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The Complete Bloodling Serial: Episodes 1-5 Page 15
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"Clan Wilder," the shifter answered. It wasn't the Chief, but I could tell by the other shifter's voice that the speaker was the same mountain who had tried to intimidate me a few hours previously. Given the timing, Wilder and his entourage couldn't have made it all the way back to Haven yet, but I had a feeling they were much closer than even that math would suggest. No, Crazy Wilder would expect me to mull over his demand for a couple of hours and then contact him this afternoon, so he was likely cruising along back roads waiting for me to cave.
Not that he'd admit to lingering on my account. Instead, Wilder would likely stall for another half hour before bothering to pull up to our meeting space.
Assuming the bastard even accepted my call the first time around.
"Put me through to your boss," I requested, ready to be brushed off but figuring I'd start with at least the semblance of politeness. Okay, so my words sounded more like a command than a request, but alphas don't say "please."
And, sure enough, the mountain lied in my ear. "He's unavailable at the moment." The response was as infuriating as it was expected. Did Wilder really think we had time to play games when his wolf was nearly ready to break free of his human skin willy nilly? Did he relish making me sweat so much that he would put his pack in further danger just to delay the inevitable?
"Now." And that was a command.
I could hear the rustle of the phone changing hands, then Crazy Wilder was on the other end of the line. His mere presence made me stand up straighter, and Fred glanced back over his shoulder reflexively at the change in my odor. I could tell the oathbreaker half expected me to shift to wolf form and eat him up.
Wouldn't it be nice if my life was so simple?
"Have you made up your mind?" Chief Wilder asked without preamble.
"Yes," I replied simply. "We have to talk."
"So talk."
"In person," I clarified. Then, giving him a way to save face: "My magic ball says you had business in the big city and you're still no more than twenty minutes away. So meet me on top of Beech Mountain in half an hour and we'll talk."
Then I hung up and powered off the device. No reason to give Crazy Wilder any additional opportunity to sway me before we met in person.
Chapter 7
"I don't see why I have to come along," Fred panted as we left his fancy new car and started up the hillside toward the designated meeting spot. "I get it. You're afraid I'll cause dissension in your pack with my plain speaking. So I'll leave."
I spared the oathbreaker a pointed glance over my shoulder then sped up to walk a little faster. Yes, I was getting a sort of childish pleasure out of watching the shifter struggle along in my wake. And he could also use a workout for the sake of his heart.
But mostly I need some amusement before putting my life on the line.
Plus, I was too worried about the upcoming events to be nice. "Can it," I growled instead. "You talk a good talk, but we both know you're a con man out to see what you can skim out of the pack's coffers before you move on to the next unlucky bastards."
"So what are you gonna do to me? Tear me apart?" The oathbreaker's accent suddenly seemed much less polished, hints of his roots showing through as he became more agitated. "I'd heard you weren't that type of alpha."
"I'm not." The truth was, there was a purpose to dragging Fred along, and it wasn't just seeing the troublemaker sweat. The imminent demise of my own good odor made me feel a reluctant brotherhood with the con man, and I hoped watching the upcoming events unfold might change his world view at least a little.
Okay, it was a long shot. But I also didn't have time to thoroughly push Fred out of our territory before Wilder arrived. So the oathbreaker would just have to suck it up and tag along. And I'd have to get used to his griping in the meantime.
Fred continued complaining, but I tuned out the other shifter and focused on the scents and smells around me. There was no reason for Wilder to ambush us when he already had me over a barrel. But my opponent wasn't thinking entirely clearly at this point, so I wasn't surprised to smell both his bodyguard and driver in lupine form as I rounded a bend in the trail.
"Stay close," I ordered Fred curtly, hoping the oathbreaker wouldn't get himself killed through sheer stupidity. He grumbled, but sped up a little to dog my heels, clearly trusting me to protect him in a dicey situation despite the pain and suffering he'd caused within my pack.
So when two massive wolves sprang out of the trees, it was my body in their path, not Fred's. And when I rolled out another alpha compulsion—"Sit!"—three shifters ended up on the ground at my feet, two of them four-legged and Fred still unabashedly human.
Wilder, however, had yet to make an appearance.
"Was that really necessary?" I asked, walking away from the frozen lackeys and toward the source of my opponent's odor. As I did so, I realized that his scent was menacing but unsullied, as if the other pack leader had never broken an oath in his entire life.
The aroma gave me hope that my ploy would succeed. But I couldn't count on it.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
The alpha werewolf emerged from between a pair of trees that I felt certain had been uninhabited previously. Wilder's human feet were shod in hard-soled shoes, but they made no sound as they slid through the fallen leaves. His face appeared relaxed and cordial, but I glimpsed a hint of wolf fangs beneath the skin. And his eyes sparkled with madness.
Then he opened his human lips and emitted a lupine command. "Walk with me," he ordered. And without my permission, my legs moved to follow.
***
"Your lap dogs will get a cramp," I said when the alpha compulsion eased enough that I was able to find my tongue. It felt strange to obey another pack leader's commands against my will, almost as if I was a pimple-faced kid again, bowing down at my father's feet.
But my father was dead. And I had a feeling that if I struggled, I could easily break free of Wilder's compulsion. No need to push that point prematurely, though.
"Cocky, aren't you?" Wilder said, and I had a feeling he was replying to my thoughts, not to my words. "But far too tender-hearted to be a real alpha. Unfortunately, I couldn't find better."
He growled quietly to himself the same way a normal human might sigh. And despite my plan to let my opponent bask in his superiority, I pushed with my lupine senses and felt the bonds that held me splintering away. If the other shifter was crazy, then I needed to be ready to respond immediately rather than after a few seconds' delay.
I leapt to the side as he whirled to face me, and I half expected my opponent to turn wolf and attack. Instead, Wilder laughed, a hyena-like cackle that did nothing to dampen my anxiety.
"As I thought," he murmured. Then, louder: "Now see if you can command me to do your bidding."
Yeah, right. And next I'll go swimming with a crocodile, I thought, shaking my head in negation. Six years ago, I would have been thrilled at the excuse to pit my dominance against that of the strongest alpha in our region. But now I felt no need to initiate a battle I wasn't sure I could win.
"You're scared," he taunted.
"Sure," I responded glibly. What did I care what Wilder thought of me? All I wanted was to find a way out from under my debt without breaking my oath or harming my pack mates. The mournful cast to Chase's eyes when I'd taken my leave had haunted every step of this afternoon's journey so far, and I was bound and determined to see that angst transform into joy at my return. If it meant turning the other cheek while another alpha poked at my pride, then so be it.
"Hmm," Wilder mused. Then he waved his hand back in the direction from which we'd come. "Our audience is frozen out of sight and sound, so I'll have no reason to tear you apart for making me lose face. And I'm curious to see whether a young buck like you can best this old fart. Surely you're curious as well."
His explanation made sense, but the wheedling tone sounded off coming from such an overbearing alpha. Still, I was getting the impression we weren't going to deal with my
problem until I obeyed Wilder's request. So, without giving him any time to prepare, I snapped out a command.
"Stand on your head."
Wilder, apparently, was far less agile than some of my young pack mates. Because the result of my compulsion looked a lot more like a donkey hop than a handstand. Still, the other alpha strove to obey, even though his cheeks turned red at the effort of fighting my command and his eyes blazed hot with the indignity of the situation.
"Cease," I added when it appeared that Wilder would keep trying until he either broke a leg or actually managed to achieve reverse verticality. Then, leading him back in the direction from which we'd come, I asked, "Now are you ready to talk business?"
Chapter 8
As we reentered the site of our previous altercation, Fred's eyes met mine with pure relief. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead despite the cold day, but he'd given up on straining against his invisible bonds. Instead, his nostrils flared as he struggled to catch the first hint that the wolves at his back planned to charge.
Feeling sorry for the oathbreaker, I waved a release across all three shifters. The two wolves prepared to spring forward, but their eyes latched onto their alpha's first. And Wilder stilled them with the faintest shake of his head. "Leave us," he ordered.
Every single member of my own pack would have argued the point. Abandon their alpha to stand alone against a similarly powerful werewolf and another shifter? No way.
Fen would have rolled her eyes and told me to grow up. Chase would have placed a firm hand on my shoulder to prove he had my back. Tia would have scowled and then called up the hidden meanness that her lupine half so seldom shared with the world.
But Wilder's lackeys instead turned away without complaint and melted into the trees. And they weren't just biding their time so they could circle around and attack either. Instead, quick footfalls took Wilder's underlings further and further away from our meeting place, the simple obedience of their aromas fading away into the distance. Their boss had spoken, so his underlings were obeying with alacrity.
The situation was far too familiar. This was the type of alpha my father had been, too. The leader who was heeded without question, whose pack mates assumed he could gnaw his way free if he bothered to step into a trap. The one whose mere presence made females and males alike avert their eyes and bow down in immediate submission. The ultimate alpha.
And Chief Wilder was offering that same position to me on a silver platter. He'd ruled his pack with an iron fist for so long that it would be simple for his named heir to step into those steel-toed boots. Since my strength obviously surpassed his own, I would find it a piece of cake to hold onto the power being blithely tossed my way.
My father would be so proud.
The thought gave me the strength to do what needed to be done. I glanced to the side to ensure that Fred was paying attention to our conversation, then I took a step forward into Crazy Wilder's personal space...
...And broke my oath.
"Here's my answer to your question," I told the grizzled alpha. "I refuse to come to Haven as your heir and leave my pack. I won't obey your command."
***
It was one thing to smell the foul oathbreaking aroma emanating from another shifter. It was something else entirely to cringe inside my own skin as the black smoke encircled my head and invaded my mouth and nostrils.
I tried to stand tall, but instead found myself falling to my knees and retching up raw fish and rice. I don't think I'll ever eat sushi again, I thought, drowning in my own odor.
Still, I forced myself to breathe deeply until my stomach ceased roiling. And when I was able, I opened my eyes and peered up at my opponent.
Crazy Wilder lived up to his nickname. His anger at my refusal had turned his eyes into hard black coals that burned in their sockets and he seemed seconds away from turning wolf and tearing out my throat. So I hurried along the words that had caught on the vomit at the back of my throat.
"Watch carefully, Fred," I croaked out. Then, forcing weak muscles to obey me, I stood and stepped away from the pile of half-digested food on the ground. The smoky cloud around my body was so dense, though, that I couldn't even smell the change in aroma as I distanced myself from the waste. Instead, my head swam and stars danced in front of vision that was suddenly dim and undependable.
"I won't leave my pack," I repeated, clearing my throat and wishing I'd thought to bring along a bottle of water. Heck, I'd settle for a breath mint—anything to block the taste of vomit and the insidious scent of smoke from my attention.
"Why not?" Wilder demanded. "You're worthless to them now. And to me. After all the work I put into you...."
He turned away, hands clenched into fists and I coughed out my request before he could leave me there drowning in my own bad choices. "Wait."
Okay, so that was more of a command than a request too. So sue me.
The stiff rod of my opponent's back proved that he wasn't at all pleased to be ordered about with another shifter present. Still, Wilder's feet were frozen in place, so he couldn't resist swiveling around to peer at me over one shoulder.
I paced across the earth to face the grizzled shifter, sparing a single glance for the other oathbreaker whose head was cocked to one side curiously. "See, Fred, this is what you need to know about breaking oaths." My words were clearer now as my speech pushed the awful flavor back down my throat. The oathbreaking aroma, though, showed no sign of dissipating from the air.
Still, I took the time to explain for the sake of the shifter who had been a member of my pack for a few hours at least. Hopefully he'd get something out of an experience that I suspected would give me nightmares for years to come.
"Oathbreaking is in your own mind, not in the mind of the shifter to whom your word was given," I continued. "You told my pack that you had no choice but to break your oath, Fred. That you were saving an innocent, not doing wrong. And if that's the case, then you can clear your aroma just as I plan to clear mine."
Now I turned back to face the other pack leader and noted the hint of a smile curving up one side of the older man's lips. Hoping he wasn't a sore loser, I sucked in a lungful of oily remorse before speaking again.
"Chief Wilder," I addressed him formally, "you and I both know that I've broken no oath. Eight years ago, I swore to give you an unnamed favor at a time and place of your choosing. But I also told you that you could take your pound of flesh from me alone. That my pack would not be harmed by my debt."
Wilder opened his mouth and raised one hand as if to argue against this belated interpretation of my words, but I stilled him with a glance. No, I wasn't quoting myself verbatim, but that was the gist of my caveat and he and I both knew it.
"And if you'd asked me to take over your pack that day, I would've been forced to obey. You were right—I was a stupid puppy then and an alpha in name alone."
I paused and the faces of a dozen pack mates flashed before my eyes. Yes, I'd been only half an alpha when I stole Wade out of my brother's iron grip, a quarter of an alpha when Chase rescued me from my own lupine nature at a computer conference years ago, and a bare fraction of an alpha when Fen saved me from Alexis during the Winter Hunt.
Then I smiled as I finished. "But now I lead my pack as you lead yours. I'd sacrifice anything to keep the shifters and human beneath my care happy and healthy. And leaving them would harm my pack. It would mean you were taking my debt from them, not me. That's not what we agreed."
Wilder growled, and I saw the beard on his face grow a quarter inch in a second as the wolf inside fought to be released. "Semantics." The single word was as much as he could muster with his animal half so rampant, but he got his point across.
In response, I shrugged. "Maybe to you. But not to me."
And as I spoke, the black cloud lifted away from my head, spreading out around the three of us like a drop of ink splashing into a pond of clear water. For a moment, the poison was black and obvious, but then the smoky haze expanded and diluted u
ntil the scent of leaf mold and pine trees once more filled my nostrils. My oathbreaking aroma wasn't entirely absent, but it was so faint now that I suspected not even Chief Wilder could smell it on my skin.
"If you want to be free of your curse," I finished, speaking to Fred but looking at the other pack leader, "that's how it's done."
Chapter 9
I knew better than to think Fred would relinquish his foul aroma so readily. So I wasn't surprised when he instead got to his feet and fled down the trail, oily smoke following in his wake. Perhaps the oathbreaker would apologize to whomever he'd wronged and find closure, or perhaps he'd continue with his scheming con-man ways. It wasn't my concern now. I'd given the shifter a fishing pole; now it was on him whether or not he learned to feed his soul.
In the meantime, Wilder's shoulders had slumped and I could tell the other alpha was well and truly beaten. My father—or Wilder himself—would've taken the time to kick his opponent in the ass while he was down. But I instead offered the only consolation I had available.
"I won't leave my pack to take over yours," I told him. "But I'll do whatever I can to make your transition easier. I'll prop up your power if it needs propping and I'll stand for you at All-Pack."
"And if the wolf wins before I find another alpha to take my place?" Wilder growled. He clearly thought little of my offer, and I didn't blame him. It was too little too late.
"Then I'll tear out your throat myself," I promised. To a human, the words would have sounded ominous. But Wilder and I were both wolves and we knew the assurance was the greatest kindness I could offer.