just yet. She hadn’t even inflated the ugly beasts yet.
His mom had summoned him to his uncle’s office, and she was the only one who could get away with doing that, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be impatient. He had work to do and a holiday season to actively ignore.
He stared around at the gathered herd members – his mom, brother, sister, uncle and the herd historian – the expert on herd laws.
“What is it?” he demanded crisply.
This better be good. His mood was already dangerously simmering with fury thanks to a Santa on roller skates squirting him with silly string on his way into work. Christmas brought out the crazies.
Alden, the herd historian, flashed him an uneasy look. “There’s been a challenge to your leadership of the herd.”
Branch relaxed a little, and he felt his inner reindeer flex. Was that it? He would see any challenger that dared to face him. He didn’t have the biggest rack in the herd for nothing.
“Fine, I’ll fight them.”
Amid all this Christmas craziness, a chance to beat someone to a pulp would be welcome.
“No, not that kind of challenge,” said Alden looking more sheepish by the second. Not an easy thing to do for a reindeer.
Uncle Clay glared at Alden, and he hurried on in his explanation.
“The challenge is that if you’re not mated within five years of your father’s death, your herd will become someone else’s.”
“What?” Branch roared.
“How is this possible?” asked Harlan, giving Alden a dubious look.
Alden’s ears started turning red. “It’s a technicality that normally isn’t possible. It’s an ancient law that states because you inherited the alpha title – rather than challenging for it – you have to prove your virility…”
Branch raised an eyebrow and was about to come out with a suggestion when his mother – who could read him like a book – jumped in.
“Either by mating and proving your intention to father young or by actually fathering a young,” she explained.
“This is ridiculous,” growled Branch.
“I spoke to the Council of Shifters,” said his uncle, “and although your father died on December 17th, they are willing to extend the deadline.”
“Until when?” asked Branch’s sister, Ariel.
Clay gave Branch a stern look – he was angry, though angry with the council, not Branch. “You have until Christmas Eve to mate.”
“Or knock someone up,” added Harlan, unhelpfully which also earned him a ‘motherly’ look from their mother that soon had him looking at his feet.
“Then I will simply change the law.”
“You can’t do that,” spluttered Alden.
“You said yourself it's an outdated law.”
“Yes but a binding one and one that the council would have to repeal.”
Which would take months if not years, and by which time his herd would probably be non-existent, not to mention the state of their business. Alpha and CEO went hand in hand. If he lost the herd, he lost everything.
“Who is doing this to us?” snapped Branch.
His uncle pursed his lips in distaste. “Your father’s cousin. He has his own herd in Texas, though not a very successful one, at least compared to ours. Never thought old Cletus would have any idea what he was doing but he just turned up out of the blue stating he had a right to become alpha.”
“But surely if I was deemed unfit,” not virile he thought with a snort, “then the alphaship would go to my uncle or,” – heavens above – “my brother.”
Why would this cousin think he could have the herd over someone else in the herd?
Alden shook his head. “Old law again.”
“Jeez.”
He stomped over to his uncle’s well-stocked liquor cabinet and poured himself a bourbon. He wasn’t the type to drink during the day, but this damn well called for it.
“If the alpha fails to prove his virility, the whole herd is considered a failure and the nearest kin have the right to become the alpha.”
“This is absolute nonsense,” sighed Ariel.
Their mother patted her arm. “It’s archaic, darling, but all these laws were created for a reason – to protect our people and to encourage them to mate.”
Branch knew that, of course. His people always had to hide, and it was important that they reproduced, and it was important for the survival of their species that they had good alphas. Herds, packs, and prides were not democracies – there was never any voting. The alphas were absolute dictators, so laws were created to make sure that bad alphas could be wheedled out.
He had no idea what kind of alpha Cletus was, but he knew he wasn’t about to roll over and allow the male to take his herd away.
“Mal, I want a full report on Cletus.”
The large enforcer nodded. “Boss.”
He turned to his uncle and Alden. “I want you both looking into this law.”
They nodded their understanding. Branch was as straight as an arrow and wasn’t one to try and bend herd laws, but he sure as hell didn’t want to follow this one and would use any excuse to get around it.
“Perhaps it would be a good idea to consider one of the herd females,” suggested Alden, who immediately started cowering under Branch’s glower.
“Yeah, any of my friends would die to mate you,” said Ariel. “It’s gross really having to watch them lust after you.”
“Maris is probably tearing her clothes off right now at the prospect,” chuckled Harlan.
His uncle’s face darkened. “I really don’t think we should tell anyone outside this room about what’s happening.”
Branch nodded in agreement. The last thing he wanted was for his herd to panic, or for Maris to start booking venues and ordering wedding cakes.
“What he needs to do is find someone – not a herd member – and mate her,” said Harlan. “Then a couple of months down the line, just say she cheated on you and then dissolve the mating. Pay her to pretend to mate you.”
Their mother tut-tutted. “That’s dishonest.”
Harlan gave him a sly look. “Well, maybe he does want to mate Maris instead.”
Both Branch and their Uncle Clay growled. Like. Hell. No one wanted to marry their crazy stalker, they usually only did it because they were tied up in their basement and it was the only potential means of escape.
“Seriously,” insisted Harlan, “you mate a non-herd member, and she cheats, she won’t be punished, and you’d be allowed to end the mating without consequences.”
Ariel shook her head. “If you’re found out it will be much worse. Try to fool the shifter council, and you could risk severe punishment.” Her large eyes widened even more. “Severe.”
Branch had a sister who once tried to pay for some grapes a friend of hers ate in a grocery store, and a brother who literally thought laws were made to be broken. They really were the angel and devil on his shoulders.
His mother beamed at them all just a little smugly. “You’re all worrying about nothing – Branch is already dating someone, isn’t that right, darling?”
Crap. Five heads whipped in his direction. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised by this news, possibly his head enforcer and Mal was known for two things – being taciturn and unflappable. But he looked like someone had just walked right up to him and slapped him in the face with a kipper.
“Yes,” replied Branch with a straight face.
“Well, there you are then,” said his mother, apparently oblivious to the disbelief permeating the room. “Problem solved.”
Yep, problem solved. Double crap.