Winter of the Wolf (39 page)

of the men were shifters that she’d…meet…tomorrow night?

“That’s the norm, not the law. I attend Gathers here, so I can visit my mom up in Elder Vilage.”

“That’s where I met Heather, right after I’d learned I was a shifter,” Vicki said. “And I was probably as lost as you.”

“If you were a late-blooming shifter like me, why do the guys act as if I’m so unusual?”

“I came to shifterhood a different way. Seems that a dying shifter can
gift
his magic to a human. At the time, I thought it was a fucking lousy present.” Vicki took a sip of beer. “Poor Heather got recruited to explain the facts of life. Like Gathers.”

Bree snickered. “She probably did a better job than the guys.”

“Males tried to instruct you?” Frowning, Heather turned to Vicki. “You should have—”

“Hey. Not my fault. Calum shipped me off to Elder Vilage for those damned classes, leaving Zeb and Shay in the fire zone.”

“Zeb and Shay—the cahirs from Rainier?” Heather’s lips twitched, then she roared with laughter. “You poor pup.”

* * *

The wolves folowed their alpha to a smal lake deep in the mountains. Near the middle of the pack, Zeb loped beside mountains. Near the middle of the pack, Zeb loped beside his brother. The dirt was moist under his paws. The snow-crisp air from the heights brought the scent of a mountain goat. Closer was the fragrance of beaver from a nearby dam.

He’d always loved twilight, the time when night took over from the day, when Herne’s power pulsed in his veins, and the Mother’s love was as heady as her moon above.

In the meadow, surrounded by black forest, the lake was placid, with mist hovering over the surface in lazy tendrils.

The moonlight turned Gerhard’s naked body to silver as he paced back and forth near the shoreline. Slowly, the wolves lay down around him.

Zeb noted how the wolves divided into groups rather than spacing out evenly. Over on the right were the older, wiser heads—Baty and Angie, along with the three who owned the hardware store. Odd. With a pack this size, shouldn’t there be more older ones?

Near the front, the alpha female reigned over the unmated females. Oddly mentorless, a younger pup hovered on the fringes.

To the left were the young aggressive males. Zeb frowned.

Wolves didn’t have cliques, not in a wel-run pack. He glanced at Shay. From the half-flattened ears, his brawd saw the divisiveness also.

Good thing that Bree hadn’t come tonight, although Zeb missed her with an ache like a broken rib. He couldn’t missed her with an ache like a broken rib. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so fucking miserable, but damned if he’d give her weapon back so she could go get herself kiled.

“Listen up,” Gerhard snapped, silencing the conversations.

“We’re going that way.” He pointed north.

Zeb frowned. He’d visited there a couple of weeks ago.

The rugged valey with steep slopes and avalanche debris wouldn’t be an easy hunt.

“There should be deer, and we’l bring one down,” Gerhard announced. He trawsfurred and leaped forward into a fast run.

Zeb growled his disgust. The moon wasn’t even fuly risen.

The valey would be dark, the terrain difficult, especialy for old ones with less keen eyes. Before Elder Lain died, Zeb had learned how fragile elderly wolves became. A pack run was supposed to be for al the wolves, from the newest shifters to the eldest. Chalenging hunts were for young males and females.

Ignoring the compulsion to blindly folow the alpha, Zeb turned to Shay.

Shay flicked his ears forward at the older group and looked at Zeb. Zeb waved his tail in agreement.

Then Shay tilted his head at the new shifter, indicating he’d babysit the pup.

Good plan. Zeb waited for the older wolves to move out and trotted after them.

Baty and Angie ran wel, muzzles forward, pleasure in their gait. The other three also kept up wel for the first part of the run.

The rocky slopes were too much though, and the three fel farther and farther behind. Planning to risk their pride and suggest they head back, Zeb moved closer.

On the talus-covered trail, one male missed his footing. As the debris slipped out from under him, he landed badly and a bone snapped with a gut-wrenching sound. Scrambling uselessly, he teetered on the edge.

Fuck
. Zeb leaped forward and clamped his jaws on the old wolf’s ruff. Bracing his legs, he held, unable to do more.

Any movement would send them over, and the bottom was a fucking long way down.

The other two wolves blurred to human and puled them both back onto the trail.

As they moved the hurt wolf to a flat spot, tears leaked down the woman’s wrinkled face. “I knew we should stop going on these runs. I knew it.” She knelt beside her injured mate and asked the other, “Can you tel how bad it is, Quentin?”

Quentin ran his hands over the hind leg as the wolf whined in pain. “Busted it good, Walter. You clumsy idiot.” Zeb padded over. To his shock, the female turned and stroked her hand down his back. “Thank you, cahir, for stroked her hand down his back. “Thank you, cahir, for saving my mate.” She glanced over the edge and shuddered.

“He wouldn’t have survived that fal.”

Quentin’s face turned grim. “He might not survive the trip out.” He set his hand on his hurt littermate. “It’s a long way back, brawd.”

And too steep for an old wolf using only three legs. Zeb shifted to human form. “Stay wolf, Walter,” he ordered.

“You’l be easier to carry.”

“But…” Quentin started.

Zeb lifted the injured wolf onto his shoulders. “The trip out wil be easier for you two as wolves. Shift back.” The old wolves stayed close as Zeb turned back, struggling to keep his footing. A rock scraped his bare foot, and another, and he silently cursed the fucking alpha with every painful slip and slide.

* * *

Shay noticed when the older wolves started to fal behind and was grateful his brother was wiling to watch over them.

As independent a wolf as ever born, Zeb didn’t care if he was alone, or with a few wolves, or in the middle of a pack.

Shay was different. Although, over the years, he’d learned to tolerate solitude, being surrounded by packmates filed his soul in a way nothing else did. Like now, as he greedily soul in a way nothing else did. Like now, as he greedily absorbed the sounds and scents. To his right, a wolf pounced on a rodent, giving a yip of delight. Two young males quarreled in a dominance spat. Other wolves brushed against Shay as they ran. The scents of the females added delight to the evening. Shay let his mind settle and his instincts come forward.

Nonetheless, he kept the youngest female within sight and scent, running slightly behind her, and wondering where her teacher was. A mentor always stayed beside a new shifter until a certain competence was achieved. This pup was quite a ways from that.

She was flagging by the time they reached the bottom of the valey. A giant tree had falen across the narrow hunting trail, and the wolves scrambled over it. The young female jumped and jumped, trying futilely to get over it. The wolves divided around her, ignoring her, leaving her behind. With her two front paws on the trunk, she looked forlornly over the log as the pack disappeared down the trail.

A few feet behind her, Shay waited for her to notice him and was disgusted at her lack of awareness. She must have a lousy mentor.

She scented him, finaly, and spun. Her ears went back.

Her tail tucked between her legs.

He didn’t move. Had Klaus’s influence extended so deep into this pack that a female would be afraid of a packmate?

into this pack that a female would be afraid of a packmate?

He trawsfurred, pretending he didn’t scent her fear. “There are a couple tricks to use when you jump something big.

Want me to show you?”

Her ears came forward, and her tail lifted to wave slowly.

Good, she wasn’t giving up. He returned to wolf and showed her how to find dents for the front paws, then replace them with back paws for the impetus to get over. She finaly succeeded and stood on the top of the trunk, tail wagging furiously, yipping in joy.

Once more, Shay shifted to human. He grinned at her. “Do it two more times, then you’l never forget.” She obeyed, improving each time.

“Wel done. Let’s rejoin the rest.”

When she started to folow the trail, he shook his head.

“Use your ears, pup. Where’s the pack?”

Her ears pricked forward, back, then her nose pointed to the west.

“Aye. They’re circling. We’l meet up with them.” A quick trawsfur, and he led the way at an angle.

When they intercepted the pack, and he realized the Gerhard was searching for prey, a snarl of disgust escaped him. Most alphas would scope out an area before a pack hunt. And to keep hunting here? Where was the alpha’s nose? The scent of deer was old. There would be no large prey in this area, not when the foothils had greening grass, prey in this area, not when the foothils had greening grass, and new buds on the brush and trees.

With a frustrated growl, the alpha headed back, ignoring the stragglers like Baty, Angie, and a wolf with a cut paw.

Back where they’d started, Gerhard trawsfurred and braced his feet, scowling. “The noise of al you clumsy retards must have scared the game away.”

His brother, having shifted also, nodded agreement.

Scenting Zeb, Shay looked around.

“Need help over here.” Zeb’s voice came from under a sheltering tree. “Walter has a busted leg.” Gerhard and Dieter walked over to look at the panting wolf. “Bad deal, Walter,” Gerhard said. “Make sure you take it slow going back down.” The two changed back to wolves and trotted away, folowed by Thyra.

Fucking lazy assholes. Shay trawsfurred to human and strode over. “How bad?”

His brother’s face was streaked with sweat despite the cold air. “Lower hind, but he’s got arthritis and doesn’t balance worth shit on three legs.” Zeb pushed his hair back.

“I splinted it, but he looks like hel.”

Shay’s temper edged toward boiling. This was an elder of the pack, and no one cared. Angie and Baty had hurried over, but they were too old to help.

A young male joined them. “Dad, what happened?” He dropped to his knees, and Shay recognized Warren from the hardware store.

“Angie, where would the closest litter be? Back at town?” Shay asked.

She knelt beside Walter and patted his shoulder. “There’s a cabin a quarter mile away. Calum keeps first aid supplies and a litter in there.”

“Warren, go get it. We’l start down now, so just catch up.”

“Yes, cahir.” The young man trawsfurred and streaked out of the clearing.

By the God, Shay was fed up with this lack of pack cohesiveness. He walked over to the young males who were trading stories of the run. “We need help with the older wolf.

Put yourselves into pairs of about equal height and line up for the walk down. We’l take turns carrying.” One of the youths sneered. “Why the fuck should we do anything you say? You’re not the alpha.”

His littermate puled the same attitude.

Shay stepped closer and unwrapped the dominance he kept buried when in a pack.

They took a hurried step back.

He smiled and said mildly, “You wil do the fuck as I say, or I wil rip your arms off and stuff your smart mouths with them.”

Their faces paled.

“Line up over there.”

“Line up over there.”

As they hurried to where he indicated, the rest fel in.

Attitude adjustment complete.

Warren caught up them before long, and, with the efforts of Shay’s draftees, they reached the Wild Hunt cave without a problem.

Shay picked up the old guy to carry him upstairs.

“Hold up,” Walter said. His face was white and pinched with pain, but he raised his voice to be heard. “Thank you al.

I wouldn’t have made it without your help.” The young males stared at him, as if they’d not realized what they were doing. As if embarrassed to be thanked.

Shay kept his face straight and gave them a nod of approval. “You did wel. You should be proud.” As he carried Walter up the stairs, he saw the pups grin at each other and stand taler than they had before.

After settling the old man on the couch in the locked room and sending Warren to phone the healer, Shay puled on his clothes. Already dressed, Zeb silently struggled to get his socks and boots onto his gashed, bleeding feet.

They met Sandy in the hal. “I don’t know how we would have managed,” she said, reaching up to kiss their cheeks.

“Thank you so much.”

As they entered the bar, Shay saw Zeb’s face was a dark red—and he could feel the heat in his own.

“Brawd,” Zeb muttered, “I need a beer.”

“Brawd,” Zeb muttered, “I need a beer.”

“I’l buy.”

* * *

Bree giggled as Heather finished a story about her first Gather. Earlier, Vicki had shared her experience with being human, then shifter, then having two mates. They had more beer. Then Bree had talked about the Gathering. That had required another round of drinks.

“A first Gather is scary enough without adding trauma like you had,” Heather said, patting her hand. “Have you been with anyone since then?”

Bree’s face turned hot, even as she grinned. “I have.” Vicki laughed. “And you look quite proud about it too.

Knowing you, Miss Never-Back-Down, I bet you asked one of the guys to help you out.”

Heather’s eyebrows rose. “Now that was a smart move.

Who’d you pick?”

“Shay.” Bree smiled, remembering his deep smooth voice, coaxing her along bit by bit. “
Good girl. May I have a hug
now
?
Can you dare that much
?” “He was wonderful.”

“Zeb didn’t try to help too?” Vicki teased. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Zeb? And Shay?” Heather’s eyes widened. “You said you stayed at the lodge, but I didn’t realize you were you stayed at the lodge, but I didn’t realize you were
involved
with them.”

Bree nodded.

“I’ve mated with those males, but only in a Gather heat.

I’m not sure I’d dare otherwise.” Heather grinned. “By the Mother, you’re braver than you look.”