Scarred Wolf by Charlene Hartnady
1
Jaxon
The moon is throwing flickeringrays of silver over our naked skin. We’re standing in a clearing on pack lands. Three formidable figures dappled by light and dark.
“Tear out his throat!” my father snarls.
“He’s still a human.” I practically whisper, even though there is a part of me who wants to do just that.
“Not a human, you insolent fuck! A pre-wolf. There’s a big difference and you know it.” He pulls in a breath, “You’ll do it then?” he says; his voice is deep, his eyes hard. As if he’s giving me an option. I set my jaw, still resisting. What he’s asking goes against my nature, even though I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. I’ve played this moment in my mind a thousand times. It’s always wolf on wolf.
“I’ll kill the fucker as soon as he shifts,” I growl. I’m not into killing humans, even if they deserve it. A pre-wolf may as well be a human. They can’t shift. They’re weak and have none of our strength. It will give me far more satisfaction to kill an equal. I’m not a murderer. Killing a human would be murder in the first fucking degree.
“He’s strong. You can feel it…we all can.”
“I’m strong, too,” I insist. I am! I’m the son of a fucking alpha…the alpha of our pack.
“I’ve made up my mind! You’ll do as I tell you.” And there it is! His command.
I pull in a breath, shifting from one foot to the other. I’m seriously pissed. I’ll do what, he wants but on my terms. It’s not like I don’t want vengeance. I do, just not like this.
“The Moones slaughtered your mother, boy. I took care of the parents. I killed them and made them pay, now it’s your turn to do your part.” His eyes drift to my scars, pausing on the one on my chest. On the claw mark. “Their unholy spawn walks this earth, remorseless, unpunished. I’d have thought you’d be itching to rip the bastard’s throat out.”
He’s pulling all the right cards. My father knows exactly how to get to me. The wolves who assassinated our alpha leader almost twenty-five years ago had no qualms about leaving my mother dying in their wake. Collateral damage. I was just a pup then, but I can still remember her sweet face; eyes and gentle as a breeze on a moonlit night. I was there when it happened, but I can’t remember a thing. All I have are strange nightmares that haunt me. “A pre-wolf is no match for me,” I mutter. “Let me—”
“Exactly!” my father snarls. “That’s why you find that thing and kill it now. You look it in the eyes, and you rip its throat out. Bring me the bastard’s head.”
“But—” I try again.
“Jaxon!” My father’s deep voice pulls me back to the present. I resist for a moment before I raise my eyes. Silver meets silver. It’s like looking into a mirror twenty years from now. My father’s features are much like my own, except gray streaks his thick dark hair, and his nose is flanked by sharply etched lines around a cruel mouth that never smiles. Mine doesn’t either. Not much to smile about when you’re the son of the pack leader. Not much to smile about as his silver-gray eyes narrow on mine, thick brows lowered in a scowl. I flick my gaze down quickly; he may be my father, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be swift sanction for insolence. Don’t challenge the alpha…it’s a rule written in blood. Lately, it’s a rule I’ve been itching to break.
“Warden,” a voice halts the building tension between us, and I’m grateful for the intrusion as I look over at my uncle. Garret Skau could easily be as strong and powerful as my father and me – if it wasn’t for the defect that has ailed him since birth. A twisted hip that left him with a permanent limp. Not completely debilitating, but there’s never been a time he could keep up with the pack. And so, there’s never been a time he’d be considered as alpha. That was my father’s lot – yet he defers to his twin brother, for some reason. Probably the only man he’s ever listened to. He’s listening to him now. Almost.
“Warden,” Garret continues, looking at me with the same silver eyes. His are softer…kinder. I feel myself relax instantly. “I think your kid may be right,”
Kid.
Hah!
I’m twenty-eight. Coming from Garret, I take it for what it is. I can see a further softening in my uncle’s eyes and for a moment I feel relief…an ally. “We don’t need to kill the pre-wolf. We—”
“No!” my father barks out the word so violently I’m sure I can feel the sound rumbling in the earth. “We’ve felt the pull of its power growing daily. That soon-to-be-shifter is coming into its prime. That beast is destined to be an alpha. Could very well be a double-alpha. You know this as well as I do. A greater threat does not exist. Then take into account all they did to us…to Arken…to Jasmine… We’re talking about the offspring of Jasmine’s killers. If Jaxon had been any older, he probably would have been slain too.” His voice vibrates in a low growl. “My mate was torn limb from limb…so much blood. The agony she must have felt…it took a long time for her to…to die.” I watch his throat work. “Her eyes…her screams.” He shakes his head. “Couldn’t even string two words together. Shouting your name, Garret, in hopes that you could save her.” He looks at my uncle, who drops his gaze to the ground. I think I might have seen a glint. I definitely saw shame and guilt.
Poor Garret!Such a burden for him to bear. We know he did everything he could to save her.
My father’s clawed hands clench into fists. “I want that fucker dead. I want his head.”
I grit my teeth when I hear my dad’s words. My gut churns. What son wants to hear the details of his mother’s gruesome death repeated over and over? I’ve blocked it from my memory and so my father never lets me forget it. At every opportunity, he reminds me of what happened the night that Callum and Ella Moone plotted to overthrow our leader and take over the pack. A bloody coup that was thwarted. The perpetrators were thrown out of the pack for good. My father would have killed them then, if he’d had the chance, but Fate interceded. And now Fate has interceded again. The pair had a pup. A wolf born of two prime alphas. It rarely happens, but when it does… Even I can feel the pull the pre-wolf is giving off. This bastard is going to be strong as fuck should he be allowed to turn. Maybe my father is right.
No!
I’m not a murdering bastard. If I kill a pre-wolf, it will be outright murder. Like a lamb to the fucking slaughter. I won’t do it! I fold my arms. I am strong enough to take him once he turns. I know I am.
My uncle steps forward. “Wait just a minute, Warden.”
My father snarls. I see his face shifting. His teeth sharpen. His eyes narrow and brighten like shards of steel. Garret is still facing him. A lesser male would be cringing on the floor by now in a pool of piss. Garret’s not a lesser male, he’s as tough as my dad and my father is as badass as they come. That fleeting eye-contact earlier would normally have earned me fang-marks on my throat. At the very least, I’d be shaken viciously and taught a violent lesson. Although these “lessons” have been becoming fewer and fewer. It’s no longer as easy for Warden to take me off my feet. I think he knows this as well as I do. It’s only my respect for him that compels me to submit nowadays.
He’s a hard man, but it’s not his fault. Ruling a pack comes with responsibilities. And after the brutal start of his reign, he’s always held onto his position with an iron fist. I know he cares for me; he just can’t show it. Something broke inside him the day my mom died. Everything soft was whittled away, leaving him brittle and hard in its wake.
They’re still in a standoff; my father’s features are still half-turned. “Warden Skau!” my uncle says sharply, snapping his brother out of the onset of his blood-rage. “Calm down, brother,” he continues, his tone gentler now. All over again, I am shocked at their dynamic. No one else would dare tell my father to calm down. My uncle goes on, “I have another solution. One I urge you to consider. You know it won’t do well to call attention to the pack. A blood killing among the humans? We both know this could be disastrous. If they ever found out about our existence…” He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t have to. We all know what the consequences would be. Humans might be weak, but they outnumber us by a mile.
My father shakes his head…but he’s listening. The bristling hackles that had risen along his bare spine are easing back beneath his skin. He’s a broad, muscular man. Tall for a lupine…towering by human standards. Even in his bare human form, he’s intimidating. I guess all of us are.
“Go on,” my father says to Garret. His jaw is still tight, his eyes still narrowed.
“I’ve devised an antidote,” he says simply. My uncle’s disability may have diminished a lesser man, but Garret let it drive him to a different path. His considerable power has been channeled into nobler pursuits. He’s been the pack’s healer for as long as I can remember. I’ve seen him tend to scrapes and grazes…shattered limbs and torn bellies.
I think he started on this path in the hope of finding a cure for his own ailment. Or maybe I’m completely off base. He seems quite content with his life, even though it was he who should have been alpha. Just like me, Garret was the firstborn; only by minutes, but to us, it holds weight. Perhaps another reason for my father’s lenience. My dad is staring at him now, slightly perplexed.
“An antidote?” he says. I can see he’s not convinced. Not even close. Warden Skau wants to hear about blood and gore, especially when it comes to his enemies.
“A powerful curse,” Garret rephrases. “A potion so potent it will strip every ounce of strength from the pre-wolf. By the time it’s been administered, you’ll be left with a mewling kitten instead of a burgeoning beast. Just think of it, Warden. Your legacy – not one of bloodshed, but of complete domination. You don’t need to simply kill your enemies. You have the power to strip them of theirs. A wolf who can’t shift. A wolf who is nothing. A shell of what they should be. It would be hell. A living hell is better than a swift death when it comes to this particular individual.”
He’s speaking my father’s language now. I can see it on his face. Warden turns to me, a grin slowly spreading.
“Yes…a living hell.” He barks out a laugh that’s devoid of all humor. “I like it.” He turns to me. “You’ll do this for our pack, Jaxon. Find the pre-wolf, deliver the antidote. It will also offer us a degree of vengeance. Although, nothing can make up for what happened to your mother.”
I nod. “How would this antidote affect a human?” I ask Garret. I need to have all the facts. They would be surrounded by humans, after all.
“That’s an excellent question,” my uncle says, rubbing his chin. “Administered to a pre-wolf, it will prevent the change from ever happening. It would turn a human into a bumbling idiot if given in sufficient quantities. It might even be enough to kill one. You would need to be very careful. Also, there would be a reaction in the pre-wolf. I suspect it would look similar to an epileptic fit. So, I don’t suggest that you give the antidote anywhere in public, at least, not if humans are near. It’s important to fly beneath the radar…subtlety is what is required on this mission. You administer the dose to the pre-wolf and make sure they consume the entire vial. Even better, you should inject it directly into a vein. You would need to do this without outing us or getting yourself arrested. It shouldn’t be that difficult.” He shrugs. “You are a shifter…a male in your prime.” He pats my back.
No pressure!
I nod in agreement. It’s by no means a simple task, but I sure as hell can get it done. With that, our meeting is concluded. I watch as their flesh sprouts fur. I feel my own transformation begin, feel the elongation of limbs and the tightening of muscles. When the moon flickers back through the trees, it glints off my charcoal pelt. I run, pushing hard; the soil is soft beneath the pads of my paws. If only that moon could lighten the burden I feel on my shoulders. I’m glad my father chose me. I need to do this for my mother…for my pack. There’s a big part of me that needs to do this for myself, too. I will avenge the death of my beloved mother and keep the pack safe, even if it kills me.
