“And that’s how they found out you’re trans.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud. This was Ren’s story to tell. But the implication was pretty obvious, and I spoke before I thought.
He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, the ones who were there…They weren’t the ones who brought me there, I don’t think? The Alpha said they weren’t. So they hadn’t seen me before in human form. I don’t know. Everything got confusing. But the ones who saw me shift back to human, to this…They didn’t take it well.”
“They attacked you because you’re trans?” My voice rose.
“It wasn’t the first time.” With a sigh, he looked down at his plate. “Not all of them attacked. The Alpha said to just leave me alone until I felt better. He stayed with me for a little while. Explained about werewolves. Told me about alphas and arkhons and the Anax. That’s how I knew who you were. I kind of sensed it, I guess? But I knew the title because the Alpha told me. He had the others bring me some food and water, and he sat with me for a while, but then he had to go deal with something else. As soon as he left, two of the others…Well, you saw.”
“Yes.” With my mouth set in a grim line, I regarded him. He was young. I couldn’t tell how young, but given that he’d only recentlybeen changed and therefore the slow aging of a werewolf hadn’t kicked in yet, I estimated he was in his early twenties at most. “Who was it, Ren? Do you know names? Their pack?”
“Names, no.” He shivered. “The Alpha introduced himself as Alpha of Connecticut Pack.”
“I know him.” Of course I did. It was part of my job to know all of the alphas in the entire country. But I’d known Enzo Pereira, Alpha of Connecticut Pack, longer than most, since his pack’s territory was nearby. Enzo had always struck me as a little more of a stickler for rules than he needed to be but a kind man in general. He might not have known what to make of a male wolf who shifted into a human form that appeared female, but he wouldn’t have ordered—or condoned—the attack. “I’ll find out who assaulted you, Ren, and they will face consequences. There’s no justification for this.”
“I just want to let it rest.” Leaning back a little, he closed his eyes. “What’s the point of doing anything to them? It won’t change how they think. It might even make it worse. They’ll be angry that they’re getting punished for attacking something they think shouldn’t exist.”
“I won’t argue with you.” I wouldn’t. But I would absolutely contact Enzo Pereira to find out what, if anything, he knew about this and to learn the names of Ren’s attackers. “I’m so sorry, Ren. When someone wakes up after their first shift, the pack is supposed to take care of them. Teach them. Support them. Not…” I waved in a generic direction. “This.”
“One of them told me the Anax would say they were doing the right thing.” He opened his eyes again and looked toward me. “They were wrong.”
“They were lying.” I hadn’t exactly built the right kind of reputation in the year since I took the rank. I’d helped a lot of people, but because the power had come to me filtered through a century or so of dwelling within a megalomaniac who had gone senile toward the end, I’d also caused harm. Harm I was still trying to undo through apologies and amends. It wasn’t surprising that members of Connecticut Pack had assumed Iwould agree with their treatment of Ren.
“I see that.” He picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled it. “The Alpha said I’m a member of Connecticut Pack. I don’t want to be.”
“You don’t have to be.” That was one thing I did have the ability to change. I stood. “Ren, what’s your last name? I need to know so I can cut your ties with Connecticut Pack.”
He blinked. “You can do that?”
“I’m the Anax. I can do pretty much anything.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I hoped he would find it reassuring, at least.
It seemed like a pretty simple question.What’s your last name?Something even young children could answer. But Ren stared down at his plate, chewing his lower lip, and didn’t respond.
It took me a few seconds of uncomfortable silence to realize what the problem might be. Ren was probably the name he’d chosen for himself, not the one he’d been given at birth. Maybe he had also chosen a new last name when he embraced himself as a transgender man.
I could help with that, too. My friend Brianna, now mate of the City Pack Beta, had arrived in Boston with the first name Candace, a name that for her had held incredible pain and baggage due to abuse she’d suffered. During the brief time she’d spent as one of the Boston North pack members under my rule as Alpha, she’d changed her name to one that didn’t hold those negative associations. When she asked me to call her Brianna, I had declared it her true name, and whatever magic existed within and among werewolves had made it so.
I could do that for Ren, too, if he wanted. If he would let me.
If I could explain how it worked, which was never easy when it came to power and magic.
“Tell me the name you want to be called.” Lowering myself back to my chair so I wouldn’t unintentionally intimidate him, I spoke softly. “We can make that your name. I just need to know what it is.”
“You can…?” Shaking his head, he chuckled faintly. “Yeah, you probably can. There’s a whole lot I don’t understand about this werewolf thing. My last name is Torres. It was the last name of, I think, the first trans male character in a TV show. It was a Canadian teen show that was on here in the U.S. too, and I found it on streaming when I was like ten. Seeing that character helped me understand who I really am. His first name was Adam, and I didn’t want that name, but I chose his last name. Ren’s after a some-number-of-great uncle who was allegedly a spy during World War Two. His name was Rene.” He studied me, then laughed. “Sorry. You didn’t need to know all that.”
Torres. I stared at him, until he looked down in confusion. As a newly-changed werewolf, only fifteen years old, I’d met Chal Torres, Alpha of City Pack in Boston. Chal had advised me. Arranged for me, when I was still only seventeen, to challenge the Alpha of Boston North Pack when that Alpha’s senility made him a threat to his pack members. And when I won that fight, Chal became my mentor and my chief supporter among all of the werewolf leaders in the country.
Not quite two years ago, Chal had died, ambushed by a human carrying a silver-loaded gun on hunt night during one of the regional gatherings.
Chal was my closest friend, and I still grieved him and hoped he would be proud of the leader I was becoming. Despite my shock at hearing his last name in this circumstance, knowing Chal as well as I had, I suspected he would be pleased to share that name with Ren.
I didn’t know what my facial expression was, but Ren looked worried. I definitely didn’t want him thinking he’d done anything wrong by telling me so much. I carefully composed my features into something I hoped would reassure him. “I told you to tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. So you’re Ren Torres?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
I stood again. He flinched but relaxed when I stayed right in front of my chair. For a brief moment, I paused, letting the words I needed come to me from wherever they came from. Then I cleared my throat and said, “Ren Torres, self-named and so named. I declare that to be your true name, and I declare you apackless wolf under my direct rule unless or until such time as that placement is no longer appropriate for you.”
Power wrapped around us again, as it had when I gave him my word, but this felt different. This was a welcoming power, a current of acceptance and reshaping. Creating Ren as who he truly was.
His eyes widened, and he gasped. “Anax?”
