By Zena Wynn
© 2009 All rights reserved
“Shannon! Shannon!
Where the hell are you?”
The door closed with such force it rattled the
whole house. Shannon rolled her eyes and kept logging figures into her
spreadsheet. He’d find her soon enough. She was in the same spot every day.
Her brother Rory
stormed into the office. “I just spoke to MacDougal. He said you turned him
down. That’s the third one this week!”
She didn’t even
glance away from the computer screen. “If you would stop setting them up for
failure, we wouldn’t keep having this problem.”
He pounded his hand on the desk, causing the monitor
to shake. “I have to do something. If
I left it up to you, you’d never take a mate. You’re twenty-nine. Most females
your age are mated and have several cubs.”
Oh, great. Time for another one of those
discussions.
Shannon sighed,
saved her spreadsheet, and finally turned to face him. “I’m not most females my
age. If I decide to take a mate, it will be one of my own choosing. Stop
shoving men at me. All you’re doing is pissing me off.”
Rory growled in
frustration and began to pace. “Shannon, you have a responsibility to mate and
produce pups. It’s for the continuation of our species. As the alpha-fem, you
have to set an example for rest of the females, no matter how few of them there
are.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Cut the crap, Rory. You could care less about ‘the continuation of our
species.’ Don’t you mean the continuation of our family line? God, I never
thought I’d hear myself say this, but you’re starting to sound just like Dad.”
“Well, he was
right about this at least. We are the last of the McFelans. If we don’t have
pups, the line will die with us. Then who’s going to lead the pack? Do you want
that to happen, Shannon? Do you?” He planted his hands on the desk and leaned
forward aggressively, getting into her space.
God, he is laying it on thick. Shannon
relaxed back into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Rory, quit trying
to lay a guilt trip on me. It’s not going to work. If you don’t want the
McFelan name to die out, produce your own pups.” As soon as the words left her
mouth, she inwardly winced.
Her brother had
been spreading his seed around like water since he was old enough to know what
to do with it. As far as she knew, there wasn’t a female in the pack over the
age of consent he hadn’t fucked. None of it had taken root. He had to be
thinking he was the first infertile McFelan in generations. Maybe that’s why he
was becoming obsessed with her lack of a love life.
Rory grew
completely still, and his face turned red then white. Supernatural power
spiked, raising the hair on her arms. His flesh rippled, and his eyes turned
golden. Crap! His wolf was rising to
the surface.
Shannon eased away
from the computer, calling forth her wolf as she did. She didn’t let it out but
held it ready, waiting to see what he would do next. She didn’t want to fight
with Rory, but she would if his wolf attacked. She wouldn’t be dominated by
anyone, not even her beloved big brother.
Minutes passed as
he visibly struggled with his beast, trying to push it back down. Finally, he
regained control of his temper. “I don’t want to fight with you. You will take a mate. I’ve called a
gathering for tonight. Be there and for once in your life, try to remember that
you’re supposed to be a bitch, not butch.”
The door slammed
behind him as he left.
* * * * *
A big, bright, and
full yellow moon dominated the night sky. Despite making her best effort to get
there on time, Shannon was one of the last to arrive. The gathering place,
little more than a large clearing in the woods a couple of miles outside of
town, was already packed.
The minute she
joined the others waiting, her gaze connected with Rory’s. Oh shit, he’s planning something. Something she knew in her bones
she wasn’t going to like. A glance at the other members of the pack showed they
sensed it as well. They stood in groups, talking quietly, throwing uneasy
glances at the alpha.
As Rory climbed to
the raised natural platform in the center of the clearing, his red hair glowed
in the moonlight, and his power flowed outward like waves. All around him the
silence grew and swelled with expectancy.
No longer was he
her brother. The McFelan, alpha of the Sparrowhawks, stood before them.
Allowing his power to continue to rise and surround him like an aura, Rory
began to speak. “Tonight, we hunt!”
There were gasps
and murmurs all around. Shannon stood still as shock waves rippled through her
body. He’d called a hunt. Sneaking,
conniving, manipulative bastard.
He waited for the
pack settled down before continuing. “All of the eligible, unmated she-wolves
will be given a five-minute lead. Unmated males will begin hunting on my say.
Once you’ve captured and subdued your mate, bring her before the council for
formal recognition. All challenges will be settled by combat. In the case of a
draw, the female will decide. No killing.”
He waited, giving
the rules a chance to sink in. “Let the hunt begin!”
Shannon took off
running, cursing Rory with every step. Hunts were archaic, even for packs as
locked into the past as the Sparrowhawks. He said he was trying to bring the
pack forward. Damn it! What was he
thinking?
In ancient times,
once a year she-wolves of a certain age were gathered on the night of a full
moon. They were given a head start and then the unmated males of the pack were
set loose. If two or more males trapped the same female, the decision of which
male claimed her was settled by combat and most often resulted in death. Once
the male subdued his female -- and by that, they meant fucked into submission
-- the couple was brought before the council to have their mating formally
recognized.
There were only
two ways to avoid being claimed. The first was to make it to daybreak without
being caught. Sunrise ended the hunt. The second was to keep from being
subdued. Shannon hoped not to be captured but if she was, it was a bet that she
wasn’t going to be mounted. She’d fight the whole damned pack before she’d
allow a mate to be chosen for her this way.
She ran as fast as
she could with the rest of the fleeing females, then veered off in the opposite
direction. There were ten unmated females who fit the age requirements and
about thirty unmated males. That was three-to-one odds, at best. Because she
was the alpha-fem, none of the omegas -- the weakest of the wolves -- would
give chase. Unfortunately, that still left the betas. Get enough of them on her
tail, and she’d have a serious fight on her hands.
She ran uphill,
through the toughest terrain she could find, hoping to slow her pursuers. When
she’d gained a comfortable lead, she stopped and stripped, knowing she’d make
better time in her wolf form. Unfortunately, her scent would also be stronger,
but she couldn’t afford not to shift. She needed all the help she could get.
She backtracked a
bit and threw her pants in one direction, then came forward and threw her shirt
in the opposite direction, hoping it would confuse them and buy herself more
time.
Rory howled. A
chorus sounded with him, echoing through the night. The males were coming. If
she could just make it to the ridge, there were places to hide and water to
cover her scent. Damn, why hadn’t she figured out ahead of time that he would
do something like this? She’d been caught flat-footed and off guard, never good
when dealing with Rory.
When she began,
the wind had been in her favor, carrying her scent away from the pack. Now, she
was running into the wind, her scent trailing like a beacon behind her,
announcing her whereabouts to any shifter who wanted to know.
She could hear them
behind her, gaining on her. She couldn’t tell how many, but it was definitely
more than one. Crap, she wasn’t going to be able to outrun them. That meant she
had to fight.
Shannon altered
her course, already knowing the perfect place to make her stand. According to
the rules, if more than one male cornered her, they had to fight with each
other to determine who got to claim her. She couldn’t escape while they were
fighting, but it would give her time to catch her breath and gather her
strength while she studied her opponents.
She rushed into
the small clearing and turned to face her pursuers, hackles raised. At her back
was a rock-faced wall where the mountain soared above them. It was surrounded
by dense forest on three sides, forming a natural arena.
As they entered
the clearing, she wasn’t surprised to see Michael MacDougal and Caleb Jones,
Rory’s second and third. What absolutely floored her was the sight of her
brother with them. What kind of trickery
was this?
MacDougal was a big, burly bear of a man who’d
made no secret of his ambition to one day be alpha. He would have challenged
her father if it hadn’t been for Rory. MacDougal was all right, but she knew he
didn’t see her as a person, just a means to the end. Mating her would automatically
boost his position and prestige within the pack. She would be no man’s
stepladder to success.
Besides, MacDougal
was old-fashioned and dominant as hell. With her petite build and small
stature, he was sure to try to intimidate her, just like her father had her
mother. The first time he tried to forcefully bend her to his will, she’d kill
him. There was no way he would be her mate.
Caleb, she
actually liked. He was a good man and a strong wolf, not to mention extremely
attractive with his dark skin, lean muscular build, and long, carefully
maintained dreadlocks. He would have been a consideration except he didn’t move
her. The thought of mating with him left the woman in her cold. There was no
spark of attraction, no passion, nothing. She didn’t want to fight him and risk
damaging their friendship, but she would if necessary. This was her life they were messing with. She
couldn’t afford to throw away her future because her soft nature got in the
way. There was no choice. No matter which man won, she would face off with the
winner.
She sat back on
her haunches and rested. She studied them as they trod into the clearing. Rory
was the massive red wolf with a large barrel chest. In wolf form, he was the
size of a small pony. As a man, he was short, standing only five-nine, but
stocky, thick with muscle.
Michael was
equally large. His fur was a dull grayish black that reminded her of mud. She’d
seen him fight before and knew he used sheer, brute strength in combat. Caleb
was the smaller of the two suitors. His coat was the gray of a timber wolf,
complete with all the traditional markings. Of the three, he was the only one
who could pass as a regular wolf. He was also the most vicious. He never quit,
and he didn’t give an inch. A fight between Michael and Caleb should be
interesting. Maybe they’d kill each other and save her the trouble. On second
thought, that’s probably why Rory was there -- to make sure no one died.
Instead of
confronting each other as she expected, her brother and Caleb sat down on their
haunches on the side of the clearing, out of the way. Michael approached with
his head and tail high, his steps oozing confidence. The fool actually thought
she’d submit. She crouched in challenge, ears straight, and growled. Something
was wrong. This wasn’t the way things were done. Even her wolf knew and was
angry.
Her brother’s
words about acting like a bitch came back to mind. It was suddenly obvious. He
had handpicked one of these men to be her mate. These were the two he had
thrown at her most often. Tonight, he was hoping one of these men would leave
the clearing victorious.
She looked at Rory
and snarled again, low in her throat, expressing her displeasure. Michael
growled in return. She knew her refusal to simply drop and present herself for
mounting would infuriate him. He would see it as a challenge to his manhood.
They circled each other warily, watching to see what the other would do. She
waited, knowing Michael would use his size to try to overpower her.
Suddenly, he sprang.
Agile on her feet, she rolled out of the way. In the process, she caught him
with a quick nip to his sensitive underbelly, drawing first blood. Spinning
around, she crouched, already waiting when he landed and turned.
She’d surprised
him. No one, with the exception of Rory, knew how well she could fight.
MacDougal thought she’d be an easy victory. Now he was pissed. Although with
his ego, he more than likely thought she got in a lucky blow.
He came at her
again, using the same attack, confirming her low opinion of his cognitive
ability. Wanting this over, she pulled every dirty trick her brother had ever
taught her and defeated him quickly with only a few scratches to show for it.
Michael would have
continued to fight, no doubt unable to believe that a woman defeated him, but
her brother called him off. It was either stop as commanded or face the
McFelan.
As MacDougal
skulked away, Caleb entered the clearing. She felt like a wrestler being
tag-teamed by her opponents.
Caleb was closer
to her size. He was also fast and could think on his feet, which was why he was
Rory’s second. She watched Caleb closely, knowing he’d had time to sit and
study her fighting techniques. She wouldn’t catch him off guard like she had
Michael.
He stalked slowly
into the clearing, giving her time to submit. When she didn’t turn and present
herself, he growled, low and vicious. She’d hoped when he realized she wasn’t
interested that he would let it go. But for some unknown reason, he seemed to
want her just as badly as MacDougal did.
She was tired, and
Caleb was fresh. She couldn’t let him draw this thing out or her weariness
would work against her. She took the initiative and charged. The only thing she
had working for her right now was that he wasn’t trying to kill her. She wasn’t
in a fight for her life, just her virtue. Of course, being mated to a man she
didn’t want could be deemed as fighting for her life.
Caleb was ready
for her and only sheer determination got her away from him without being pinned
when his jaw locked around her throat. He was patient, toying with her, waiting
her out. He knew time was on his side. He harassed her just enough to keep her
on the move and from catching her breath. Sheer desperation gave her the
strength she needed to defeat him, that and timely interference from her
brother. Rory must have realized how determined she was not to submit and
called Caleb off.
As she stood there
with her tongue hanging out and her sides heaving, Rory approached her. By this
time she was ready to drop from pain and exhaustion as the adrenaline began to
wear off. There were deep gouges in several places where she hadn’t moved
quickly enough. Had Caleb actually been trying to kill her, no doubt she’d be
dead. She wanted to shift back and heal herself, but she refused to be naked in
front of these two, especially after tonight.
She needed to
close her eyes and rest, but that would have to wait until this entire fiasco
was over. She couldn’t afford to show any weakness, not now. She waited
uncertainly to see what would happen, for the rules as she knew them had
seemingly been thrown out the proverbial window. She felt like she was playing
a game where she was the only player who didn’t have a copy of the rule book.
She’d always hated being left in the dark.
Rory was pissed.
This was not going as planned. Shannon was too strong and stubborn for her own
good. No shifter in the pack would have her now, not after she’d defeated two
of their strongest males. She would never find a mate.
Look at her, bleeding and exhausted, but
still proud.
When he came
toward her, he did so as the McFelan. She should show him proper respect --
ears, tail, and head down -- especially in front of others. Though she knew how
important it was to him to maintain a proper image, she stood there tall and
proud, unconsciously issuing a silent challenge he couldn’t afford to ignore
now that his men knew just how strong Shannon really was.
The Sparrowhawks
weren’t ready to deal with an alpha she-wolf. Their way of thinking was too
backward. He was trying to bring them out of the dark ages, but it would take
time. Time, thanks to Shannon, he no longer had.
For the well-being
of the pack, he knew what he had to do. Rory attacked.
Though he’d caught
her by surprise, she responded instinctively, just the way he’d taught her. Had
this been a real dominance fight, he’d have shown no mercy, but this was about
teaching his baby sister a lesson -- to show her alpha the proper respect.
As they circled
each other, another plan came to his mind that was so genius in its simplicity,
he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. Shannon needed a mate, one
who was strong enough to tame her wolf, yet gentle enough to treat her with the
love and respect she deserved. His wolves had already proven themselves too
weak, but his was not the only pack in the area.
Just a few short
miles away as the crow flew was another pack full of strong, unmated males,
including Alex Wolfe, their alpha. The Ravens had twice as many unmated males as
the Sparrowhawks, including some alphas.
He needed to get
his sister to the Raven pack.
Concentrating on
Shannon once more, he attacked with a controlled savagery. He knew just where
to bite to inflict the most pain but the least amount of permanent physical
damage, and he used that knowledge ruthlessly.
Shannon didn’t have much fight left. He lashed at
her until her wolf took control, turned, and ran. With his betas at his back,
he herded her east toward the Raven pack, nipping at her heels whenever she
tried to retreat to the safety of their home.
He kept her
fleeing until she reached the Raven pack’s territory. To ensure she stayed
there, he took a chunk out of the tendon in one of her hind legs. By now, she
was bleeding profusely. He ran her until she collapsed. Then he backed off,
letting her think he’d gone away. She immediately dragged herself until she
could go no farther.
When she was down, Rory sent his betas back to the
gathering place. He let out a howl of triumph, one guaranteed to be heard,
hoping Alex Wolfe came to investigate. Then he sat and watched her from a
distance, protecting her from predators and any human seeking to do her harm.
Hearing a sound,
he backed into the shadows. He was upwind so he had no fear of his presence being
detected. He watched carefully as an unfamiliar male approached his sister.
Rory sniffed the air. The male smelled like a wolf-shifter and was moving
slowly, so as not to alarm or startle her.
Once he was sure
the shifter was there to help Shannon, he headed home. He would miss having his
baby sister around, but it was for her own good. After tonight’s events, the
council would have made her life a living hell. They were already saying she
was unnaturally strong, and they hadn’t even seen the true extent of her power.
By defeating two of the highest-ranking males in the pack, she’d done the
unforgivable. As the alpha-fem, her actions would set an undesirable precedent
with the other females, one which the council, with their outdated ways, would
not tolerate.
The Raven pack was run the way a pack should be. Their alpha was an honorable man and a strong wolf. Alex Wolfe was one of the few alphas Rory’s father had respected. If Shannon had to go to another pack, he couldn’t have picked a better alpha to entrust her to. They would be good to her, or he would truly become his father’s son and kill them all.