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Prides were not, in most cases, religious. Most gave reverence to the goddess. Certainly all tried not to tick off Fate who held our matings in her hands. Some even celebrated human holidays like Christmas, but most stuck to the solstices and other nature-based festivities.
Not us. Sometime when I was not much older than a toddler, an elder wolf came to our gates. I remembered only because it was the day everything changed. Up to that point, we were pretty much like everyone else, but when that bearded dude with his walking stick marched up to the alpha house and banged on the door, our happy little pack turned into a cult.
Harsh words, I know, but his arrival at a vulnerable time in our previous alpha’s life served as a pivot that haunted everyone on the lands to this day. Alpha was standing at the bedside of his only son when the prophet marched into the room. I’d been playing on the steps, throwing a small ball in the air and trying to catch it in the cup, waiting for my parents who were inside with all the others. Bored, hungry, and looking for someone to play with, I defied the instructions of my omega father to, “Stay right here and play with your ball,” and followed him inside the house and up the broad staircase to the room of my usual playmate, Arch.
At four, I had little understanding of the situation except that the grown-ups were crying or wringing their hands. The alpha was surrounded by many of his betas and others, crying out to the Goddess for help. Terror squeezed my insides, and I thrust myself into a corner of the room, behind a dresser, to watch without somehow getting caught up in whatever was upsetting the big people so much.
The old man shoved his way into the room and disappeared in the crowd. The alpha demanded to know why he was there, and he spoke but in a much lower voice than the alpha, who was fond of shouting just about everything, ever did, so I couldn’t hear. But after some back-and-forth, there was no more talking, and I curled up in my corner and drifted off.
I didn’t know until much later that the gasps and high-pitched words that woke me were in response to the very sick little boy on the bed sitting up and asking for candy. A high fever refused to break, the pack healer had no results, and then this man came in and said some kind of incantation over him and saved his life. Or so everyone believed. And maybe he did, but that was no excuse for giving him utter control over our lives from that day forward. He claimed that Arch had crossed over before he got there and that he’d reached over and dragged him back from the abyss to stay with his grateful parents and grow up to be the most important alpha in the history of the pack.
That meant he was bowed and kowtowed to over and over and became quite impossible. Nobody wanted to play with him, but we did because he told us to, and if we defied him, he told someone else we had. Mose, the old man, was on his right-hand side all the time, telling him what to do and how to do it in order to be that most important alpha. Arch was never even challenged. Who would challenge a god?
It was totally weird.
And I left the moment I could. But I missed a lot of what being part of a pack meant. Even if I did have a bear for a father.
Chapter Two
Memphis
By the time I left the office, the streetlights outside the towering business were on and the walking traffic had slowed. I lived in an apartment nearby, since I spent more time at work than home. It wasn’t even a home at this point, more like a hotel.
My bear didn’t appreciate the city, not one bit. It was a rare occurrence that I took a day trip to the country and let him out for a run. He hated the abrasiveness of urban life. The noise. The myriad of smells all competing against each other and overloading our senses.
Plus, the city was full of humans. Humans who didn’t understand shifter culture or shifter ways.
Those who even knew we were real said shifters were feral but, in my experience, the humans could use a lesson or two in kindness and decency.
I was a prosecutor, which meant I worked harder and for less money than the others—and at the mercy of the state.
I’d become cynical of people, mostly humans since becoming an attorney. In college, I’d foolishly thought I could somehow change the world but now…I was numb.
The job drained me of all my energy and time. By the time I got home, I was hollow and empty.
After taking the stairs to my apartment, I wrenched the door open. The super still hadn’t come and fixed it, and it stuck every time I opened or closed it. The pipes rattled when I turned on the hot water, and one of the burners on the back of the stove didn’t work at all.
Not that I had the time or gumption to cook.
I tossed the pile of mail on the rickety kitchen table, not having the energy to deal with it right that moment. I needed a shower to wash away the gunk of the day, and my belly needed food.
Another thing my bear was not pleased about was the takeout I lived on.
He wanted fresh meat, something we didn’t get very often.
After I showered, I emerged from the bathroom in my pajama pants with a towel wrapped around my neck since my hair was still dripping. The fridge whined at me as I opened it to see if there was anything close to edible inside it.
There were tons of cartons and to-go containers but none of them had much more than a morsel between them. And many were of questionable vintage.
“Fuck, I need to eat.”
I sat down at the table, pulling my phone to me. I wanted a steak and potatoes, maybe with some macaroni and cheese and crab cakes, but I was still on a tight budget and needed to stick to my guns. After all, I was still up to my eyeballs in student loans.
Instead of what I wanted, I ended up with hot-and-sour soup and an order of wontons. It came with free rice, and anything free was more than welcome. It was a far cry from the protein that I needed but it would have to do.
While I waited for the delivery, I pulled open my laptop, ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut at doing so. Since Carl left, I’d realized what he’d done in my absence. He’d taken advantage of my hardworking personality and ruined me financially. Yes, I was stupider than a bag of hammers for not checking up on things, for trusting him completely and moreover, blindly, but he was my omega, or had been.
If you couldn’t trust your mate, what did you actually have in this life?
