36
Half a Pack
brAND
“ L ook at your pack,” Dad murmured at my side, as the line of shifters who had formed that morning dispersed without a word.
Well, not from me. They’d had a word from Grandma, an important one: dinner. The scent of her brisket and cornbread, along with the appearance of a dozen of the pack’s best cooks bringing out the food, and what looked like an endless number of homemade pies, had everyone ready to stop for the day. Or the hour, at least. They would form the line again after we’d eaten, and continue until midnight.
They were as anxious and excited as I was to have the pack whole once more, though I knew hundreds more were still traveling here. It would take a long while.
“It’s only half the pack,” I replied, rubbing my chest. “Three thousand and forty-seven down, three thousand and twelve to go?” I glanced at him for confirmation.
I’d had an official phone call from the Council days ago, congratulating me on my ascension. Aidan McDonnell had been extremely curious as to how my father was still alive, a fact he shouldn’t have known. I’d known his pack was watching us, but hearing him refer to having eyes inside my borders—even if they were merely electronic ones—made my wolf howl for his blood.
He’d insisted on my immediate presence at the Mansion in the next few days to accept my pledge to join the Council, then to attend a Council vote on his installation as permanent Head, knowing it wouldn’t be possible. He’d insinuated that perhaps I would do as my father had, and adopt a hands-off approach to Council matters. I’d made sure he knew that would not be the case, but left his invitation hanging. I had to consolidate power before I confronted him.
Dad shrugged and settled back in the wide Adirondack-style chair, made of logs and cushioned with Grandma’s quilts. “Wouldn’t know. Sounds right, unless someone’s died, or been born. It’s odd not to feel the connections.”
I grunted in agreement. “It’s even more odd to suddenly have them, like moths fluttering in the back of my thoughts.” It was distracting, but that feeling had been all that kept me from throwing myself in a truck and driving to Alabama to be with Flor. That and the knowledge that it was only once I’d finished this process that I would have the full power of the Mountain pack behind me. And the right to take them to war.
“Moths, huh?” Dad grunted a thank you to the young shifter who’d handed him a plate piled high with food, as well as a cloth napkin wrapped around some cutlery. Another young shifter ran over with a large ceramic mug of cold water. Dad nodded his thanks, then turned back to me. “They felt like caterpillars inside my brain, not moths. Don’t worry. Once they’ve all pledged, that’ll go away.”
I scowled at the image of brain caterpillars. My brain was already so full of extra input, from the currents of energy that flowed between me and Flor, and the lesser ties to Finn, Glen, and now Luke.
The young male bringing my food had stumbled twice on his way to me, and now stared red-faced at my feet as he offered now half-filled plate, promising to bring me more. I took the plate and dismissed him with a gentle nod. But instead of eating, I pondered the sensations and thoughts that had tumbled through my mind over the past two days.
After the first few hours on the road, Flor had slept, and I’d had a short respite from her thoughts. That hadn’t worried me, since I could still sense that she was safe. Glen would keep her that way, I knew. But when she woke up and her thoughts—which had been so clear to me while she was inside my pack’s borders—grew fuzzy and faint as they kept going, my wolf began to pace. It had only been two days, but something in my soul was urging me to drop everything and run to her side.
Except dropping everything might hurt all of us more in the long run. I needed an army. I needed the full power of the Mountain pack tied to my own soul, so I could protect her and all of the honorable shifters who were vulnerable to the Council’s machinations. So I stayed.
But something was now telling me that I needed to leave, fast.
The moon chose that moment to rise over the horizon, a deep red hue tinging it. Like blood. A howl began, from within my soul. I stood abruptly. “I have to go.”
“Son?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It was all I could do not to shift. “She’s in danger. They all are.” I whirled on my heel and grabbed Dad’s arms when I almost fell over.
I wasn’t certain what Dad saw in my face, but his own was glowing from the light that must be shining from my eyes. “A plane,” he said. “You’ll have to fly.”
“You have a plane?”
“No, you do,” he told me, shouting as we ran to the house. “Dean! Get your plane ready. Now!”
It took an hour to get everything we needed packed. The plane only seated four, and we’d have to stop every eight hundred miles or so to refuel.
“I don’t like you going on your own,” Dad muttered as I packed a quick bag with weapons. Grandma already had a hamper of food ready and in the plane, and Grandmother had come in a moment before and hugged me goodbye, an unusually affectionate gesture.
“Your mother would be proud,” she’d said, with tears standing in her eyes. “She was the strength that made your father the Alpha he was, and is. Go and take care of that magical mate of yours. Save her, so she can save the rest of our packs.”
“Magical?”
I’d hugged her back, and she’d whispered in my ear, “Magical, moonblessed. There are many words for what she is. What you are. Go quickly.”
I would. The pressure to leave was growing intense, and my wolf clawed at me to run. Dad handed me a short sword. “I could go with you.”
“No. I need you here. The pack will be arriving, and they need to know what’s going on, why I’m not here to meet them. Put together a group of our best fighters. Brief them, get supplies and transport. I want them on their way to Southern by morning,” I said as we went through the front door. We jogged side by side to the long stretch Dean had chosen for a landing strip. A few shifters were still hurriedly mowing the tall grasses there, and chasing out a few startled rabbits.
Above us in the sky, something glinted in the late afternoon sun. It was too small to be a plane.
A drone. “Eastern is watching,” Dad muttered.
“From a distance, like the sneaks and cowards they are. Let them watch. We’ll give them a closer view of our wolves soon enough.” And with that, I was running to the plane, where Dean was waiting.
The flight was silent, and almost peaceful, though after our first refueling stop, that changed. A rough voice shouted in my head: GET HER OUT!
I fought to control my shift, Dean sweating next to me as he took off from the rural airstrip. “Is she okay?” he asked.
I couldn’t answer. I had no idea.
Thirty minutes later, I felt a surge of need that had me shifting, my clothes tearing. “Shit!” Dean shouted as the plane rocked. “Sorry, Alpha.” He kept his head tilted away, his neck exposed. I was in my half-shifted form, and the cockpit echoed with my growls.
I closed my eyes, fighting for control. She was hurt. Not only that, she was being hurt, again and again. Worse, Luke and Glen were being injured too fast for their shifter healing to matter. The oily power that I’d sensed connected to my flower was… absent.
Had Grigor turned against her? Against all of them? The need to kill him filled me like a flood coming down a canyon. I pushed power down the bond to Flor, more than I ever had, even when I’d reached through her to Luke in the river. It wasn’t enough.
No. I would not allow this. I took a deep breath, then let it out, and instead of pushing, I pulled. I gathered the bonds of all the shifters who’d tied themselves to me, who’d given their vows.
“Alpha, I have to fly,” Dean wheezed. I flicked a glance at him. His face was pinched, and his hands shaking on the controls. I focused, and stopped pulling at the strand that connected us, putting it to one side.
Then I turned my attention back to the other three thousand and forty-six souls who had promised to serve me, and I held them to their vows.