I know I’m arm-twisting Aiden into revealing himself to my family. They’ll figure out that there’s something unusual about him, even if neither of us say anything about it.
“Was your boss okay with this? What about college?” It’s the least I can do to make sure he won’t lose his scholarship or his job.
“Mr Patel was really nice about it. When I phoned the college, they booked me off on compassionate leave. They’ll let my friends know, so hopefully somebody will take notes for me. How are you doing?” Aiden looks into my face. He’ll know how I’m feeling, but not why. He’ll be picking up on my guilt.
“How are you doing? I’m sorry. I am rather forcing you into something I don’t think you wanted to do. If you decide you don’t want to say anything, we’ll figure out a way to explain that avoids it.” Which might mean just telling my parents that it’s not something we’re ready to explain. My parents won’t like that, but they’ll accept it, I think.
Aid
I can sense Sarah’s anticipation as the car turns off the freeway onto a wide two-lane road. The scenery quickly grows wild, rough and bleak and windswept. There’s something very primal about the land here. It feels both exposed and secretive. The low-growing grass and scrub is a thin skin stretched over bone. Ragged clouds chase across a hazy blue sky, and the sun is pale and watery. Sarah opens the window, letting the chill air flood in, and beyond the bitterness of dry earth and the faint spice of grassland flowers I catch the scents of salt and rotten eggs.The snake of a single-track rail line edges towards the road then runs alongside it, sun glinting off the rails. Up ahead I see a small train station building sticking up out of a line of pale rock, like a single tooth left in a jawbone.“This is the border of the estate,” Sarah says as we draw level with the station. “It belongs to Blackmarsh, but it isn’t Blackmarsh itself.&
The tradition in the countryside says that front doors are only opened for weddings and funerals. The front door at Blackmarsh gets a little more use than that, but the chances are that if it’s been unlocked then it’s a special occasion of some kind. It’s nice to have my return treated like a cause for celebration, but Aiden is a little intimidated. What he doesn’t realise is that coming in through the front door means he won’t get to meet Tony yet. That could be a blessing. Tony is easily the hardest to make a good impression on.Aiden is clinging tightly enough to my hand that it’s almost painful, but I don’t have the heart to mention it. I’ll give him all the support that I can, unless it means getting my fingers broken. If he squeezes any harder I’ll have to say something. He keeps up beside me as I head for the steps. Timothy’s struggling with the door. The hinges always are a little sticky, and creak like a hor
I’ve been preparing myself to meet Sarah’s father. I haven’t been preparing myself to meet another werewolf. We recognise each other for what we are as soon as I step into the room. Sarah is pulling me along by my hand, but I manage to slip out of her fingers and come to a halt. The other werewolf is the only other person in the kitchen. He must be the Estate Manager, Baxter. He’s not young, but he’s well muscled and sturdy. His face is grizzled, his hair thick and threaded with silver, his beard streaked with white. Sarah would have mentioned it if the family already knew a werewolf. That means they don’t know what Baxter is. There’s a phrase I heard once. Mutually assured destruction. Baxter can’t tell them what I am without telling them what he is. I have the advantage of intending to tell them what I am anyway. All that runs through my mind swiftly. Sarah’s touch on my arm reminds me that I’m not here to be introduced to the Estate Manager. I turn to Tony
“That was remarkably sociable of Baxter,” Katie comments when Aiden and the Estate Manager are safely out of earshot. I think it may be just the opposite, and my earlier idle musing about Baxter may turn out to be completely on point. I’m getting concern from Aiden, but nothing that suggests he is in imminent danger. I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing.I also need to work out how much I can tell my parents without breaking my promise to Aiden. I wrap my hands around my empty mug, to give them something to do. “We can wait for Tim, but I think you might already have guessed what I’m going to suggest those dogs really were,” I begin.“Werewolves,” Tony says flatly, and he’s not convinced yet, I can tell from his expression and his tone.“I’ve seen enough to know they exist.” I fiddle with my mug, twisting it first one way then the other between my palms. “And I’ve
Thunder and Frost cover the ground at a smooth wolf-trot, keen eyes sweeping the landscape, ears picking up every little sound. The scents of the intruders are fixed in their minds now. Eight wolves, five males and three females, all young adults in good health. The trail is strong enough to last for days, although there is water on the reserve that may weaken it in places.Now we are patrolling Blackmarsh land, Baxter and I observing through the eyes of our wolves. To the east runs the high stone wall that I saw from the car. To the north, bordering the bleak expanse of the nature reserve, a boundary fence is stretched between sturdy posts, high enough to prevent a deer’s leap but not a werewolf’s bound. The land staggers westwards in broken strides, the marsh scrabbling itself in among jagged rock and tufted grasses until it stretches unbroken in a rolling, fetid, lush expanse of greens and blacks and glittering water. Lines of white poles have been driven into
Everyone at Blackmarsh is expected to work, almost from the moment they can toddle, and the tasks frequently involve horses in some way. I am glad of the physical activity now. It helps to keep me from fretting over Aiden. There is plenty to do, and I am hot, sweaty and stinking of horses by the time I trail back up the drive behind Timothy. The two mares he is leading are behaving perfectly for him. My two are prancing around at the end of their lead ropes like a couple of lunatics. The hooves echo off the arches of the gate tower as we pass through into the yard, sending my two mares into even more bodily contortions and flurries of exaggerated snorting. Timothy ignores the circus show the three of us are putting on behind him and leads the way across the yard to the boxes at the far end. The door to the tack room opens just as he is about to pass it, Tony making his slow way out, leaning heavily on his stick. Aiden steps out behind Tony, having been waiting patien
It surprises me how quickly the kids seem to accept what I am saying. It doesn’t take them long to start wondering what my wolf form looks like. The adults are less trusting, but Sarah supports me. We work the kids' curiosity into the plan for the next day. I will travel in my wolf form. Sarah’s parents are reluctant until they understand that Changing means stripping first.Straight after breakfast we begin. Everyone is starting together from the house, the humans riding the horses that we know are not scared of me. Baxter and I pass a simple change of clothes each to Tim, then Shift inside one of the empty stables and rejoin the group. The kids promptly jump straight back off their horses and, before the adults can intervene, run over to pet the wolves.I will have to tell them that it’s a really bad idea to try petting wolves. Maybe some time when they haven’t got their hands all over Frost, who has a soft spot for pups and is lapping up the
Aiden and I have not explained our Bond to my parents, and so I am trying not to make it obvious that my mind is very much elsewhere. It should not be so very surprising if I am distracted. My brother and my boyfriend are headed into probable danger, while I am instead riding back to safety. It is more than that, however. I am holding on to Aiden’s presence with everything that I can, following his path within my mind, reaching out to pick up any sign that he is scared, or hurt, or… worse.This is the first time I have consciously tried to use the connection that Aiden and I now share. I have been aware of it since we first made that link, I have known what it was telling me, but now I am focussing on it. It is the difference between the musical soundtrack of a film I am watching, and being in the front row at a music concert. He is getting steadily further away, but it is hard to judge distance, and I, of course, am also moving. Only once the rest of us have rea
*** Some Time Later...*** “/Aiden? Can you hear me? Aiden? Please?/” “/Huh? Who? Imogen? That you?/” I really wasn't expecting to hear from my sister. Not this way. A text, sure. I’ve been bad at texting her, despite my promises. A message from her complaining about it wouldn’t surprise me. “/Aiden, thank the Goddess!/” Is she crying? My little sister? “/Imogen, what’s wrong
Everything is downhill now. Goldhawk’s mission is over pretty much as soon as they arrive. Everything else for them is just meeting people, and that doesn’t need much organisation. It’ll happen, with Badger’s Den giving them somewhere to stay for the night. The two new Mates are going to want the visit to go on longer, but Mark will need to get back. Either Paul will stay behind, or Caroline will visit London, probably. I hope it forces Ian into doing something. Join, Challenge, I don’t care as long as it becomes his job to keep the kids out of trouble until they’re a couple of years older. I finally get a bit of time without someone wanting me to do something,or decide something, or explain something. I prop myself against the wall of the building, and stuff my hands in my pockets. There’s a papery crinkle. I pull out the folded sheet, and remember why I put
“Never rains but pours,” I sigh, linking my arm through Aiden and kissing his cheek with sympathy. “Or is it no rest for the wicked? My poor sweet Mate, pour yourself onto the quadbike, Reese can drive you to meet them, and I’ll come on one of the horses. Timothy’s perfectly capable of seeing our unwanted guests off, we can leave Shelley, Mary and Tom with him. Baxter too, unless he’s already seen more of Black than he wants to.”Aiden leans into me. I can fee him collecting himself before he speaks. “Goldhawk are here to talk to Badger’s Den anyway. I’ll talk to Caroline, or that other one, the one they had as spokesman. Let them know to expect guests and see if they can put the visitors up somewhere.”I elect myself to update Timothy and put him in charge of things in the village, and to give T
“Fly?” I swap a puzzled look with Sarah. “That’s not one I know about. Command any werewolf, speak to any werewolf like a Pack link. And immunity to silver. Sort of. Still hurts like a… still hurts, but it’ll heal up as fast as any other wound, won’t knock me out. Been like that since forever.”Ian harrumphs. First time I’ve heard someone actually do that. “How long is forever?”“Few thousand years at least. Far back as I can remember any lives. Not that I’ve remembered all of them, there's way too many.”“That’s not a problem most werewolves have,” Ian says quietly, frowning. “What’s your… plan? Your intentions. Your Majesty.”I can feel my sho
The earth is cool under my butocks and Aiden is a furnace above me. I’m pinned on the ground with my jeans around my ankles and I can’t quite remember how I got there. Rough bark tugs at my hair and prints itself into the back of my wrists. Urgent, demanding hands ruck my shirt and bra up and free my breasts.“Please. I need you.” Aiden’s voice is soft and pleading. His hands, his body, they are anything but. They don’t plead. They demand, they take. One hand tangles with my hair and wrists, yanking stray hairs, splitting fragments of bark from the tree bole beneath and behind us. The tang of sap fights against the musk of sweat and desire. Aiden’s hips thrust between my legs and my back scrapes against the dirt and leaves and brown pine needles beneath us.He’s inside me already, driving hard and fast. His sweat
An angry opponent makes mistakes.That’s what my father and Caleb never understood. Anger is a weapon to their thinking, not a liability. Black is cast from the same mould. I’ve wound him up by staying calm, by being polite, and most of all by humiliating him, and he can’t see clearly through the red mist of fury. He’s three hundred pounds of muscle and rage, as unstoppable, dangerous and terrifying as a runaway locomotive, charging down on me. His free hand is out with claws ready, blocking any escape. Blinding sunlight flashes from the silver of his blade as it sweeps down.Now, Frost whispers, lending me his speed. I slip beneath Black’s raised elbow, drawing a line of fire across his exposed stomach with my sword. I spin and dance backwards as Black skids and stumbles before he crosses the outside edge of the duelling square. &
Black’s arrogance wins out over any caution he might have. He signals to one of the werewolves with him, announcing his Second.“What’s he playing at?” Baxter mutters when he realises that Aiden isn’t just buying time with Black’s Challenge, but is actively looking to fight that way.Baxter isn’t Pack, not yet, not officially. I doubt I can speak to him with the Pack link. It’s Aiden himself who can do that. I don’t even want to risk whispering. Werewolves have good hearing. I nudge his arm, to get his attention, and take my phone out.Aiden is considering Baxter as a Packmate. Blackmarsh trusts him. I don’t think Aiden will mind. “immune 2 silver” I type. “knows sword”. I turn the screen so Baxter can see it but, hopefully, nobody e
Nothing’s ever simple. Now I’ve got Caroline to look after. It’s irresponsible to bring her along, but it’d be worse telling her to stay out of it and expecting her to obey. There’s Alphas that nobody would dare disobey. My father, for example. I’m not him. “/Am I a bad Alpha?/” I make sure it’s just my Pack hearing that. The Peace Seekers. They’re not the right people to ask though. None of them are werewolves. “/You think we’d let you stick around if you were, boss?/” Sarah reaches over to give my hand a squeeze. “/If this is about Caroline, you said it yourself, if you tried sending her away
I’ve never really watched war films. I’ve never really been that interested. It feels as if I’m in one now, although I have no idea how accurate that thought is. We’ve crossed the nature reserve as if it’s enemy territory, constantly on the alert even though we’re keeping to the public paths, so we’re not, technically, on Badger’s Den territory. “If we’re talking technicalities, that would be Aiden’s territory anyway,” Reese points out when I mention it. We see neither hide nor hair of the Pack that claims the surrounding land, and veer out of the reserve into farmland where we are coming up on the small coastal village where Baxter says he’s being held. It looks like one of those lost-in-time places where cosy TV murders are set, except half the houses are holiday cottages now and empty for most of the year. It’s ever so slightly spooky, riding past bl