2 comments/  5533 views/  4 favorites

Dawn's Destiny

By: msnomer68



Prologue

The villagers were terrified of the wolf. They feared the wolf's unusual white pelt. The strangeness of such a creature in a bland, flat land of nothing but dull greens and browns was seen as a bad omen. Draught plagued their crops. Disease stole their children in the night. The wild game they depended on to survive the long winter still ahead of them had fled. The presence of the wolf on their lands was the blame. The wolf was certainly the reason the Goddess had turned her back on them and left their desperate prayers unanswered. With nowhere else to turn, the elders made an appeal to their best hunters to track the wolf and return to the village with its white pelt as a sacrifice to the goddess. But, no matter how many brave and skillful hunting parties ventured out to track the wolf. They returned empty handed. And the curse continued.

The Prophet had dreams about the wolf. He saw the wolf's icy blue stare in his nightmares. He too thought the coming of the wolf was a bad omen. He lived on the fringes of the village with those of his ilk, in exile. He was one, but not one of the villagers. He was the same as his brothers in his murky non-life of confusion and contradiction, yet different. He dreamed dreams. Saw incredible visions of the forgotten past and of the distant, unattainable future. He walked with the Goddess. Yet, gravity held his feet solidly on the ground. He was spirit and flesh and bone. Born of mother and reborn of blood. 

He was the hunter, the dreamer of dreams, the seer of things he could never hope to interpret, and he was going to save the village from the curse of the white wolf. He needed no spear, quiver of arrows, or musket to hunt the creature. He was more deadly than any weapon of human design. Goddess blessed and goddess cursed. He was more than a mere man. And yet, he still possessed a man's greed. 

The wolf plagued his dreams and every waking thought. So obsessed became the Prophet with the wolf. That he imagined himself wearing the wolf's white pelt as a coat of such grandeur the villagers would welcome him and his brothers home with grateful, open arms. He would end the plague of the white wolf's curse and be revered as the man responsible for saving his people. 

One day, he set out to destroy the wolf. The wolf was cunning and sly. Leading the Prophet to many dead ends and on trails of such peril that even one with his strength and abilities could barely follow. He tracked the wolf diligently. But, the wolf in all his wily ways was always one step ahead.

The day the Prophet caught up with the wolf was a bleak, rainy, cold day. Freezing drizzle crusted over the paw prints, stamping them deep into the muddy ground leaving him an easy trail to follow. After weeks of tracking the wolf's comings and goings between the valley and the borders of the village, nestled within to the wide meadow surrounded by steep walls of rock and dense forest. He finally had the beast. Eager for his coat of white fur, the Prophet sprang from his hiding place amongst the craggy outcroppings of shale and jagged peeks of limestone and buried his fangs deep into the wolf's neck. Drinking of the wolf till the beast lay dead in his arms. 

A vision overcame the Prophet. And he knew he'd killed no ordinary wolf. The skies opened and rain poured down on him. The Goddess wept. Billowy clouds of silver wrapped around the wolf. Her voice bellowed the thunder of her sorrow. "Why have you killed my companion?" she asked. "His soul has been set free to roam the spirit world. I cannot return it to this lifeless shell."

The Prophet fell prostrate. Trembling with fear of Kokumthena's retribution. He didn't know that the wolf was dear to her. He didn't understand that the wolf was the goddess's blessing and not the bad omen the villagers had feared. Filled with regret, he cowered on his knees at her feet. "My goddess, you have given me a great gift, and look what I have done with it. Look how I have repaid you for your blessing. My life for the wolf's, Goddess! I will take the wolf's place and become your protector, your servant, and your companion in his stead. If only you will permit me the honor."

The goddess thought about what the Prophet offered. The wolf's spirit hovered in a mist of color and light. Drifting in the winds. He was as he had been before she'd chosen a shape that pleased her and fashioned him a body. The wolf was content in the body she'd made. He walked upon the earth, so like the natural wolves her Father had created. And yet, he could never be one of them. He was alone. There was no other like him. And there never would be again. 

She was a great goddess with many powers. But, for all her abilities not even she could bring the dead back to life. Her Father was the creator. And not even he could recreate what had already been created once the spark of life departed the vessel. 

The body the wolf had inhabited was dead. Useless. And the spirit bound for the netherworld of shadows she called home. She loved her companion and did not wish to see him unhappy again. An empty eternity as nothing but a shapeless mist awaited him. She was a protector of life and spirit, the goddess of the living and the dead. And the spirit wolf was the guardian of the thin veil separating the two worlds. 

She'd gifted the wolf with a physical body in which to roam the earth. But, she could not form flesh and bone out of dust. As her father had done when he'd gifted her with the brown children she so loved. When she'd formed the wolf's body, she'd done so by altering the raw materials of living matter into a proper house for her spirit friend. 

The Prophet would make a splendid home. The gift of her blood flowed through his veins, giving him strength. Her voice spoke into the ears of her warriors from his lips. He walked with two feet. Felt deeply, loved greatly, and had a human's craving for more. For family. For home. For greatness. The wolf's mind and body had been so limited. Through him the spirit lived an animal's life. Governed by instinct and drive beyond the capability of logic and reason. But, through the Prophet, he could have the whole of the human existence. He could walk like a man. Think like a man. And love, like a man. 

She would not take the Prophet's life. But, add to it. She would not allow the spirit to drift away into an eternity of unhappiness. But, see him happier than he'd ever been. "Spirit, do you wish to share the body of this great Prophet?"

The spirit thought about her offer. "It is an ugly body, without fur to keep it warm or a great bushy tail to brag about. Look how it wobbles on two spindly legs. Look at those blunt teeth. How can it eat with such teeth? Look at that tiny nose. How can it scent prey with such a tiny nose? Look at those weak, brown eyes. How can it see in the dark of the forest with such eyes? Look at those ears so close to its head. How can it hear when danger approaches? I could never be happy in such a body."

The goddess thought about the wolf's complaints and gave them much consideration. To a wolf, the human form must appear quite limited indeed. For humans were created for one purpose and the wolf for another. "Flesh is merely a house for the spirit to dwell. The outer shell can be altered. Would you share the flesh with this man? Live in his world and allow him to live in yours?"

"I will," the spirit replied.

"Do you, Prophet agree? Will you carry the wolf in your body and yield to its form as it must yield to yours. You will share the body and the flesh. But, your spirit will be your own. When the wolf is in your body, in his cherished familiar form. Your spirit will take his place as my companion. When you are in your human form, the form you like best. The wolf will come to the spirit world as my guardian. Do you agree to this?" 

"I do," the Prophet answered.

"Very well, let it be done. My Prophet, you sacrifice much to see me smile again. I will give you a great gift. Perhaps one more valued than the gift you received from my warrior son. You are a mighty warrior, a great visionary, and my mouthpiece to the mortal world. You can share my gift. Give life. Yet, you cannot create life. I give you the ability to father true life. Through the blood, more warriors will be made. And through the spirit and the body, children will be fathered. From generation to generation, the spirit of the wolf will be passed from father to son, and from mother to daughter. Your lives and the lives of your children will be long. You and your children's, children's children will bear many fine offspring. This is both a blessing and a curse. Choose your mate wisely my beloveds, for there can only be one." 

The Prophet fell to his knees as the wolf's spirit crowded into his body and made itself a home in his soul. They merged, one body, with two separate spirits and minds, yet sharing the same flesh. Days passed as the Prophet and the wolf learned to manage the body they shared. At times, the wolf would run wild and free. And at times, the Prophet would enjoy the warmth of a fire. And so they came to a peace with one another and the gift the goddess had blessed them with. 

The Prophet consulted the wolf in all matters and a mate was chosen between them. The girl was a beautiful girl, with long silky hair dark as a raven's wing and gentle, soft brown eyes that twinkled with humor. They wed and a son the first of many born. His children grew up strong and bold and at the appropriate time, the wolf emerged from their skin. Their mate lived a long life. But, her human body could not accept the gift that would prolong it. And she crossed the Great River. The Prophet and the wolf mourned her passing. And for them, there was never another. 

The Prophet lived two lives. To the brotherhood, he lived the life of a mighty warrior and minister to his people. And to the wolf, the quiet life of a gentle husband and wise father. 

The White Wolf and Prophet agreed to tell no one about their secret. The Prophet hid the wolf down deep in his soul. Not even his brother, in all his mighty wisdom suspected the truth about his other life. 

His family flourished as did the warriors his brother gifted with the goddess's blessing. The Prophet's children married and had children of their own, and his grandchildren bore many, many more children. The Prophet was blessed beyond measure and found happiness in both lives. Living in the ways of the wolf, in the ways of man, and in the ways of a Son. And so it was the legacy of the Great White Wolf, Psaiwiwuhkernekah Ptweowa, and the time of the wolf began.







Chapter 1

The wolf was completely content, doing things that wolves do. Her paws ran over the spongy loam of the forest floor. She bolted through dense underbrush at breakneck speeds through the familiar woods the wolves called home. She marked her territory and scouted for prey, eating off the fat of the land. And all in all, it was a pretty good life, for a wolf. The problem was the woman sharing the wolf's body was as completely miserable as the wolf was content. She didn't talk to her family. She didn't eat or sleep. Most importantly, she didn't smile anymore. Ever.

Weeks had passed since the wolf had caught even the slightest trace of the man's scent. The man made the both the girl and the wolf deliriously happy. But, he was gone. And life, at least the wolf's life, had to go on. The wolf shook out her thick, shaggy black coat, ridding her fur of the cold splatters of rain sliding down her back. The morning was soggy, cool and rainy. Mud stuck between the pads of her paws and coated her forelegs. Spring had come at last in all its glory. The woods burst with new growth and life. And along with spring, came the rain. The wolf hated the rain. But, the cold gloomy wetness of everything suited the woman within her just fine. 

Hungry. The wolf's belly rumbled in complaint. The woman had taken over last night. Spending the evening pining away for her lost love. But, she'd forgotten to feed them. And the wolf would have no part of that. Crouching low, she spotted a tasty morsel, a fat rabbit. Small, easy prey, contentedly munching on fresh shoots of green grass completely unaware he'd been spotted by a hungry predator. The woman wouldn't let her hunt anything simpler to catch. No matter how hungry she was. 

Livestock and family pets were off limits, even though a juicy nanny goat or fat, lazy housecat made for easier hunting and delicious eating. Chickens were noisy and just not worth the trouble of alerting the humans to her presence. So, she hunted for lesser more difficult game. And sometimes, she went hungry.

Her muscles rippled in anticipation, focused on the kill. Releasing the springs of muscle coiled tightly into balls of energy she surged forward. A blur sped past her line of sight and the prey skittered for cover. She would have no fat, juicy rabbit in her belly. Annoyed at losing out on a very promising breakfast, the wolf bounded down the trail, scenting the man responsible for her empty belly. 

Growling and bristling her fur, her lips curled back to reveal her sharp teeth. She threatened the man that had scared off her breakfast. Trying her best to intimidate the man into abandoning his meal of a deer. The woman inside her head pounded at the borders of her mind. Battling to get her to forget the deer, the man, and the wolf inside of him. Leave well enough alone. The wolf stubbornly held her ground, growling and flashing her teeth, completely ignoring the woman. Maybe, if the woman hadn't been so intent on starving the two of them. She might have listened. But, her empty stomach and the temptation of an even easier meal than rabbit overrode any empathy she had for her human's much more fragile emotions. 

The man, sweet smelling, earthy, and woodsy, did not balk and did not turn his attention from the subdued buck at his feet. Lunging bravely forward, she nipped at a tender piece of exposed skin at his waist. The woman reeled in horror, pounding even harder at her awareness to get her to stop. The man did not acknowledge her presence or the sting of her sharp incisors. But, the wolf inside of him did. Magic ancient as the universe surged around her. And the wolf trapped in the man's human form awakened.

Drew sealed the puncture wounds in the buck's earthy scented, tawny flesh and looked over his shoulder at the black wolf. She was such a fierce little thing. Her fur bristling and lips curled in a threatening snarl. His side smarted from where she'd nipped him with her sharp teeth. But, the wounds had already healed, thanks to his preternatural gift. 

Over the past several weeks, he'd learned a lot about wolves. Their social structures and behaviors, as well as their customs were more complex than he'd ever imagined. She didn't hurt him. Hadn't meant to. She was only trying to scare him off with her threatening stance. 

Glancing at the wolf over his shoulder he noticed her black fur coated with mud and rain dripping from the tips of her matted pelt. Snarling and flashing those long canines of hers, gave her a feral appearance. He wondered if Tala was in there somewhere or if he were merely looking at a very large wolf left too long to her own devices. It certainly was Tala's wolf. But, of Tala, he caught only the slightest glimpse of her in the wolf's golden eyes. His wolf reacted to the presence of the she wolf. Roaring in his head to do what his nature dictated he do. 

His wolf saw Tala's wolf as his mate. And Drew scrabbled to keep him trapped in the skin they shared. The woods were filled with predators. Bipedal and four legged. And even now, Drew could smell the musky essence of wolf thick in the air. And sense the pair of eyes focused on his back, quietly watching from a distance. The presence of an Alpha male, coolly watched his every move. Carefully, calculating how he could manipulate any sign of weakness to his advantage rankled Drew's wolf. There was only room for one true Alpha in the pack. And it was to Drew's wolf the title belonged. Drew might not be a wolf, per se. He might prefer his human skin and vampire world to that of the pack. Hell, he'd barely begun to scratch the surface of the strange world he'd inherited from his brother. But, he was wolf enough to defend what he considered his. 

As much as Drew balked at his wolf's possessiveness, he didn't disagree with his wolf on several key points. The pack was his to defend. Tala was his to defend. These lands and every living, breathing thing in their borders and beyond, the Sons, and the humans, were his ultimate responsibility to defend. His Alpha kingdom knew no boundaries. The vow he'd uttered with trembling lips and his dying human breath two centuries ago made it so. 

Engaging her golden hued eyes Drew called on his wolf's alpha presence to calm the snarling she wolf. He hadn't heard from Tala since that fateful morning weeks ago on the bluffs. But, he hadn't exactly sought her out either. That morning, he had made his demands and she had made hers. He would not live a lie. And neither would she. He'd asked her to tell her father the truth about them. And she'd thrown his request back in his face. Asking him how he could demand anything of her, any truth from her, when he could not admit the truth about himself. She claimed he knew nothing of her world and even less about himself. And until he could embrace his other nature, they had nothing more to talk about. 

They'd parted company badly. He'd left her standing alone on the bluffs. Running not from her, but the truth in her words. In denying his nature, he was denying everything she lived and breathed for. Tala's priorities were simple, her father, her pack, and her heritage. And in denying the gift his brother had passed onto him. He was not only risking his own life, or hers, but the lives of the entire pack. In denying who and what he was, he denied her of the very things she needed the most. He'd committed an insult no apology could begin to cover. He could not embrace his wolf. Would not. And the wolf was an elemental part of Tala's being. Interwoven into the very fabric of her soul from the time of her birth. 

Drew was trying to understand the complexities of his triple nature. So much of him was human. Even more of him was a vampire. And perhaps, the biggest part, the part he'd rather deny existed at all, was the spirit wolf inside of him. When Tala had told him he was more. That he was something not even his wildest dreams could comprehend. She wasn't kidding. Battling a two-sided nature was bad enough. The beast was always within him, hungry, desperate to consume. The man he'd grown up to become tamed the worst of his baser urges-to a degree. He still had his struggles though. And now, with a third being, one of spirit and the soul of a wolf, he was terrified of what he could become. Something less than human, less than a vampire, something less than the man he always thought he was. That nature might win over the other two and he could lose everything he'd worked so hard to gain. 

Tala was right when she told him he knew nothing of her world. But, for her, he was trying. His brother had managed a tri-nature for centuries with such grace Drew hadn't known the man he thought his brother was had lived in any other world but the one they'd shared. Pissed off didn't begin to define his feelings toward his brother's secret. But, it was wrong to think ill of the dead. And he constantly had to police his thoughts to keep them from running amok in his head. 

His brother was spirit, no longer flesh and blood. And spirits saw what the living did not. They understood what the living had no comprehension of. And they often, interceded on the behalf of those they'd left behind. One day he'd have to face his brother. When his turn came at the shores of the Great River and he'd rather do it with a clear conscience. 


Dawn's Destiny



Drew understood why his brother had kept the burden of the secret he carried from him and from all of the brothers. To regain what had been sacrificed in service to the goddess and to her noble cause. What Son, no matter how well intended the motive, could resist the temptation? The wolf spirit within him gave him abilities no vampire should have. He could stare into the sun without pain. Consume any food of his choosing. The woods were alive in sight, smell, and sound in ways not even his amplified vampire senses could have detected. He was one with the earth and with nature. He walked with the spirit world. And he, as Tala had explained, could not only give life. But, create it. 

Out of all the things a Son left behind to join the brotherhood, for many that was the only regret they had. They shouldered the burden in their own way. Hid it well from one another. But, Drew could sense it amongst their thoughts. It was a loss only a man who had lost so much could understand. 

He'd fathered children in his human life. So many brothers had not. And in ways, it was better that they hadn't. Standing to the side watching your children grow strong only to wither with age and die. Being forced to do nothing while they succumbed to time was a far worse burden than not having children at all. 

Each and every brother wondered what kind of father he might have been. Every daughter, what it might have felt like to carry a child in her womb, birth new life, and hold a baby in her arms. Very few had born human children before joining the brotherhood. Will was the only one. Except for the original Sons, of which there were less than a handful left in existence. And even Will admitted, if he'd known at the time he was a father, he would have chosen a different path, a human path for his life. 

Thanks to his wolf gift, Drew could become a father again. The magic flowed through the pack's veins that could transform a vampire into something more. And many vampires would kill to for the gift of the wolf. Did he trust his brothers? Yes. Would he withhold the secret from them? No. Perhaps, his brother was wiser in that he had hidden the secret. But, Drew, having been the victim of such a secret, could not and would not lie. The spirit wolf and his legacy had been gifted to him on his brother's dying breath. And it, the possibilities and the changes that came along with it, scared the shit out of him. 

Drew held the buck in thrall. It was too easy a kill for a wolf with the abilities Tala's possessed. But, he sensed her hunger. Her empty belly growled and she licked her chops as she shifted her weight from paw to paw waiting for an invitation. The Alpha always ate first. It was the social structure of the pack. And he had already drunk his fill. She was simply holding back, waiting her turn at the prey. He'd tried on his wolf's pelt. The thrill of it was dizzying. His wolf wanted out to play, to eat. But, he could not stomach the thought of actually eating. 

Chewing and swallowing, renting flesh from bone with sharp teeth and soaking his muzzle with the blood of the prey was not in his nature. Well, it was. After all he was a wolf. But, he was still too human, too much a vampire, to give into the instinct. He was a hunter. Had been one all of his very long life. And yet the thought of killing the buck sent bile rising to his throat. The animal did not deserve to suffer. And Tala's wolf, as efficient of a killer as she was, would inadvertently cause the deer pain. 

Drew might deny many things about his nature. But, he'd never deny his instinct to provide for his female. He withdrew his dagger and sliced the buck's throat, draining the life out of it quickly, so that she could eat.

The man eased back away from the deer in invitation. 'Drew' the woman whispered desperately into her mind, supplying her with his name. The wolf recognized his wolf as Alpha, the Alpha of all Alphas, the Psaiwiwuhkernekah Ptweowa, the Great White Wolf. She could care less about names. Names meant nothing to a wolf. There was only nature, only pack, only the wolf trapped inside of the soft wrapper of the man's human skin. She lifted her nose into the air snuffling through the scents in the air. Her black nostrils flared at the scent of fresh kill and her belly rumbled with the promise of a good meal. 

Drew didn't call Tala out. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see her. Especially, naked and dazed from the shift from wolf to human. Besides, the wolf was a much better choice in companions. Tala might not be overly thrilled at seeing him again either. They'd kept their distance from one another. He tracked her wolf and her wolf tracked him in a very careful dance of avoidance. And had since that morning on the bluffs. Any dealings he had with her father were done at the compound, under his roof and not the pack's. 

The more Tala and he avoided each other, the better it was for the both of them. At least her wolf though was true to her nature. Something Tala and he could, obviously given the amount of time that had passed since their last contact, never completely be. "Come," he said softly in his native tongue. The ancient language spoke to the soul of the wolf in a way that modern English never could. Drew motioned her forward to allow her space to eat.

Eagerly the wolf crept forward and sank her teeth into the buck's soft, tender belly. Layers of fat, muscle, and sinew gave way to her powerful jaws. Once she was certain that the female sharing her skin wouldn't starve them. She would let her take over the body they shared. The woman shivered in disgust as she ate and ate to the point of gluttony. But the wolf didn't care. It was too important to keep them fed. In their world a weak wolf was a dead wolf. 

Licking her muzzle free of the bloody globules of fat and other things, the wolf yipped at the man and plopped down beside him on her haunches. Nudging him with her paw and tilting her head, hoping for a scratch behind the ears. 

Drew laughed and ran his fingers through the wolf's soft, black fur. The action reminded him of happier times. Times when his fingers caressed Tala's soft skin and ran through the layers of her sleek, ebony hair. He sighed and withdrew his hand. "Come back to me, Tala. Soon," he whispered. Intelligence and understanding reflected in the wolf's amber eyes. The wolf's pink tongue slicked over his cheek, licking at the saltiness of his skin. He chuckled to himself. Tala would be mortified if she realized what her wolf, without words, had confessed in that simple gesture. She missed him too.

The smell of death wafting off the deer's carcass, the decay and blood, sent his wolf into a frenzy. Magic tingled over his skin. The shift was coming. And he would not allow the wolf watching from a safe distance to see his reluctance to give in to it as a weakness. He rose to his feet, stopping to scratch Tala's wolf behind the ears once more before he turned on his heel to leave her to the choicest pieces of meat. 

Dawn hovered on the horizon. And the saturated world bathed in rain and coated in mud slowed to a heartbeat as the sun pierced the dense gray clouds overhead. Later on today, the rain would stop and the earth would soak up the puddles. By nightfall, the carcass would be dealt with in the efficient way of the wolf. And there'd hardly be a scrap of fur or bone left in its place. Wolves stalked the woods, lured closer by the lingering scent of fresh kill. They were wary of him. Of the wolf he would not fully admit he was. Drew melted into the woods. Leaving the wolves to the carcass and Tala to her nature as he desperately continued to deny his.

He gave the watcher wolf, as he called him, a wide berth. Choosing the rocky slopes of the bluffs over the easier trail that led back to the compound. Easier was better. But, it wasn't best. For now though, it was all he had. And leaving Tala in her wolf's keeping was far easier than confronting the woman and all the possibilities of what could have and might still be, if he, if they, chose the harder road instead of the easy path.









 Chapter 2

Tala shivered and rolled over onto her back, groaning and rubbing her bloated stomach as she cursed her wolf for overindulging. Her wolf knew no restraint when it came to food. Tala didn't know how long she'd been in her wolf form. But, it had obviously been a while. Her body ached and her stomach reeled. Her mouth tasted of fresh prey and something sweeter, more decadent. The taste on her tongue reminded her of Drew and the sweetness of his kiss. And she'd rather not think about that.

She pushed her body up off the muddy ground and took stock of where her wolf had decided to leave her. A perfect blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon. The world was awake and bustling with the business of the day. And a fat yellow sun hovered eagerly in the eastern edge of the woods chasing away the chill of the morning air. At least her wolf had decided to play fair for once and had given her back their shared body next to the clothes Tala had shed and stuffed into her backpack before shifting into her wolf form. 

She stood on her wobbly legs and gathered her bearings. Fishing under the wild, thorny brambles of a blackberry bush for her backpack. The clothes inside were damp and reeked of mildew and raw earth. But, they'd do. She was tempted to forgo the smelly denim jeans and cotton t-shirt altogether. And might have, if the woods hadn't been trampled by hoards of mushroom hunters. There were still strays wandering about in search of the illusive fungus. Tala sniffed and could save them the trouble. The woods had been picked clean. Humans weren't the only ones who would balk about spotting a naked woman wandering through the woods. Vampires, one in particular, wasn't too fond of nudity either. 

Tala had managed to avoid Drew for weeks. It suited her just fine that he likewise avoided her too. The woods had basically been unofficially divided out into territories. Generally, the vampires played on their side of the playground and the wolves on theirs. And that might have worked out perfectly, if Drew hadn't belonged to both worlds. She caught his scent in the air and shimmied into her jeans. Pulling the t-shirt over her head, she realized she hadn't caught his scent. She was wearing it. And wasn't that just like her wolf to go and do something like that. Seek him out when she wanted nothing to do with him. 

Her wolf operated under the misconception that she ran the show and Tala was just along for the ride. Her wolf also held to the belief that Drew was their mate. Her wolf had the hots for his wolf. And that was too damn bad. Tala most definitely did not share the sentiment for the man housing the wolf inside his body. Her wolf snorted in her head, mocking the thought. Ok, Drew was all that and a box of chocolates. But, that was then and this was now. And she had bigger problems to worry about than a stubborn male terrified of his own skin. 

Her father was in danger. The pack was in danger. And nothing else took precedence over that. Drew knew what he needed to do. What she needed him to do. Tala had made it perfectly crystal clear. Even after laying it on the line, Drew still continued to deny the truth and yet, demanded it of her. She'd been a complete idiot. Oh yes, Drew loved her. Of that, she was certain. And she loved him. No question there. But, love had no business in her world. She'd been a fool to think it did. The harsh reality of her world was one of survival. Love was a luxury she could no longer afford. Love made a person weak. And she was not weak. She would do whatever she needed to do to protect her father. Even take a man as her mate that she could barely stomach. 

Grant was biding his time. Watching and waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. He was a strong Alpha. Young. Ambitious. Hungry. And her father's glory days had long passed. A mating with Grant would buy her father time. She'd hoped the Great White Wolf would step in and take his position as Supreme Pack Master. Drew carried the spirit of the wolf within him. And he could call rank. Instead, he'd done nothing. 

He was too afraid to set the wolf free. She understood. She truly did. Her world was terrifying and bloody. But, no worse than the world Drew was already a part of. And in some ways perhaps, even gentler than his. The wolves battled amongst themselves. They were few and their numbers scant. There were no wars. Fights were brief affairs, short and to the point, ending in death and therefore quickly resolved. And the motives for fights to the death were simple enough to understand. Hierarchy. It was all about station and rank. The choicest went to the strongest. Natural selection. Survival of the fittest was Mother Nature's ultimate fuck over. 

It wasn't so with the vampires. The brotherhood hovered on the brink of war with the rogues. The entire vampire nation was at odds with itself. And there would be no quick resolution rather just one bloody scuffle after the other. Vampires took their long lives for granted. Stupid creatures. They had plenty of time to nurse old grudges and scheme elaborate revenge scenarios. Vampires had the gift of preternatural bodies and the curse of far too human minds plagued with wants and desires. Greed. Wealth. Power. Corruption. Possession. And Tala wondered when...if...the fighting ever stopped...if Drew wouldn't find himself standing in the smoldering ashes of his world alone. 

Grant was too human. He wanted fiercely the things he could not have. He wanted her. At one time, she'd liked him as a friend. They talked for hours. Their wolves hunted together as partners. They were close. And it might have become more, in time. But, then the awfulness that was an alpha male reared its ugly head. He'd uttered the word no pack master's daughter ever wanted to hear. And in that one word, any feelings she might have thought she had for him turned to bitter hatred. 

In her world, she was the closest thing to a princess there was. She was as high in the ranks as a female could be, second only to her mother. Her mother was long gone. Crossed over to the spirit world. And her absence left Tala the highest-ranking Alpha female in the pack. She had her choice of everything, even mates. But, Grant would never be content as second Alpha male. Mating with him would only delay the inevitable a while longer. A decade might make all the difference though. Losing her might force Drew to act. And to save her father's life, true love was such a small sacrifice to make. 

She climbed up the stairs and slid into her room. Grant had followed her home. And the thought of him, of what she might be forced to do, made her skin crawl. The house was filled with the sound of children laughing, adults chattering, dishes clanking, and the heavy snores of the wolves still sleeping off the night's various activities. She wished she could join them in slumber. But, she doubted that sleep would come anytime soon. The only thing she wanted was a nice long, hot bath to wash the scent of Drew and shattered dreams from her skin. 

Her wolf balked at the idea of a mating with Grant just as much as her heart did. It could be worse, she supposed. Her father would most likely endorse such a union. Grant was an alpha. He was strong, fierce, and he would protect her. Qualities her father held prized above all others when it came to potential mates for his daughter. Her wolf should be dancing a jig that she'd finally settled on a potential mate. Instead she paced the background of her mind, pouting that it wasn't Drew Tala had chosen. Her wolf didn't matter. Her feelings didn't matter. Only her father and the assurance of his long life did.

Tala flipped the stopper on the drain and turned on the hot water tap. Peeling off her clothes, she sat on the edge of the tub and watched the water flow from the spout. Steam engulfed the room. The ends of her dark hair curled from the humidity. She wondered if at first her mother had truly loved her father or if love had come later on. Maybe, she could pretend to have feelings for Grant. And if she pretended long enough and hard enough, she could make it believable. Maybe someday, she could love Grant the way her mother had loved her father. Maybe someday, she'd forget Drew and what true love felt like and the shadowy emotions she might develop for Grant in time would pass for the real thing.

She didn't want to forget. She didn't want Grant's hands on her. Touching her the way Drew's hands had. Tala hated being in human form. The world was so much easier to process in her wolf form. Everything was so simple for her wolf. But, for her, it was so damn hard. She thought too much. Felt too much. And loved too much. A hiss escaped her lips as she slid over the side of the tub and eased down into the hot bath. The heat of the water reddened her skin and stung every inch of her. And she still could not drown out the memories of Drew's fingertips caressing her body. Pampering her in the shower. Introducing her to the world of passion and desire with careful, gentle strokes and wild, intimate kisses. She wished he hadn't. The loss of him was so much harder to endure. And the ache left behind by his absence a burden she didn't want.

Tala scrubbed quickly, making efficient passes of the soapy washcloth over her skin. Dunking her head under the water and dragging shampoo through the matted tangles of her hair with hurried strokes. Bubbles floated on the water's surface. The bath might be a nice place to daydream and indulge. And she might be tempted. But, to her, the warmth, the steamy humidity, and the fragrance of soap were just reminders on exactly what she had chosen to sacrifice. 

Annoyed with herself, with her wolf, with Drew, with the entire world, and all the people in it. She kicked the stopper open on the drain and rinsed clean in the shower. She had no more than began drying off with the rough corner of a towel when a sharp knock had her scrabbling for her robe. 

None of her family had any qualms about nudity. Nudity was a fact of life and one of sheer practicality for them. Clothes were expensive to replace and dangerous for a wolf. And everyone stripped before shifting. But, since meeting Drew, her view on that had changed considerably. She had become more human and more aware, definitely more aware, of her body. Delaying long enough to cinch the robe shut. Wanting to avoid the man standing on the other side of the closed door as long as possible, she asked, "Who is it?"

"Tala, I need to speak with you," Nash replied. His alpha did not like waiting. And Tala knew damn good and well he was on the other side of her closed bedroom door. He heard the rustling of clothes and the patter of her footsteps across the wooden floors. He was worried about his daughter. Something wasn't right with her. Hadn't been since he'd arrived with the pack. She hid things from him. Her thoughts and feelings she kept to herself, buried deep down. And if it hadn't been for the change in her scent, he wouldn't have known there was anything wrong at all. 

There was a cloud of sadness and despair surrounding her. His wolf caught the pungent scent of her emotions and growled low, ready to defend. And Nash agreed. If only he knew what it was he was supposed to be defending her from. He could guess at the cause for her angst. But, he'd probably be wrong. Tala was so much like her mother it frightened him. She had her mother's petite build, pert nose, and glorious curtain of silky dark hair, and sometimes, her moods as well. Occasionally, he swore Tala was her clone. And he might have believed it. If not for her brown eyes that were so much like his. Nash had spent his life making her mother happy. And as he had with her, usually he succeeded in making his daughter happy as well. Tala was not a light spirit, carefree and tossed about by whims. When she felt, she felt deeply. And her emotions were ones of intense feeling. 




Dawn's Destiny



Tala performed her duties well. Shared in the chores. Aided with caring for the younger members of the pack. She never faltered. But, she wasn't the same, although, she desperately tried to hide it from him. And he had yet to figure out exactly what was bothering her. She spent more time in her wolf form than she did in her human one. She rarely ate. Never slept. And she ducked her head, avoiding everyone, including him. Nash respected his daughter's privacy. There was so little of it in a family this large. But, enough was enough. 

"Maybe, later would be better, Dad. I'm getting dressed," Tala shouted through the closed door. Maybe, her dad would give up and go away. Not likely though. Privacy was a rarity. And her father went out of his way to provide as much as possible to everyone. Although, the house was more than large enough to accommodate the pack, sometimes it felt way too small and confining. Her pack, the only one that she knew of in existence, consisted of her father, two older brothers and their families, five mated younger sisters their families, various aunts and uncles, cousins, and a few more assorted relatives that were so distantly related to her that they couldn't be called relatives at all. One of those lucky bastards, the not related relatives, would win her as the grand prize. And Grant was the prime contestant in the running. Hell, he was the only contestant in the running worthy of her father's seal of approval. 

DNA was what it all came down to. And Tala hated that simple biological fact more than any other. Her DNA made her what she was and defined her to the very molecules of her being. Males fought to the death to spread their DNA and spawn heirs. The females flaunted their DNA for the males the way human women flaunted their breasts for men. The purest and the more superior, the better children they'd produce. Magic might have created them. Made them what they were. But, DNA was the key in the lock. 

Tala could hear her father breathing on the other side of the door. Huffing in irritation that his command hadn't been immediately followed and the door opened. She pulled the belt on her robe so tightly it pinched her waist. She really didn't want to have this talk with her father. She was not some teenage girl love sick over her first crush. She was not some archaic maiden bound to her father's whims. She was an adult. A woman. And what she did with her life and whom she did it with was her choice. But, if that were one hundred percent the truth, she would open the door and tell him everything. If it was just the two of them and there was no pack, no fight for survival, and no fear for her father's life, she would do just that. 

Unfortunately, that was not the case. And if he looked weak, Grant would challenge him. Drew would be a prime choice for a mate. Mating with him would secure her father's place in the pack for the rest of his life. No one, not even Grant, would dare to stand against the Great White Wolf. The pack had not accepted Drew. And choosing him over Grant as things currently were would be a death sentence for her father. The pack was weak. Drew was weaker. And Grant was only gaining in strength. The only hope in hell she had in reining him in lay between her thighs. That maybe, when the time came to challenge her father, Grant would show mercy and let him live. "Dad, later. Please."

"Don't try to ditch me, Tala. We. Will. Talk," Nash shouted, ramming his index finger against the door. He was the alpha and he catered to nobody. Not even his daughter. To do so, no matter how much he loved her, would be seen as weakness. And now was not the time to show any hint of weakness. The pack needed him. She needed him. And Grant needed to be taught a valuable lesson. 

Oh yes, in time Grant stood a very good chance of taking over the pack. But, that time was not now, not next week, or anytime in the foreseeable future. Nash was strong enough to handle a whelp like Grant. The man had a weakness and Nash fully intended to exploit it. The man was in love with his daughter. If only his daughter felt the same for Grant and could look at him with anything other than disgust in her eyes. Her future would be secure. As it was, her future was more precarious than his own. She'd fallen in love. Just not with the right man. 

"Ok," Tala said. She held her breath until she heard the sound of her father's boot soles striking hard and agitated against wood floor, moving away from the door and down the hall. Determined to make the best of things, first and foremost, working the tangles out of her hair. She flipped on the bathroom light and fished a comb out of the vanity. 

Every flaw was highlighted by unflattering, white, garish, light of the incandescent bulbs. She looked like hell. Her skin, normally shimmering with a tanned healthy glow was sallow. Her complexion ruined. Her hair drooped in long, black, wet tangles. Her brown eyes lacked the luster they'd once held. And dark purple bags hung low beneath them from lack of sleep. Her ribs stuck out and her pubic bones jutted outward in a harsh plane beneath the sunken flesh of her belly.

Maybe, just maybe, if she looked this bad, Grant wouldn't want her and she'd be freed from her duty to the pack. Ha! Not likely. Consummation of a marriage and the manufacturing of babies only took a few thrusts and clumsy pushes. And in the dark, even she would be appealing enough for that.

Disgusted with her appearance she flipped off the lights and curled up into a tight ball on her bed. She was such a coward. She didn't have to live like this. She could have told her father the truth. Confronted him and defied the destiny he had in mind for her. Instead, like an idiot, she'd caved. Not saying a word. But, locking the secret up tightly. Burdened by a destiny she didn't want. Dying slowly day-by-day, consumed by a love she couldn't embrace and wanting a man she could not have.

Her father was not unsympathetic. He would understand. But, he would also do what was best for the pack before he did what was best for her. It was just the way of their world. She had to deceive herself into thinking that there was no way that what she felt for Drew was real. What kind of a future could they truly have together anyway? He had too much to deal with as it was. And he didn't need her complicating things any further. He did not want a family. She'd seen his reluctance to believe her reflected in his expression. He did not want the wolf inside of him. He'd told her that in a fit of rage. And he'd meant it. He didn't want any part of the wolf. And in denying his wolf, he'd denied her. 

At least, in his own way, Grant wanted her. She just wished she could manage to work up a little enthusiasm about it. Grant was everything she should want and didn't. And Drew was everything she shouldn't want and did. In fact, the Great Father, Drew, the Great White Wolf, was her uncle. His brother was the father of her people. But, Drew and she weren't directly genetically related. Thankfully. She was born almost one hundred eighty years and many generations after Drew ceased to be human. And their genetic relationship was too distant to matter. Not that it made any difference anyway. They were never going to be together. 

Modern life was tempting and so many had given up the way of the wolf. Abandoned the ancient magic for the magic and wonder of the glittering lights of distant cities. Extinction of the race was a real possibility. She, as a daughter of the pack was expected to do her part and reproduce. What she actually wanted mattered little in her world. And if she died, as many females did birthing young, mattered even less. 

Tala rolled over on the comforter, facing away from the cheerfulness of the sunny windows. Preferring the gloom of her bedroom's shadowy corners. If she didn't choose one of the eligible bastards downstairs soon, her father would do it for her. And his choice would be Grant. Physically, the males were an attractive enough. But, it was the constant fighting for her affections. The way they brutishly scrambled over one another to get her attention was a total turn off. She didn't like them. And not one of them could hold her interest for more than five minutes. The males in her pack were perfect for some lucky female. It just wasn't her. None of the males could ever hope to have a chance of winning her heart. It belonged to Drew alone. And no matter how many parlor tricks or fights to the death they fought in her honor they would never be able to steal it away from him.

She wished the night on the bluffs had gone differently. She wished Drew had taken what she'd offered. For those of her kind, a bond was formed with the joining of male and female and it could not be broken unless by death of the mate or surrendering the wolf and choosing to remain human. It didn't really matter. The end result was the same. Death. Without shifting, without the magic of the pack, her body would age at a normal human pace. Instead of decades of vitality and youth, she would deteriorate, and die within a few short decades. 

Her grandparents had lived to be in their second century of life. Her father, Nash, was a very spry hundred and fifteen years old last summer. Yet, he didn't look a day past his early forties. She was technically, thirty-five. But, still looked the same as she had over a decade ago. Aging ground to a slow crawl with her a wolf's first shift. And for her, the shift had happened at twenty-one. And luckily for her, the cursed biological clock wouldn't start ticking for at least a century or so. She had plenty of time to choose a mate. But, her father and the pack, unfortunately didn't agree. Their philosophy was one of simple mathematics. The younger a female started, the more babies she could produce, and the bigger the pack. 

Drew had been more than willing to make love to her. Love wasn't the problem. Their feelings about one another were perfectly, painfully clear. He'd feared the risk of a permanent bond before either of them was ready for it. She'd been a ball of hormones ready to throw it all away. And he'd been the voice of reason. Angrily, Tala punched her pillow, furious with Drew's demands and even more furious with herself for not possessing the courage to meet them. The one night they would have shared. Hands and mouths exploring each other's bodies would have been better than the cold, hollow, existence she had now. Never knowing just one night of true love, of passion, was far worse than what her pack demanded of her. 

She knew Drew was right. They couldn't sneak around and keep her father and the pack in the dark. If they had tried, the truth would have come out eventually anyway and the matter would be worse. The pack would have seen sneaking around behind her father's back as a sign of disloyalty. Drew wasn't asking her to make a choice of him or the pack. He was asking her to tell the truth. Admit her love for him and let the pieces fall where they may.

If only they'd had that one night together. Assuming the myth of some mystical bond was utter bullshit and there wouldn't have been any consequences other than the obvious. Maybe then, she could have moved on and chosen one of the males in her pack as a mate. Endured the passionless minutes she'd spend with him rutting on top of her to give the pack the babies they so desperately craved. 

Drew was capable, although she suspected he didn't entirely believe her. He could father children. His brother was proof of that. Otherwise, she wouldn't be here. But, Drew had his demands and she had hers. And she could not plan a future with a man at such odds with himself and the very core of who he was. Until he accepted his wolf, he could not, they could not, move forward. Truth was a double-edged sword. And it was cutting her to pieces. 

She had to move on without him. He might have centuries to get his life together. But, she did not. Nana was the oldest living wolf she knew of. And Nana, although spry enough to give any young wolf a run for his money, was just a hair under two hundred years old. She was the last of the Great White Wolf's original children. And she missed her father terribly. Soon she would join him on the banks of the Great River.

Tala could relate to losing someone you loved. She had no choice but to forget Drew, dust her self off, and plunge bravely ahead. Who was she kidding? The thought of another man touching her sickened her to the very essence of her core. For her, it was Drew or nothing. She had not heard so much as a whisper from Drew since that morning on the bluffs. So, she could only suppose, that she had nothing.

Tala did not want a loveless mating. Her life was too long to just simply tolerate a man she could hardly stand. She'd seen it happen too many times. Couples bound together thanks to their children and their loyalty to the pack. Stuck together with nothing in common except their DNA and one night of attraction. Love could happen. Her parents and her brother, Hunter, were proof of that. Even her five mated sisters seemed happy enough. 

Maybe, she wanted too much. Expected more out of life than what it could actually deliver. Her hormones played hell with her. Her wolf grew impatient waiting for her to decide. And the truth might not be as simple as she first thought. She was terrified of dying. Not of death. Only of dying. 

Her mother had died bringing her into the world. And to this day, her father still mourned her. She'd watched Hunter suffer for years. Burying his pain beneath his gruff exterior. Marianne had left three beautiful children behind. And the pack raised them. Her father acted as a stand in for Hunter simply because Hunter could not look at his kids without seeing her face. And as he avoided his pain, he avoided his children. Tala craved a mate she actually loved. But, she could never do that to him or their children. Leave them behind alone or worse, take her mate to the grave with her. And yes, although Hunter was technically alive. He had not lived since his daughter took her first breath and his wife, her last. 

Tala forced her eyes shut and willed herself to sleep. Instead of the black, dreamless nothing she'd grown accustomed to when she closed her eyes. She dreamed of Drew and of possible futures that could never be. They were happy. They were alive. And they were in love in that shadowy land of unreality. She awoke bleary eyed. Maybe, it was a dream, just wishful thinking playing hell with her subconscious mind. But, for the first time since that fateful morning on the bluffs when they'd shattered one another's hearts. She had the slightest glimmer of hope. 

Chapter 3

Drew stomped through the compound. The wise ducked out of his way. Bad mood didn't begin to define his emotional status. The trail of the wolf's tongue burned his cheek. Tala. He hadn't seen her since he'd made his demand. Since the sunrise on the bluffs weeks ago when she'd offered her body and he'd refused it. Idiot. The truth had meant more to him than claiming the sweet prize she'd willingly laid at his feet. Stupid. Morality sucked! He could be enjoying her now. Slipping out with her into the darkness every night. Holding, loving, nuzzling her, relieving the pent up frustrations they both shared. But no, he had to push her away by demanding that she confess her love for him to her father. Dumb ass. As tempting as it was, he couldn't live a lie. And now he was paying the price, morality intact, but body and soul aching in need for her. 

He should have left the compound. Gone back to his wonderings. Traveling from lodge to lodge across the country, as was his habit. But, since Tala had come into his life, he had been content to stay put and lay down roots. Despite their lack of communication, he couldn't bear the thought of putting any more distance between them than he already had. 

He longed to see her. To tell her that he still loved her and that he understood why she hadn't confessed the truth about them to her father. To hold her and reassure her that somehow, they'd find a way to make it work. But, he couldn't weave such a fabrication for temporary happiness. And he wasn't sure if there really was a way that all parties involved could win. Someone would have to lose. And it looked more and more like that someone was going to be him. 

"Drew," Anna whispered. She glanced over her shoulder. Encouraged by the eager faces of the women peeking out from around the corner she prepared to state her, or rather, their case. Drew was a hard man to catch these days. He'd always kept to himself, stoic, removed, and coolly distant from the rest of the brotherhood. It was rare to see glimpses of the man he truly was beneath the burden of leadership on his shoulders. But, she had. Most of the vampires avoided her kitchen. After all, there wasn't any real need for them to venture there. Odd though, some of the best conversations, real heart to heart stuff, happened in the one room nobody ever used except for her. 

"Anna." Drew turned and nodded to the willowy blonde. She was tall enough that they could almost see eye to eye. Perhaps, it was Anna's coloring, pale blonde hair, flawless alabaster skin, and arctic blue eyes that lent to the coolness of her exterior. She was anything but. She had survived in the corporate world. And her businesslike tone carried over into her personal life, especially now at times like these. When she'd been volunteered by the women to be the spokesperson of the group. A twinkle of amusement highlighted his features as he eyed the eager faces of the women peeking around the corner. When women traveled in packs it was only for one reason. They wanted something.

It was absolutely impossible to maintain a bad mood in the presence of the women. Or perhaps, it was that Drew had always had a soft spot for the gentler sex and that was the reason for the smile creeping across his lips. And these women in particular had a place in his heart. They were the glue that held the brothers together. They saw the things the males of the compound did not. And not only did they take care of business. The women took care of them. If not for them, the brothers probably wouldn't have electricity or a clean pair of socks. He'd never understand how the women just knew on some kind of an instinctive level what it took to transform a house into a happy home. But, they did. 

"Ah, we were wondering." Anna shuffled her feet nervously, tasting her question on the tip of her tongue. Their idea was a good one. And it was just a question. What was he going to do stake her for asking it? Although she knew Drew and knew his heart, he was still an ominous site. He towered over six feet tall, with wide bulky shoulders, piercing deep brown/gold eyes, a high aquiline nose and chiseled cheeks, hair, black as coal, streaked with silver, emulating power from every pore. "Now that our... friends have had a chance to settle in. Well, it doesn't seem right not to invite them over for a cookout or a welcoming party."

"A cookout?" Drew raised his eyebrows. He was not up on modern terms quite as well as he should be. Only recently had the TV in his room gotten any use at all. He rather enjoyed Judge Judy. Vicious little thing was a woman after his own heart. She would have made a good Son. 

He assumed Anna was talking about preparing food and eating it outdoors. Vampires could not eat. Most of them couldn't stomach the scent of human food. Anna was a rare exception to the rule. She could not eat though. Perhaps, that was why she enjoyed cooking in such great quantities. It was as close to eating as she could get. 

She lived precariously through watching people consume her many delicacies and their complements on her skill. Nobody who could eat ever left the compound empty handed. And they never got past her without sampling her latest dish. There was one thing for certain. A vampire could always smell a human. And Anna sniffed them out, stuffed them, and sent them home with more leftovers than they could possibly eat. 




Dawn's Destiny



"You won't have to lift a finger. The girls and I will take care of everything. All you have to do is go over and extend the invitation," Anna added nervously. Usually, the Sons loved any excuse to party down at the sacred bluffs. Relations between the brotherhood and the wolves were strained. And there'd been a few light scuffles over territories. Understandable. Two very distinctively different territorial predators prowling the same woods, hunting the same food source was bound to cause a few misunderstandings. She would have thought Drew would jump at the chance to offer up an olive branch. But, he regarded her with cold disinterest. 

Drew's thoughts wandered back to the same place they always did, to Tala. She had come as an emissary to petition Drew on behalf of her people. The wolves needed a new home. And she claimed the Great White Wolf had sent her here, to him, to procure it. The wolves required space to roam, prey to hunt, and above all else, privacy. His woods were more than ample to provide for their needs and still support the brothers. 

The wolves had a deeply rooted connection to nature and could not tolerate being confined below ground. As lush and luxurious as the subterranean tunnels that the vampires called home were. They were not a suitable home for the pack. Tala's family had been relocated to the sprawling three-story house Anna and Chris had designed and the brothers had built, for the most part, with their own hands. 

Drew, hadn't dedicated as much time to the pack as he should have. He had been 

too busy avoiding Tala to pay a visit proper visit to her father. Nash was a fine pack master and he saw to the needs of his pack without much intervention from Drew. The pack had their own set of laws. And Nash, although not overly heavy handed in dispensing justice, saw to it that his pack followed them. The pack had enough wealth and means of supporting themselves and required no assistance from the Sons. Nash had traversed Drew's threshold when necessary. And Drew had never returned the favor. For cousins and neighbors, Drew and his brothers were not behaving very much like either.

He thought on the request and liked the idea. The women were right. They were always right. Trust was a thing hard earned. And he'd done nothing to earn that of the pack's. The bluffs were the central point of the territory split between the brothers and the wolves. And while there were no rules about traversing territories out of basic necessity for the continued safety and security of each group, neither bothered too much with the other. 

The Sons had been neglectful to their distant cousins. And a party might aid in building a trust between them. Drew had no idea why the goddess had sent the wolves here when she had. His brother had acted in the pack's best interest in sending the wolves to him instead of him to them. But, of course, his brother probably knew, Drew was too stubborn to go to them. Somehow though, he had a feeling the timing although it had a lot to do with his brother's death, there was more to it than that. Kokumthena had sent the wolves here for a reason. And Drew wasn't certain he had even scratched the surface as to what it might be. "Tomorrow night sound good?"

Victoriously, Anna beamed up at Drew. She'd expected more of an argument based on his initial reaction to the idea. Maybe, he just accepted the rightness of bringing these two groups together in the same place. Anna didn't bother looking over her shoulder to ask for everyone's approval. She took what Drew offered and ran with it. "We can do that." 

Before Drew could utter another word. The women rushed off, chattering excitedly and making their arrangements. After the noon sun settled, he would go out and pay his kin a visit. Extend the invitation. And hopefully, by some miracle, he'd catch a glimpse of Tala while he was there. If not, he most definitely would tomorrow night. And maybe, if he were lucky, she'd even grace him with a glance in his direction. He hated sounding like a lovesick schoolboy. He should go over there right now and claim what he wanted. But, he was not that man. And in affairs of the heart he had no idea of how to proceed. 

He was however a man that tended to what was his. He had always stepped up to do his job. And nothing, not even Tala, even if she hated him and never wanted to see his face again, could stop him from doing his duty. He was a man of three different natures. The vampire in him longed to stay underground and wait out the day. The wolf in him needed to be above ground to revel in the light. And the man in him demanded that he be the leader he always had been and get down to business. He had a pack in need of a leader, a brotherhood in need of guidance, and a woman's heart to win. 









Chapter 4

The rag tag band of recruits and volunteers that made up the Guardians stood shoulder to shoulder. Not even daring to breathe as Keene walked up and down their ranks for daily inspection. Keene said nothing. He straightened a collar here. Tucked in a shirttail there. Nudged one forward and one back to make the line absolutely perfectly straight. Discipline was a necessity. And it was something the Guardians were sorely lacking. A few rare ones in these ranks had been alive since before the Mayflower crossed the Atlantic. One or two of them had been alive even longer than that. And that made for a hell of a lot of bad habits to break. He had to be gentle though. Encouraging of this newly formed group or they would fail. 

Vampires were a fickle lot by their very nature. And the mishmash of backgrounds and ages lined up eagerly before him were even more so. Strays notoriously served no one except for themselves. They hid in the shadows and avoided choosing sides. And somehow, Carter had managed to rally them together for a common cause. There were men. There were women. And a handful of them were barely out of puberty. There were the young and the old, the rich and the poor, some skilled, and some without a shred of ability whatsoever. And Keene had the task of transforming each and every one of them into a united lethal force. He was not alone in his efforts. All of the brothers had lent a hand in getting the Guardians this far. 

The ranks had thinned a bit since their first day. And only the truly dedicated had stayed to complete the training. A month wasn't much time to teach this various and sundry group everything they needed to know. Keene had barely touched on the basics. And he'd have to hope the Guardians had learned something during their time together. Enough, at least, to save their assess when the occasion called for it. And he had no doubt. The occasion would come sooner rather than later. It'd take years to train the Guardians the way they ought to be trained. Unfortunately, they didn't have years. Even the weeks he had spent training them were a luxury they couldn't afford. 

The city was wide open. And with the sparse number of reinforcements the Guardians had allowed the brotherhood to dispatch to patrol her glittering borders. She was ripe for the picking. The Guardians had to be handled with great care. For the moment, they were the brotherhood's allies. But, one misstep and all that could change. And the Sons sure as hell didn't need more enemies. 

The Guardians had stood up for their city and for each other against the Rogues and the Sons. They willingly claimed full responsibility for protecting the city and her eight hundred thousand or so inhabitants. And the brothers needed the help in the continuing battle with the Rogues. Rogues were essentially the summation of humanity's worst fears. The reason for the myths about coffins, crosses, holy water, sunlight, and of course, the ever popular stake through the heart. Sprouting fangs didn't change who a person was. Immortality was not a get out of jail free card for a person's morality. But, the Rogues, vampires who cared little for their own kind and even less for humankind, thought differently. And that was something Keene and almost every Guardian lined up in front of him knew too much about. 

The Great Father, saw the potential the Guardians possessed and had offered up the brotherhood's assistance. Not just for training, but in all things. The computer banks at the compound were linked into the Guardians' databases. The brotherhood's extensive network of security cameras was accessible from the Guardians' monitors. The brothers taught the Guardians how to fight, how to blend in, and most importantly how to kill when necessary. 

As much as the brothers were opposed to it, the Guardians had full access to all areas of the compound from the weapons lockers to the goddamned closet where Candace kept the toilet brushes. Drew had granted the Guardians every right and entitlement of a fully vowed and blooded Son, including the key to the fucking front door. Keene didn't trust easily. Came with the turf. He'd seen what the Rogues were capable of. He'd done it himself. And he hoped like hell, Drew, their Great Father, hadn't made a mistake in trusting the Guardians. Otherwise, the brothers were in for one nasty fight. 

Keene stepped back and wondered exactly how he was going to transform this group of lost souls into the powerful warriors they'd need to become to keep the city safe and protected. Wasn't going to be easy. Drew saw more in them than he sure as hell did. But, it wasn't as entirely hopeless as he'd first suspected. 

The primary lesson the Guardians had to learn was to control their natures. While here, the Guardians ate what the Sons ate. The blood of wild game provided the mainstay of the brotherhood's diet. Only occasionally to supplement what the weaker animal blood could not they drank from humans. They hunted animals in the woods and slaked the worst of their thirst on deer. And that was a very difficult and foreign concept for the strays to grasp. It was in a vampire's nature to kill the prey. The Sons did not kill. They captured, drank, and released. Only on occasional exceptions as part of ritual celebrations was their nature allowed off the chain to kill their animal prey. 

The Sons captured, they drank, and they released. The Guardians knew the rules about killing humans. They fully understood that violating that rule would get them killed. And for the most part, even before joining the ranks, very few preyed on humans and drank them down to the point of death. It was too hard to get rid of the bodies and letting the humans return to their lives, a pint or two low, but still alive, was simply easier than dealing with the remains. 

But, the Guardians had a little trouble adapting to drinking from animals and not taking their fill of the death. The Strays and few random rogues making up the Guardians' ranks were killers. But, they weren't murders. It was strange though. How a newborn vampire breaking in his baby fangs could get the concept of drinking only what was absolutely necessary. Yet, a vampire many times the age of a newborn had such difficulty grasping the concept and maintaining control. The wolves had eaten very well of the litter of carcasses left behind in the first week. 

At first, the trainees balked at the rules and the hours of rigorous exercises Keene had put them through. But, after an inspirational speech gently reminding them why they were here from Carter. Everyone seemed to get on board with the program. Carter was perhaps the one vampire in the ranks that did not need the training. And Keene supposed the man did put himself through the paces just to prove he was no different than the rest of them. 

Carter hid his true skill and the truth of his power behind the mask of his pretty face. Carter had the strength of a master quite capable of leading the Guardians. Yet, he shielded it so well. He was old, not quite ancient, but certainly old enough to hold his own in the world. The man was a bit of a chameleon and quite skilled at blending in to the woodwork despite his masculine beauty and the draw of his powerful charisma. He'd have to be to stay hidden from O'Sullivan as well as he had all these years. It wouldn't have been easy for a man of Carter's abilities to stay under the radar. But, Carter had managed to. He'd lived in the city right under Roark's nose for decades. And not even Roark had the lack of insight to seek him out. 

The only reason the brotherhood had discovered Carter at all was thanks to Angel. She'd flushed him out of hiding. And he'd revealed himself to the brothers by accident in the process of saving her life. Carter was involved long before his run in with the brothers. He'd been quietly keeping to the shadows. Cleaning up the mess the rogues left behind. And he would have continued to do so. Taking no credit. Shouldering every risk by himself, if his path hadn't led him straight to the very man, perhaps the only man, he truly feared. O'Sullivan was a nasty bastard. And unlike Roark, Eric was completely sane. 

Carter, at first, was a little less than helpful. But, Keene had mad skills of persuasion. No, he didn't want to send a lamb into the lion's den. But, Carter was hardly the lamb he pretended to be. Carter had come out basically unscathed from his meeting with O'Sullivan, having delivered the brotherhood's message to the man. And maybe, seeing O'Sullivan face to face, whatever had transpired between the two of them, was what got Carter's ass in gear. Got him involved when he obviously wanted otherwise. Keene certainly hadn't expected Carter to show up at the river bottoms that night. And he sure as hell hadn't expected Carter to rally the kind of support he had. Carter was brave and there was more than a bit of beast in all that masculine beauty of his. Little by little, he earned more and more of the brotherhood's respect. Angel had been right in her assumption that the man was more than he appeared. 

"What do you think?" Carter asked somewhat nervously. He couldn't believe that one little run in with a black haired vixen would have resulted in his leading a revolution. But, here he was with the symbol of the Guardians inked in black on his forearm. He was the one who supposedly never got involved in anything. He'd never wanted to be a leader. And his policy of strict non-involvement had served him well enough to stay one step ahead of Eric for the last couple of centuries. Everything was different now. He was done hiding in the shadows and finished with running from O'Sullivan. He had no specific love of the brotherhood. But, he shared in their beliefs, to a point. No human, no matter how putrid or pathetic of an existence they lived, deserved to die. 

Carter waited impatiently for Keene's pensive answer. Keene was tough and wouldn't mix words. He was a formidable warrior and an absolute hulk of a man. Thick and tall, broad shouldered, with gray eyes that shone like quicksilver and hair the color of cinnamon showered down his back in springy curls. But, no one would dare to point out that the warrior's hair looked feminine in any way, shape, or form. Not if they wanted to live.

The tattoos scrolling across Keene's right bicep, black and thick ink marks, indicated his former allegiance with Roark. Keene made no attempt to hide them. And what was the point? His reputation stretched far and wide in the vampire world. Everyone knew who he had been. The deaths he'd delivered as Roark's right hand man. And everyone knew beyond a doubt what team Keene played for now. Indigo markings trailed down his back and wrapped around his right rib cage, a symbol of his place in the brotherhood. His left forearm, in a show of support, bore the markings of a Guardian. 

Carter was not a small man. But, he appeared so in comparison to Keene's bulky girth. And he appeared all the prettier for the deep gauges and battle scars stretching across Keene's pockmarked skin. Carter used his looks to his advantage. It was amazing in this day and age how easy it was to score a meal with nothing more than a casual smile. He actually hated the perfect slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the angular tilt of his jaw, the chiseled features of his face, the lean definition of the planes of his long, lithe body, the paleness of his milky complexion, the tight spirals of his golden blond hair, and the iciness of his blue eyes. 

He hated anything and everything having to do with his beauty. He would have rather lived an ugly man and died the natural death that had been stolen from him than to have this face...this sham of a life... only because he was cursed with rare masculine beauty. His mother used to stroke his cheek and tell him the angels kissed him on the day he was born and that was why he was so beautiful. He'd like to beg to differ. The only preternatural thing that had ever kissed him was a vampire. And he'd suffered the curse of that kiss for over five hundred years.

He surveyed his group. The Guardians weren't much. A rag tag assembly of misfits and outcasts any self-respecting rogue would never take seriously. But, they were here and they were trying. Choice gave men bravery. Carter understood that better than anyone. Very few of the Guardians had chosen to become what they were. Throughout the whole of their very long lives, they'd existed with very few choices. And it was this freedom, the ability to choose, they fought to uphold. Most had served a master and suffered in his grip. Many had fled across oceans and continents to escape the cruelty of a faction. And that was something not even the brothers fully understood. They made a choice to become what they were. But, they'd never known what it was like to live without one. Carter had. Keene had. And the vampires lined up in a tidy formation had. And perhaps, that was why they worked so hard to turn this lot of vampires not even the rogues would have into a force worthy of respect. 

"They'll do," Keene answered with a nod. The Guardians had foregone a standard uniform. They dressed to blend into their urban environment. Some wore suits and ties, some tennis skirts and diamond bracelets, some housecoats, some black pumps and crisp linen slacks, some tattered rags, and others, pants with the ass sagging between their knees. And while no, it was not the Sons trademark black leather. The clothing was just as good at making the Guardians completely and utterly invisible. The Guardians were doing what they'd always done melting into the background, watching and waiting. Only this time, they'd act on what they saw.

Carter chuckled at Keene's assessment of his Guardians. He'd covered the various parts of the city well and his Guardians looked every bit the part they'd play in society. The brotherhood stood out like a sore thumb when they came into the city. The black leather and gleaming blades were a little hard to miss. His team was well armed, some rather creatively so. He had no idea where the blonde detailed to patrol the seedier section of the city had stashed her weapons. And he wasn't sure he wanted to. 

The brothers had outfitted the Guardians with trackers and com devices disguised as ordinary everyday items such as pieces of jewelry and buttons on shirts. Anything could be fashioned into a weapon. It was more in the abilities of the person wielding the weapon than the actual weapon itself. And the three-inch stiletto heeled pumps Bianca wore on her dainty feet were quite lethal. 

In his assessment, although he knew he'd send some of them out on assignment and they would never return alive, the Guardians were as ready as they were ever going to be. Keene kept insisting they weren't ready. And while Carter agreed with him in so many ways, it was a risk the Guardians were willing to take. They couldn't hide here forever training to fight the good fight but, never fighting it. 

So many people underestimated others based on mere appearance. These Guardians were a hell of a lot tougher than they looked. Sure, they weren't trained. Naturally, they weren't masters of discipline. But, life on the streets, surviving it alone, had prepared them better than any amount of training ever could have. Carter was no stranger to the fact that his looks were deceiving. Generally, he wore the best of the best. Designer suits, expensive fabrics and cuts expertly tailored to fit his frame and to look the part he chose most often to play. Today, he'd ditched the clothes in preference for a more casual look. Cotton suited him and the faded jeans and t-shirt were a better option for the point he wanted to make. 




Dawn's Destiny



Keene put too much pride in his size. God gifted him with that much as He had cursed Carter with his fair face. Hard work had honed the bulk of Keene's muscles before he was turned. He trained furiously. But, he rarely had to call on his fighting skills. His body was threat enough to keep most truly dangerous vampires in line. Sparring with the brothers and the Guardians didn't necessarily count. Carter used intimidation in much the same way. Money and beauty were just as intimidating as sheer physical size. 

Keene underestimated exactly what Carter was capable of. Carter stood a tall six-foot four inches tall and the last time he'd bothered to step on a scale out of curiosity he'd weighed about one hundred kilograms. And as a human, he'd been no stranger to a hard day's labor. He wasn't bulky like Keene. But, he didn't need to be. Keene was taller almost six-foot eight and probably had at least another fifty kilograms on him. His size made him slightly slower and not nearly as nimble. And his pride was a far greater detriment than his muscular bulk. 

Carter had been a killer long before Keene's forefathers paddled across the Atlantic. He was tamed. But, he was still every bit as lethal when the situation called for it. Cracking his neck, he smiled a truly dazzling smile at Keene. Egging Keene on, he flexed his shoulders and made a rude gesture that needed no interpretation. It was time to show Keene what a Guardian could do. 

Keene cocked his right brow. Carter looked too pretty to do any real damage. But, then again, looks were deceiving. Carter and he were at an impasse. They agreed that the Guardians weren't ready. But, they held separate opinions on whether the Guardians were prepared to return to the city or not. Ultimately, it was Carter's decision. Keene had simply tried to sway him into staying a while longer. He did not want to be the one to send these good men and women to their deaths so unprepared. But, was anyone ever truly prepared for death? Losses in a fight as old and longstanding as the one between the rogues and the Sons were to be expected. Carter had already accepted that fact. And perhaps, it was simply Keene's hesitancy, having died as a youth on a cold battlefield poorly trained and completely unprepared and the hell that had happened afterwards, that had him delaying the Guardians' departure as long as possible. 

Keene snickered as Carter flew him the bird. He really didn't want to bash in Carter's pretty face. But, the male pride in him could not let the insult go unanswered. Cajoles and catcalls sounded from the Guardians and the Sons that had been lured in by the promise of a good fight. Keene understood what Carter was doing. He was pumping up the Guardians. Proving they were able to hold their own against anybody. And sure, the tactic was good for morale. But, Keene wasn't going to take an ass whipping just to boost the Guardians' spirits. His brothers would never let him live it down if he did. Carter and he wouldn't kill one another. But, they were sure as hell going to have a good time trying. Call him suspicious, maybe even paranoid. But, anyone who wasn't a Son was a potential enemy. And it never hurt to know exactly what the other guy was capable of. Stretching the kinks out of his spine, Keene raised his fists and answered the challenge. 

 Chapter 5

Drew settled into the wingback chair across from Nash. The rich maroon upholstery groaned as he adjusted his weight into a more comfortable position. He could not 'do' casual. And neither could Nash. Leader sat facing leader, alpha face to face with alpha. Power rippled from man to man. Wolf to wolf, they sized one another up. 

The study was luxurious yet, comfortable and welcoming, as Anna and Chris had intended. A fire blazed in the natural stone fireplace dominating the wall chasing away the afternoon's gloomy chill. Leather bound books, some of the spines cracked with age filled every shelf of the twin bookcases on either side of the wide windows. Restrained energy sizzled in the air. And the smell of wolf musk and pungent wood smoke filled the room. The walls had been painted in a masculine soothing shade of woodsy green. And the thick rug under his feet was patterned in the colors of the forest floor. A desk made of heavy oak, rustic but functional in design, filled the space behind him. A litter of paperwork covered every available inch of the desk's wide top.

Wolves did not necessarily adhere to the necessity of avoiding photographs. Snapshots and pictures of people Drew did not know. But, yet seemed familiar to him through their resemblance to his brother, hung on the walls in frames and stretched from end to end on the oak mantle above the fireplace. Family was what it was all about. The reason he was sitting here trying desperately to think of something brilliant to say.

Nash was one for silence. And he regarded him with deep brown eyes far too similar to his brother's and to his own. Everything with this man was a test, a test of patience, a test of wit, and a test of power. Nash did not speak and gave Drew full command of the floor. The fire popped cheerily and a spark drifted downward into the flames. And the quiet between the two of them stretched on. 

Nash had been an accommodating host. Welcoming him in and escorting him into the study away from the pack and straight to the wing back chair. Nash was very amicable in his gestures and hospitality. But, even his friendliness was a test. His offering of fine scotch whiskey was another test. Drew had been a vampire long enough to fool the most discerning eye into believing a meal had been eaten and a glass emptied. It was just a trick, a slight of hand. He'd accepted the double shot with no intention of actually drinking it. Nash knew vampires did not eat and drink human consumables. And he'd made the offer, not out of goodwill, but to see how far Drew would take it. To evaluate to his full satisfaction exactly where it was the two of them stood. The man was testing him to see if he'd come to terms with the other side of his true nature or not. And Nash was not one so easily fooled by the slight of hand. 

Drew swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the firelight glint off the crystal in prisms of rainbow color. Nash had no such reservations and swallowed his drink down in one gulp. His eyes never left Drew or the glass he held in his hand for one second. Drew resented the power play and raised his glass to his lips. The harshly sweet smell of the sour mash turned his stomach. But, he could not afford one moment's of weakness in the presence of the power alpha challenging him. One sip and he'd know for certain whether Tala had told him the truth or not. Ingesting anything but blood would make even the eldest of vampires desperately sick. It wouldn't kill him. But, the effects would be close enough to make him wish for death. 

Coolly, as if he'd been raised on the stuff, Drew tipped back the glass and poured the contents into his mouth swallowing them. The whiskey took away his breath and constricted his throat. He swallowed back his startled gasp of air and set the empty glass on the table between the two chairs with a solid smack of fine crystal against oak. His body shuddered in protest. His stomach burned with the heat of the whiskey. He grinned inwardly in triumph as Nash sat back in his chair and flicked his brown eyes to the floor. He also shivered at the realization that he'd done something no other vampire, with the exception of his brother, had ever done before. And the first thing to pass his lips in almost two hundred years had been the burning fire of whiskey. 

Drew felt the surge of his wolf's true power rippling through his mind. Nash reacted, the hairs on his arms standing at attention and the fire dancing in his eyes as if he'd felt it too. They could test one another all night. Every night. After all, Drew did have eternity. Instead, he reeled in his wolf's power and turned his attention to Nash. They could posture. Puff their chests. But, that wasn't what he'd come here to do. And he had the suspicion that Nash saw no further purpose in it than he did. 

Drew rather liked Nash. There were few who fluently spoke the ancient language. Nash did. And after so many years of no one to talk to in the tongue of their people except for his brother, the Shaman, and a few mispronounced and butchered sentences from the brothers. It was nice to have someone different to talk to. "You must forgive me, my friend. I've been neglectful of my duties." The words flowed from the tip of his tongue like cool water over smooth rock. His wolf calmed with the lyrical sound of his voice speaking in the ancient tongue. And Drew knew then, he was exactly where he belonged. Doing exactly what it was he was supposed to be doing. He sat by the fire with a brother warrior, his kin, watching the flames dance and the embers burn as he'd always dreamed. He was at long last home. 

Nash nodded in recognition of both the language and the man. There were so few fluent in the ancient tongue time forgot. The Great White Wolf was sitting beside him, so calm and so smooth in both mannerisms and speech. Triumphantly eying the empty glass sitting on the table, the man knew he'd passed the test. Oh, there was still plenty of vampire in the man. And Nash had seen Drew's reluctance to try a sip of the fine whiskey he'd poured from the crystal decanter. He'd probably taken him up on his hospitality in hopes of fooling Nash into thinking he'd actually drank the contents. Nash was too smart for that. There were precious few vampires who knew about their world. But, Nash knew plenty about theirs. 

There was plenty of the Prophet in Drew as well. Like most siblings, Drew probably didn't and wouldn't admit exactly how much like his brother he was. The two men might as well have been twins. No, they didn't look alike. But, they strongly resembled each other. And Drew did not have the Prophet's ethereal aura surrounding him. No, this was not a man with one foot in vision and one in reality. Drew was grounded, stoic, and living fully in the here and now. The similarities were more in the tone of voice, the manner in which they spoke and held their posture, and the casual way they wore their power. Glimmering and rippling in waves just beneath the surface, Drew's energy was purer and stronger than the Prophet's. Caressing Nash's skin with gentle strokes, not challenging, but adding to it. Undoubtedly, it would be a while before Drew came into his own. And there was much about the newness of his changed life that the man had yet to accept. But, there was hope for this man and for the pack as well, and maybe just a shard or two for Tala, his daughter.

He didn't need to rely on his wolf's instincts only a father's knowing to realize this man seated next to him was the cause for his daughter's angst. Drew was the man her wolf and heart recognized as soul mate. Nash rarely made decisions that impacted his daughter's personal life. Tactically, a mating between the Great White Wolf and Tala was the best any father could hope for. But, there was a complication. Grant's wolf and his heart had already claimed Tala as his soul mate. 

The man had been in love with her for decades. And he'd been very patient in waiting for her to come around and look upon him as he looked upon her. Wasn't going to happen. And that made Grant a potentially dangerous man, to the pack, to Tala, and to himself. There was nothing more unpredictable than a spurned wolf with a broken heart. Nash was sitting on a powder keg about to detonate. And he did not relish the thought of killing anyone. Not even Grant. Nash wanted his daughter's happiness though. And although he was not a powerful prophet, he could see it, sitting in the chair beside him.

Right now, there was no decision to be made. Destiny had already made it for Drew and Tala. And there was little short of locking her in her room for the rest of her long life that he could do to change it. He'd watch and he'd wait in the way of the wolf and see how things played out. Destiny was a bitch to override. But, destiny didn't account for freewill and the stubbornness of his daughter. 

Nash ran his fingers down the length of his silver-black braid in contemplation. He wasn't getting any younger. And while Grant had his designs on leadership of the pack, Nash had a few ideas of his own on who would take over in his stead. All he had to do was keep this current generation coming into power from mucking up the works. He was not an old man and he wasn't quite ready for the grave yet. But, when he was finally ready to cross the Great River he'd do it knowing the one responsible for sending him there was the right one to lead the pack. Luckily for him he had plenty of decades left to prepare her to take her rightful place. 

Nash contemplated Drew. The man was still too human and still too much a vampire for his tastes. And there was little use to share his visions for the future with a man who was only beginning to understand the dynamics of the position he'd inherited. Was Drew strong enough to lead? Yes. But, was he ready to become the leader this pack needed? Not quite yet. The man had plenty to learn. And the way Drew covertly flared his nostrils, searching the scents of the house for Tala's essence and casually flicked glances over his shoulder at the open door. Confirmed Nash's suspicions that the man had other things on his mind than the pack at the moment. And that was good. There was nothing like a little feminine persuasion to get a man's head out of his ass and on the right track.

Wrinkles formed in the corner of Nash's eyes as he smiled at the thought of the many, many knots his Tala would twist the man into. Poor wolf, he just didn't know exactly what he was in for. Casually, he waved off Drew's apology. "We don't feel neglected. We too have been busy settling into our new home. The weather has been a bit of an adjustment for our wolves. While it rains in the desert, it seems our wolves do not particularly like the wetter climate."

Drew bit back a chuckle. Midwestern weather, how well he understood their complaints. Made things interesting when a day could go from a pleasant sunny seventy degrees to blustery and cold in a matter of hours and a sudden rainstorm could pop up in a moment's notice. "Please join us in a celebration. We'll dance around the fire in honor of our goddess and of our new friendship. We'll hunt by moonlight and share the bounty of the feast."

"Did I hear the word feast?" The young girl's musical voice filled the study with the force of her aura behind it. Drew turned his head to watch as she walked across the carpet. Her physical mannerisms so much like Nash's in that long, graceful, stride of a powerful predator. She was tiny and so skinny with knobby knees and elbows jutting out like wings. The top of her head probably wouldn't even come to the middle of Drew's chest. Her limbs long and gangly caught in that awkward state between child and teenager. 

Even with the long black braids dancing across her shoulders with each step and the boyishness of her figure, it wasn't hard to see the beauty she'd someday soon grow up to become. Or the leader she might one day be. Power leaked from her aura, bathing Drew in the purity of its essence. And though he knew of exactly how pack hierarchy was established. And that someday she might challenge Nash in a fight to the death for his title. Nash didn't seem to mind the idea of it. Wolves were touchy feely people and Nash gathered her up in his arms for a tight, fatherly hug. He gave no indication that he was knowingly hugging his possible future killer. In fact, the gleam of hope in his eye gave Drew the impression that Nash had already fully accepted his fate. 

Nash had been in a number of battles. Light scars and some thicker dense ones tracked down his right cheek and lower under the collar of his shirt. His forearms, visible under the rolled up sleeves of a flannel shirt, were crisscrossed with similar healed marks of bitter fights and perhaps, even bitterer victories. His brown eyes were shrewd. But, they softened considerably as he playfully tugged on the girl's long braids. The man loved his family. And he loved this little girl enough to someday die for her to ensure the legacy of his pack. "This is my granddaughter, Marianne, or Mouse as we call her," Nash said introducing his granddaughter to him

"Who are you?" Marianne piqued curiously. She pulled out of her grandfather's arms and awkwardly tucked her hands into the pockets of her cutoff shorts. The house was unsettled and she'd picked up on the vibe and the scent of a familiar stranger coming from the study. She was too young to defend the pack in any way. Her wolf, much like her period, would happen when it happened. She was almost twelve and the journey to womanhood seemed like forever. Her grandfather would have automatically shooed any of the other kids out of the study with nothing more than a hard look and a wave of his hand. Not her though. She was his favorite. And he'd taken her under his wing to teach her the ways of a pack master. She refused to think about what that would someday mean. She would never ever kill her grandfather. She loved him too much. 

Drew had not had much experience around children in the last two hundred years or so. Even as a father, his duties to the tribe had kept him more removed from his family than he ever should have allowed. He grinned at Mouse's childlike innocuous curiosity and her directness so much like her grandfather's. And even more like his brother's. There was truth in the saying 'the nut doesn't fall far from the tree'. And in this little acorn staring at him unabashedly and unapologetically. It was far too apparent. 

"My name is Drew. I am...," Drew left off, searching for the right words. He didn't know how to explain his relation to the girl. He was what? A vampire? A wolf? The Great Father? The Great White Wolf? All the above? 

"You can speak the truth. We hold no secrets from our children. They know who they are and what they will become," Nash said with no small tinge of pride in his voice. Children were their future. They were cherished and cared for like the precious gems they truly were. They did not interact much with the outside world. It was far too dangerous a place. Humans would know the children were different. Wolf children were stronger, faster, more aggressive and highly cunning than human children of the same age. And as such, the teachers of the pack held the children to a much higher standard than that of human children. 

Drew raised a brow at the difference in their cultures. The children of human donors were generally kept in the dark about the truth of the world until such a time the parents saw fit to tell them. It was a dangerous practice. Robbie and Alex had almost lost their lives because their parents loved them too much and hadn't told them the truth about themselves and the world. The children were watched more carefully than they ever knew. The brothers did what they could to keep them safe. Sometimes though, it just wasn't enough. "I'm your great, great, great, ... too many greats' to list grandfather's brother. Your uncle, I suppose." 

"Oh." Marianne dipped her head in acknowledgment and quickly shifted her eyes away from his. It was bad manners to look a superior in the eye. And in her world it was asking for trouble. Her great, great, great, great, so on and so on, uncle confused her. He smelled of pack and of wolf. But, he wore his authority and power reluctantly. Almost as if he didn't believe the reality of whom he was. And that might be the case. Before today, Drew had been nothing more than whispered rumors amongst the pack. A shadow only a few had seen in person and no one but Aunt Tala and her Grandfather had ever met. His brother, the man she knew and loved as the Great White Wolf, spent time with each and every member of the pack. The hole the Prophet had left behind when he died was still in their hearts. And she suspected, as Drew's eyes ran over the photographs on the mantle, in his as well.