Page 5 of Cats and Dogs

Chapter 3

Silver and Blood

Hunter volunteered for patrol that day. As usual, he’d done more than his share that week, but being out there at the border of their lands beat the alternative: spending time with the pack.

It hadn’t always been that way, by a long shot. In the old days, Hunter had been an integral part of the Vergas, and proud to be part of it. They were known among the wolves as the largest, most powerful pack. As a kid, and as the Alpha’s son, he had every reason to be proud of that.

Then, reality crept up on him.

It started when he’d left for college twelve years ago. Regulars didn’t exactly welcome sups in their school, so it was rare when a shifter was accepted; but Gwen pushed, and Hunter couldn’t say no to his big sister for very long, so he filled out an application, passed his tests, and got into Dartmouth.

Everyone was surprised that Arthur let him go; education wasn't his priority. But the Alpha had two good heirs - what his third kid was up to was of little interest to him. A Dartmouth degree was suitably impressive, so an eighteen-year-old Hunter was bound for New Jersey.

He knew exactly what to expect. His understanding of the world was simple and absolute. Regulars were weak and hateful. Shifters of other breeds were below wolves. Sups of other kinds, undeserving of his notice. And, above all, he was told that submissives were disgusting. Spineless. A disease that should be culled.

And Hunter entered a world where there were no absolutes, no black and white situations. Most of the other kids at school had been regulars, but, actually, among the fifty freshmen who shared some of his classes, he encountered less than a dozen who were prejudiced against him. Most of the guys wanted him to join their sports teams, when they allowed sups. The girls – well, regulars certainly had a thing for shifters.

There was a witch in his lit class, who was so good as to magically duplicate her copy of Macbeth after he lost his.

People were just...people.

Regulars, and the sups of a non-shifting variety, didn't officially categorize themselves as dominant or submissive, but he could scent the vibes those around him emanated; there were plenty of subs. They certainly didn't seem like a plague that ought to be eliminated.

Hunter knew what was done to subs in his pack. When they were recognized at puberty, after their first shift, most of them were killed. For the greater good, to keep the strong lines pure. He'd heard all those justifications and he'd believed them once. After his first year at school, thoughts of his home made him sick.

What happened to the sups who weren't killed was the worst thing about the Vergas Pack. They were claimed by dominants, bought like slaves. And they were used however their owners wanted to use them.

Arthur Force didn't own any submissives. He said they disgusted him too much to allow one in his home. So Hunter locked himself inside the house all of that summer, all the while dreading the inevitable: his father was going to want him to come out someday.

But Arthur didn't bother; he simply didn't care. The following year, Hunter got an internship during the summer. The perfect excuse to stay away. By age twenty-five, Hunter was working on his master’s in natural science, following Professor Luther back and forth across the entire globe to study the tectonic plates.

Until three years ago.

They were in Japan when a witch portal appeared out of the blue. Luther practically had a heart attack when a beautiful blonde leaped out of it. Then, he asked a thousand questions, determined to understand the phenomenon.

"Hey, slow down, doc. Meet my sister. Gwen, this is Chris Luther. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"No time for that, Dad's after me."

In his delight at seeing her, he hadn't noticed everything else, but now his attention caught every detail. The urgency of her voice, the erratic beat of her heart. Above all, the smell. Blood. Her blood.

"Gwen? What happened to you? Did Dad—"

"Most of the blood is because I just gave birth."

His mouth fell open. "What the..."

"Hey, you weren't there. Things happen in three years." Before he could feel guilty, she added, "I've never been prouder than when you left that stinking pack. I haven't been there for two years myself. I found my mate, and we lived on a ranch. It was wonderful, Hunter. But Dad somehow heard and he surrounded us today. Attacked on all fronts. We ran and I gave birth to my girl in the car."

This made no sense. Leaving the pack wasn't something people got attacked for. Those who left were generally considered cowards, cut off from pack funding, or even banished, but they weren't tracked and hunted.

Unless—

"Hunter, my mate is a jaguar."

That. Unless that.

"And your child is a hybrid."

---