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Authors: Heather Long

Desert Wolf (11 page)

BOOK: Desert Wolf
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“Sometimes. It depends on what their family member did. Rarely will a head of the family come to me for anything but mercy, but they may ask for the right to intercede and punish to save the wolf’s life.” He shrugged. “Most of the time it’s a useless exercise and they know it. My laws are very explicit. If they can’t follow them, they don’t need to be here.”

Unyielding was the word that came to mind. “There is no room for mercy or understanding in such a stance.”

“The world doesn’t have a lot of mercy in it, Sovvan.” Something in how he framed her name sent a shiver through her. “Sutter Butte has even less. When the original wolves came here and founded a pack, they lacked the resource richness of the packs back east. Look around you. Even the act of finding water required arduous labor, not to mention hunting for food and game in a sparse region. Rules had to be strict, and the strong had no time to carry the weak. That’s why they had to band together. A group can carry a weak member because they have enough labor to split and compensate. But every burden on the pack is one more threat to it.”

“What happens to the old? Our elders provide us with wisdom and insight. They can see the patterns younger wolves miss because they may have seen it before. What about children? They are by their nature weaker and in need of more care.” Was it really that bad? “And how can you cling to a pattern of needing to conserve resources for the strong when you’re standing in the middle of a swimming pool?” Outrage scored her.

“I don’t want to cling to the old ways,” he said, before swimming over to the side and leaning against the stone near her. “Before you get your panties in a bunch, remember that’s why you’re here.”

The answer mollified her, but only just. “My panties are hardly in a bunch.” Then because she couldn’t help it, she stuck her tongue at him.

Wry amusement creased the corners of his eyes. He had a really nice smile, much nicer than his grim, gruesome glare. “Could have fooled me.”

“We’re digressing. We’re not here to discuss my panties, bunched or otherwise. What about children and the elderly?”

“Not a lot of senior wolves are in my pack, but there are a handful and, yes, we do care for them. You’ll find that Summit’s population is mostly children, seniors, young parents or mated pairs.”

“You distinguish between the two?” A sick feeling twisted in her stomach.

“Yes, because not all the mothers are mated. Some took lovers to protect themselves, but when they found they were pregnant, they had nowhere else to go. Others lost their mates. Either way, no child is an orphan in Sutter Butte. I bring them here. We have the resources to house them, educate them and take care of them.”

A piece of her heart melted. Maybe he was harder, fiercer, and more brutal than other Alphas, but what he just said? What he did for the children? How a person cared for the least of them spoke volumes about character. “That’s what happens now, but it didn’t always?” A guess. A suspicion.

“No, not always.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You wanted to know about the Reaping.”

She nodded. The light danced in ripples over him cast by the reflection of the sun on the pool water.

“What do you know about the Civil War?”

“What everyone knows. The war fought between the states over issues of slavery, states’ rights and everything in between. It was one of the bloodiest conflicts ever fought on American soil.”

“And the pack wars of 1850 to 1865?”

“Similar causes to the Civil War, packs took sides with the Union or the Confederacy. Delta Crescent actually sided with the Confederacy, but only so much as to protect our territory from Northern Aggression.”

He chuckled, and Sovvan frowned. The subject was hardly one for humor. “That’s a very…black and white perspective on the pack wars. They had more to do with advantage. The Yukon pack has always been an isolationist pack. Land and distance keep them isolated, and they could care less what we do down here, so long as we don’t bring it to them. Hudson River and Willow Bend, however, are two very large packs that used to be one.”

“What?” She frowned. “Do they even know that?” Nothing in the history of the packs she knew indicated the subject.

“After a hundred years or so, no one cares. But once upon a time there was only one pack. A series of battles during the 1850s and escalating tensions splintered groups. The Enforcers didn’t intervene because they protect pack, then it became packs. Long story short, sweetheart, by the time the Civil War broke out, Willow Bend and Hudson River were at an impasse with each other. To expand, they’d have to go farther west for Willow Bend into wild untamed land and run the risk of fighting the Yukon or come south, which was the only choice for Hudson River. When the conflicts broke out, their wolves joined the army like we have for every other major conflict and they went to see what they could get.”

Fascinated despite herself, she leaned toward him. “I know there were several skirmishes between our Hounds and their Hunters who came down, but never out and out conflict. Most of the time they fought to first blood, though….death happens when you fight.”

“Exactly. Skirmishes from time to time were acceptable. Every Alpha knows their younger adults and juveniles need to a chance to sow their oats, as it were. Sometimes fighting is the only way to establish strength and to learn about your weaknesses. If a pack is too large to support, it’s also a good way to cull out the troublemakers. Send them off a
mission
to claim new land, and let the other pack kill them. It’s kind of a win-win for everyone.”

A horrifying one, and despite her disgust for the whole idea, she tried to stay on target.

Another chuckle, and Cassius pushed away from the wall. How he stayed completely submerged in the icy water, she wasn’t sure. Her feet were half-numb, but at least the stones kept the rest of her warm. “Don’t worry, little wolf. While I can appreciate the rationale, you’re allowed to dislike it.”

“Thank you.” She wrinkled her nose, then propped her chin on her hand with her elbow against her knee. “So, what does all of this have to do with the Reaping?”

“What it has to do with is fifteen years of sustained conflict in one way or another between three packs. It cooled, then flared, cooled, then flared, and the war took its toll on all of them. I don’t have to tell you the injuries Delta Crescent took during the Northern Armies sweeps though the south.”

No, he didn’t. Many pack mates lost their lives defending their homes and their families. More had been orphaned. They had, however, come out the other side stronger. The issue of race had never been one to trouble the pack because they were all wolves, but they understood the problems it created for others. Ultimately, Delta Crescent rose and reclaimed much of its lost land. They were formidable today, and none had tried to invade or take from them since.

“Willow Bend and Hudson River took their lumps, too. They’d buried a lot of their wolves, and lost more to going rogue or Lone because they didn’t fit at home anymore. Imagine roaming for years, more than a decade for some, fighting against other wolves constantly, keeping yourself secret and fighting battle after bloody battle, only to return home empty-handed with only your life and no great territorial increases or accolades to packs where the battles never really touched them? To land unscorched or unsullied by the blood of the fallen?”

He painted such an eerie picture. Drawing her legs from the water, she scooted back and let her feet warm on the stone.

“Hard to imagine, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no. I remember, after the ascension battles, it was uneasy for a time.” Some of the Hounds didn’t settle right back into routines. Some, like Rayne Barrows, left altogether and he’d fought on Serafina’s side, eliminating some competition for her before he bowed out.

“Fair. These wolves were restless and hungry for change, but they wouldn’t get it at home. Some went Lone Wolf, and others found old comrades and friends they’d fought with before—odd to think how some of these disparate wolves from all three packs had more in common with each other than their own packs.”

“These connections…they made them as Lone Wolves?”

“They’d already made them during the war, they just revisited them after leaving their packs. Wolves need other wolves. They gravitated together. Some went west, some disappeared into Canada, and more headed as far south as Texas, then migrated to here.”

He made a circular motion with his right hand.

“This…Summit is Sutter Butte?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Yes. The Alphas weren’t happy when they received word of these rogue wolves banding together to survive and they sent the Enforcers after them. The laws were the laws. But the founders…they came here. One wolf stood and said they didn’t have to go back. They didn’t have to obey the laws of the wolves who’d sent them into bloody battle after battle, then rewarded them with nothing when they came home.” Pride filtered through every word. “So, he led them deep into the desert until they reached this escarpment and the Colorado plateau. They ventured until they found the perfect place to defend. Now, remember, nearly every wolf who’d come together had fought in some aspect in the war. They were all Hunters or Hounds or soldiers of a type. Their mates were with them or women they’d turned who were on their side. They had every reason to fight back, so when the Enforcers came for them…”

“It was a bloody battle, but they killed them all.”

“All save one.” Cassius neared her again, rising to leave the water. The sun glistened on the droplets clinging to his skin. “The last Enforcer they left alive to send word back to the other packs. Their request was simple—leave us alone. Let us have our peace. Let us have our families. Let us have what we fought for, for ten years.”

Sadness and sympathy for those long forgotten wolves squeezed her heart. It was easy to dismiss them for the brutality in the story, but the way Cassius told it, she felt for them. They had been at war for years. Then a war at home. Finally, they’d made a change, one that involved leaving everything they knew.

“But they didn’t leave you alone.” She whispered the words, the gravity of the situation weighing against her. “Four years later, they came back.”

“Yes.” His expression grew distant, even his gaze. To her knowledge, Cassius hadn’t been there, but the way he seemed to retreat suggested a real memory. “My grandmother told me the story about that day.”

Ice slid through her veins.

“For four years, those wolves who’d banded together worked hard. They built the town below. Spread out toward the valleys—there’s one about ten miles that way.” He pointed to the north. “It’s green and full of life. Some went there to farm. They’d transport their goods back to the town, but they liked living out there. It was peaceful and everyone had a say. The Alpha wasn’t so much in charge as he became their military commander. He was the most experienced fighter. In everything else, they all had equal say.”

A ghost of smile illuminated his face. Sovvan didn’t want to breathe, because she didn’t want to disturb the moment.

“It was kind of perfect. They had wolves who made music, some who made pottery, others who were good at building. Everyone, it seemed, had a talent for something. Everyone was valued. They lived in harmony. Children were born, crops flourished…everything went great, and then the Enforcers returned.” His voice darkened and nothing friendly lived in his tone. “They came in the middle of the night. First they attacked the farms, slaughtering the recalcitrant
rogue
wolves who lived there, and two of the children managed to escape. They ran for the Butte. The Enforcers came here next, but the pack was ready for them. Command fell once more on Sean’s shoulders, and he visited hell on the Enforcers. They let none escape that day…a hundred Enforcers came for them and none walked away.”

Tears stung her eyes.

“During the fight, a lot of buildings were burned, including the grain stores. So the pack went into the coming winter with very little food and no supplies with their crops destroyed. Sean’s mate died in the fighting, and half the town was destroyed. Grief does strange things. He didn’t falter, he just kept making battle decisions. He scattered the pack to keep them from being one target. He ordered the strongest in each group he sent out to lead them. He ordered them to destroy any unknown wolf they encountered.”

Riveted, she couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Every wolf carried a mark…if a wolf was found without the mark declaring their family, their occupation or their identity, they were immediately to be put to death. It was how they lived during the war, and they’d forgotten for a few idyllic years. The cost left a scar on their souls.”

“And on yours.” He met her gaze at the words, and she blinked away tears. His wolf glared at her, gold eyes so pure and intense they could rival the brightness of the sun.

“Yes.” The word came out more animal than man. “We never forgot. Every year, the Reaping brings the strong together again because wolves, even the most powerful, weaken with time. The Reaping helped them identify the strongest in the pack, who would protect them for the next year and the year after and the year after. We couldn’t afford to keep the weak, because it cost lives.”

“But they didn’t come for you again, so why keep repeating the cycle?”

“Who is to say they didn’t come because they couldn’t? To this day, no Enforcer enters my lands. None. Not even fucking Julian. If he wants something from Sutter Butte, he calls or he camps on the edge until one of my wolves spots him and brings me a message. Enforcers are not welcome here…
ever
.”

She hadn’t known that. “I don’t think any of the other packs know that.” She’d met Julian, and she’d met many Enforcers over the years. They came and went in Delta Crescent.

“They don’t need to know. I know, that’s all that matters.”

Maybe. Rubbing a finger against her lips, she studied him. “So…all of what you want to change is to end more than a hundred and fifty years of bloody preparation and, then what? Recapture those first four years?”

He nodded once.

BOOK: Desert Wolf
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