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Harper (Destined for the Alpha Book 1) Page 11
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“What are you talking about? Harper, are you seriously suggesting we start a civil war within this pack? This amazing, beautifully structured pack that we came to study?”
Harper stood and pulled up her pants. “Studying this pack would be the highlight of my career and could change the world, but I will mow down every one of these assholes that comes between me and one of my friends. Jo, that could have been you over there, if West hadn't asked for you to go to him.”
Jo put her hands on her cheeks. “He asked for me?”
Seriously, was she the only one to ever notice anything?
“Duh. Why do you think he went ahead of us last night and got all whispery in Shan's ear? Come on, it's obvious he has a thing for you.” She put her hands on Jo's shoulders. “Now let's take that thing and exploit it.”
“What I am I supposed to do? What do you want me to seduce him? I can't do that sort of thing. You're actually good at seducing people. Why don't we just skip the whole turning-the-pack-against-itself idea and you go straight for the big guy. Shan can fix all of this and West says he likes you, so maybe—”
“West says he likes me? When did he say that?”
“I guess, it was more implied and he didn't say anything to me directly. Last night, he mentioned to the others that you were staying in Shan's den and everyone seemed surprised. Apparently he likes to keep a healthy distance between himself and human women.”
From that, Harper picked up on two things. One was the he almost certainly did not have a mate. Two was that he didn't want one.
“I can try talking to him,” Harper relented. “I can't promise I'll even be alone with him again, though. Give me a night, and if I'm not getting anywhere, we'll reevaluate. We have to put ourselves in Ian's shoes.”
“I don't think Ian would want either of us getting hurt to rescue him. You know how much that would kill him.”
In this, Jo was right. Harper resolved herself to trying to figure out a way to get him free without stirring up conflict in the process. Trouble was, she rarely had to stick around for the aftermath of her schemes, and wasn't accustomed to planning for fallout.
“Are you okay?” Jo had lifted up Harper’s bloodied hand and was examining it, her brown eyes wide with concern. “Did he hurt you?”
Harper stuffed the hand back into her pocket. “Shan? No. He was...not what I expected, but he wasn't cruel. Know anywhere I can wash up?”
“There's a stream nearby. I washed my face there last night.”
Jo took her by the arm and led her through the forest. From the corner of her eye, she examined Harper. Harper didn't comment. Jo could be oddly intuitive sometimes, but Harper gave very little away when she put some effort into masking her emotions.
“So, Shan was nice, then? Was he as smart as they say?”
It was a leading question, but Harper allowed it, mainly because she was eager to talk about the alpha.
“It wasn't just that. He knows things. Things you wouldn't expect any shifter, let alone one like him to know.”
“What sorts of things?”
“He took my master's thesis and turned it inside out. He completely countered it. I mean, I could have countered him right back if I hadn't been so exhausted, but he made some halfway decent points about the civil rights movement.”
“Really?” she breathed. “What were they? Did you write them down?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “While I'm getting Ian back, you want me to ask Shan if he can write your thesis paper, too?”
Harper wondered if he could. How deep did his education go?
“Of course not,” Jo said, eye twitching with the lie. “So, where did the blood come from? I know you're not on your period, our cycles have been synced for like five years.”
“Bad dream. Bit the inside of my mouth.”
Jo brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, right, your pot. Are you okay? Was it very bad?”
“Did you not hear the part where I bit the inside of my mouth?”
“Sorry. You know, I was sure that they were gone. I mean, you haven't had an episode in over two years.”
That you know of.
They reached the stream. It was narrow and winding, and disappeared behind an eroded tree. As Harper crouched to put her hands in the water, a school of minnows darted away. She plunged her hand into the cold water and began to scrub. Distantly, she heard Jo offering weak suggestions on how to deal with her nightmares.
Her hand was stained pink, though it could have been from the cold. Using her reflection as a guide, she reached up and undid her bun, letting her hair fall down to frame her face.
Naughty Nautical had been the name of the shade. Harper had dyed it herself a week after bleaching it. It had taken two boxes, and she still hadn't quite gotten the tips, though it ended up making an interesting cascade of blue into blueish blonde. She'd been dying her hair for years, but for once it looked out of place and she yearned to see her natural color.
It was the makeup, she decided. Since high school, the first thing she'd done after waking was apply a liberal amount of makeup to her face. She was already good-looking, so the makeup just accentuated what was already there, or at least, that's what she'd thought. Looking now at her mascara-less lashes, pallid cheeks, and weary eyes, she seemed like a stranger.
“Have you ever looked at your reflection, and for a second, you don't know who you are anymore?”
Jo, who'd been cut-off mid-sentence, leaned over to glance at Harper's reflection.
“Yeah, once. That time you gave me Molly.”
Harper splashed water up at her, getting more on herself than Jo. “I didn't give you Molly. I handed it to you. There's a huge difference.”
“My mistake. You handed me the Molly and said, 'Jo, don't be such a pussy, just take it.'”
“I would never use the word 'pussy' unironically. Your story is full of holes, give it up!”
Actually, she'd called Jo a “stupid lame-o.”
“Great, now you're lawyering me, too?”
They started to laugh, but their amusement died down almost at once. It didn't feel right laughing without Ian.
“We'll get him back,” Harper said. “I promise. No matter what.”
Chapter 6
Gareth had been one of the founding members of Shan's pack, a mere child when they'd struck out on their own, Kalla strapped to Shan's back. It had been over twenty years since the first time Gareth had seen Shan's wolf form, but he still shared the same look of trepidation that the other pack mates had when they saw him.
In his wolf form, Shan's consciousness floated somewhere in the ether. For a common shifter, being able to control their wolf was a crucial part of their development. For Shan's kind, being able to cede control was a necessary part of survival, and one that required trust.
He didn't remember the first time he'd shifted, at least, not with any clarity. It was one of his few memories that was fragmented and muddled. There had been too much pain and confusion.
The second time, however, he remembered clearly. The sensation of being separate from his body had been jarring. He had no control over what the wolf did, but knew that he would ultimately be responsible for its actions. This was particularly terrifying because he could sense that the wolf understood very little about the world around it. Like a newborn colt, it had staggered around the forest on its thin legs, sniffing, licking, and trying to eat everything. It knew not to run headlong off a cliff, but it found water particularly fascinating, and he might have drowned several times over, had his father not been there to pluck him from the lake.
Had his parents not been there to guide him, he would still be trying to seize control, even after all these years. His wolf had grown, not just in size, but in wisdom. He often surprised Shan with his calculations, clearing jumps Shan would have never thought to make and easily striking down groups of enemies Shan might have been hesitant to take on his own.
The only time Shan had to assert himself was for the sh
ift. The wolf ceded easily to him, lying mostly dormant until the next time he was called upon.
As Shan retook his pack form, his pelt came around him, swathing him in a hot, second skin.
The trepidation had already fled from Gareth as Shan approached, but Eko still drummed her fingers on her thigh, the muscle in her throat working as she swallowed.
“Where is West?” Shan asked.
Eko's spine straightened. “Last I saw, he was still fawning over his new pet.”
Like most females of her kind, Eko held a marginal antipathy for human females, and it was evident in her tone.
She went on, “If he mates with her, I want Viper to take his place as beta. My brother talks too much.”
Shan didn't bother advising her on the nature of Joana's inclusion in the pack. She might yet decide to stay, should West persuade her to do so. It would require further vetting on Shan's part, but that could come later.
“Cade would be more suited for the role,” Shan said. “He can actually pass as a human. Besides, Viper would frighten our human allies.”
Eko made a pensive sound. “I think Cade already has his sights set on the other human.”
She watched him carefully for a reaction. She wanted to know if Shan would be bothered by her brother's attempts to court Harper. Shan wouldn't dignify her with a reaction.
“How is your arm?” he asked Gareth. He asked out of politeness, knowing he would get a surly response along the lines of it being fine, the wound being minor, and soon healed.
“It's fine,” Gareth said. “Gwen says it was a clean break. I'll be running again within a fortnight, at most.”
“We missed you on the morning hunt,” Eko said.
“How was it?” Shan asked.
Her lips formed a pout. “Disappointing. We had to supplement with our stores. We have another two night here, maybe three. Unless we can hunt further west, that is.”
“Let's not antagonize the natives,” Shan said. “Speaking of which, I trust nothing eventful happened on your trip, Gareth?”
It was a measure of how unusual the night had been, that Shan had not already received a full report on the scouting expedition.
“We made contact with the leadership in Tye. A sheriff who holds sway with the local humans. He claims the southern pack has already made a mate alliance with his town.”
Interesting.
In the 90s, an economic boom had led to the formation of hundreds of small towns along the borders of what had formerly been wolf territories. For five years, the blue collar workers—mostly loggers and miners—had the full might of the United States government behind them. Any time a pack tried to contest the invading humans, they'd find themselves up against rifles, grenades, and bombs. Those shifters who had survived the scourge had been pushed westward.
Having so many packs clustered deep in the mountains created a pressure cooker of disputes for land and the scant resources that accompanied it. After three years, tensions were at the brink of eruption, with every major pack at odds. For fear of being caught in the crosshairs, a handful of the smaller packs had ventured outward, back towards human territory.
They had expected to find themselves at the mercy of humans, but had instead found impoverished towns, forgotten by their government and left largely unprotected. A war had broken out overseas, and the government had redirected its resources to faraway continents, leaving the fringe towns now at the mercy of the wolves. Towns that couldn't afford private mercenaries would often strike deals with local packs, forming nonaggression and protection pacts, or mate alliances, which were a hybridization of the two. The town would offer up one of their females to be the mate of an alpha, and in exchange, the alpha and his pack would agree not to attack the town, and to protect it from other packs that might.
“Is it an amicable arrangement?” Shan asked, wanting to know if the female had gone to the pack of her own volition. All too often, they didn't.
“As far as we were able to tell,” Gareth said.
“The sheriff was not very forthright,” West said, making his arrival on the bluff. “But I think we can infer that the alpha is a good diplomat.”
Shan wouldn't have been able to guess, from all of the warmongering the pack had done in the past few years.
Learning about new packs was always a delicate business. Smaller packs were the easiest. They could simply approach their borders and ask for an invitation. Granted, they were allowed in out of fear, but a healthy dose of fear tended to make them more pliable.
Larger packs, like this one, could be more complicated. On his own, Shan could exterminate a large pack like a nest of rats. Of course, his aim was not to exterminate these wolves, not all of them, anyway. Diplomacy was always the first and most necessary step. The trouble with the large packs was that they were so accustomed to being at the top of the food chain that they were not accustomed to taking summons from rival packs. Moreover, they didn't perceive his roaming band of a hundred shifters to be a threat. While Shan might have had the numbers to take their packs on neutral turf, rooting a large pack from its home territory, from its den, was nearly impossible, no matter how many warriors he brought.
During his early years, when he'd shifted from conquest to diplomacy, he'd learned that he couldn't take his wolf form in order to display his power. It tended to be a conversational non-starter, and most wolves would flee and later outright refuse to meet with him.
This pack had been exceptionally difficult to bring to the table. In a few short years, its members had eaten up much of the central reservation, and Shan was constantly having to revise his map to accommodate its latest conquests. Its hunting range now exceeded that of Shan's own, though the pack didn't put the land to good use. It had multiple dens throughout the territory, and moved seasonally to follow the herds.
Shan had been content to leave the pack alone for the first few years. With fifty-seven packs and twenty-three human towns allied with him, his own massive pack, and his recent venture to establish trade routes between them all, Shan couldn't be bothered to deal with the upstart pack. He'd made annual efforts to get the attention of its alpha, but to no avail.
Now, he could no longer ignore the pack. It had far more territory than it needed, as evidenced by the five packs it had driven out or defeated in claiming its land. Now, it was pressing upon the borders of a small farming pack that had been one of Shan's earliest alliances.
“We can't let another year pass without addressing this,” Shan said. “It's only a matter of time before they mow Wisteria's pack down like the rest.”
West said, “I can try sending scouts deeper into the territory, but it would be a risk, especially if the alpha has a mate now.”
Shan rubbed his jaw. “Send another group to the border. If we can't establish contact, then I think it's time we start taking more aggressive measures.”
The sky teased rain all day, the dark clouds never giving way to warmth or water. Although they mostly sat around and Ian's absence still weighed heavily on Harper, the day passed with startling speed.
The pack really was fascinating.
While Shan had been stingy on the details of his pack, West had shown less discretion. He'd been perhaps too forthright with Jo, and over the course of several hours, the two of them had pieced together all of what they'd learned to form a clear picture of Shan's pack.
It had no name. Within its territory were several distinct regions, and each region had a name, like towns within a county. Some of them even had their own cultures and dialects, which was to be expected, given that there were by West's estimation, four thousand members within the pack.
Nearly the entire pack resided within Shan's territory and were currently preparing for the autumn harvest. The disparities in age and gender that Harper had noticed in the wolves were due to the fact that only Shan's most capable wolves came with him on circuits, which were annual border walks. Over the course of three to four months, the wolves would travel between the various
territories Shan had allied with, collecting tithes and managing grievances. More males joined not because they were more capable, but because it wasn't uncommon for human females to join their ranks during the circuits, and the young males were essentially hoping to have dibs on a mate.
For the packs that lived near fringe towns, tithes often came in the form of cold, hard, American cash. For more rural packs, Shan was paid in the form of precious metals, stones, food—when abundant, or the seasonal lending of a skilled craftsperson. In exchange for the tithes, Shan's growers would help to troubleshoot agricultural problems, while his warriors and scouts could help deal with pesky neighbors.
The pack was now reaching the end of its circuit and would be returning home after a particularly lengthy trip, which was nearing five months. The wolves were all eager to return to their friends and families, where they would be greeted with a lavish homecoming and could spend the winter resting.
The Steppes was their most densely populated colony. It was an entire mountain of terraced farmland, dotted with the homes of its caretakers. While most of the mountain's inhabitants lived in the cave system, upwards of sixty males lived in houses with their mates and pups.
That was by and away the most fascinating thing Harper had learned. In a typical pack, only the alpha took a mate. There were many genetic factors that went into this, but it was also an economical decision. If all fertile males within a pack could take a mate, then there would be an abundance of pups to provide for. In a pack of a dozen or so wolves, it made more sense for a single male to breed, and for the other adults to aid in rearing his offspring. The system worked. Shifter pups, at least those in the few packs that had been studied, had an infant mortality rate comparable to that of the Netherlands.
There were hundreds of pups in Shan's pack, and not one of them was his. His males were free to take a mate, though not without his direct approval. His conditions were both that the male was capable enough to provide for a family and that he'd properly courted and been accepted by the female he wanted to mate.