While I was at school, the alpha was challenged and lost to an outsider. It must have been a bitter pill, since he’d been well liked and done a good job in his office, but rules were rules, and pack alphas had to face that possibility. And then, I started seeing changes. Slowly, the easy, relaxed air of the lands tensed. Each visit home, I saw more regimented behavior from those who lived there, and even my fathers who had been older when I was born and were therefore retired, were quieter. Oh, they hugged me and fixed big meals and asked me all about my life, but the little pack-life anecdotes grew fewer. I had to ask themquestions in return about their life, which was new, and their answers were brief and along the lines of, “Oh, you know how it is,” or “Change is never easy.”
Worried, I made more frequent trips to see them, which made me more aware of issues of concern. My dads’ pantry was no longer full, and I feared that they were putting themselves in danger of hunger when they prepared feasts for me. I managed that by bringing groceries and prepared meals as gifts, but they insisted that they were fine, had everything they needed.
And, no, they did not want to leave the packlands and come live with me or even in a place of their own.
My wolf grew more unsettled with each visit.
“We’ve lived here all our lives, Kenny,” Pops said. “We don’t know anything else. Change is never easy, and things will smooth out.”
Those stories were wearing thin. But I couldn’t force them to move if they didn’t want to.
I had approached my friends, but they were even more closemouthed and looked around as if they were afraid to speak or maybe even be seen with me.
And then, one day, I could no longer stand back and hope for the best.
The gates a quarter mile off the main road were never locked. Never closed in my memory. When I was a child, if humans wandered in, at least ones with no legitimate business, someone would guide them back out explaining we were a private community. Usually they gave them some sort of produce or handicraft as a parting gift to back up the theory that we were kind of a commune who farmed and made things.
It worked fine.
Then one day, I arrived to find the gates closed. I got out of my car to open them…but they were locked. And while I stood there, digging out my phone to call my dads and get someoneto let me in, two males approached and demanded to know my business.
Which would have held water if we hadn’t grown up together.
“Barney, Ezra, what is this all about?”
“These lands are only for pack members, Kenny.” Ezra apparently got over pretending not to know me. “We can’t let you in.”
“I always visit my fathers,” I pointed out. “And while I don’t live here, I never gave up membership—and I pay a fee to keep that.” Nobody had asked me to, but once I was making a good living, I’d wanted to contribute to the welfare of my family and friends. “So, what’s up?”
Barney glanced over his shoulder and looked back at me. “New rule. Alpha says if you don’t live here, you aren’t pack and you have been declared rogue.”
All of the concerns I’d had that my family and friends were suffering under bad management at best and tyranny at worst bubbled up from where I’d stuffed them down, followed by my wolf who fought to get out.
He probably didn’t like being called rogue, but the scent of rage and fear pouring from my skin were all directed toward saving our people. We might have been called rogue, but we were not. We left with the old alpha’s blessing, and our gifts of money for the pack had been gratefully accepted.
The new alpha had never rejected anything either, but now I was being kept from my fathers and the rest? With no assurance they were all right? My wolf’s connection with other pack animals had him sure they were anything but all right. “Open the gate, now,” I snarled. “If I have to get in any other way, you’ll pay.”
The two cringed, as I knew they would. My wolf was much larger and stronger than theirs, and the alpha must have putthem on this duty thinking it would be easy. Most people would simply turn away from a locked gate.
“You can’t come in,” Barney whined. “Everyone is fine here. You don’t have to worry. Just go back to the city.”
Most people’s fathers were not on the other side of that gate. Most people’s pack had not been imprisoned by an unjust alpha. I didn’t have proof of these things, but my wolf was feeding me thoughts from those animals he had contact with. It wasn’t all, and I’d been told it wasn’t common for animals to share what they learned from one another with their other halves. But mine had shared such things with me since I was very small.
And I trusted him.
Unlike these two who I remembered as so cowardly.
“One last chance.” I breathed hard, holding my wolf back as best I could. I might need to let him free, but for now, I felt it best to keep in two-legged form. For communication purposes.
“But we’ll get in trouble,” Ezra whimpered. “The alpha will kill us.”
Okay…I could go around, get in through one of the many places in the fence nobody had ever maintained, and kill them myself. But I didn’t want to kill anyone if I could avoid it. My wolf was angry, but he didn’t want to do harm either, unless it became necessary.
“Are there cameras here?” I didn’t see any, but maybe the alpha was unusually tech-savvy.
“No.” Barney shook his head.
“Then who’s to know if you unlock the gate, let me in, then lock it again?”
