Page 26 of Defiant
I’d changed right at nineteen, along with two other guys in our pack. We were all betas. We’d gone to our first pack howl slightly drunk to dull our nerves. The entire group attending that night had followed us from the meeting house—a bigass cabin—out to the Drop. That was what they called the cliff. Though most of our land was forest, there was this epic canyon not too far from the pack house. A small river, maybe more of a stream—I don’t really know—wound through the center of it. It wasn’t Grand Canyon level, but it was still impressive. The sheer sides of stone, the scent of mud and fresh water … the smell of pine around you as you stared down into an abyss that could kill even a shifter. No way any of us could live if we jumped. Quick healing wouldn’t be enough to save you.
The smells that night are always the first thing I remember, because of how intense they’d suddenly become. Beyond the scents of nature, I’d smelled the hot dogs and burgers that someone had grilled at the meeting house for after the ceremony and our first run with the pack.
The crowd had been huge. All shifters were required to attend at least one monthly pack howl. Locals often went every week, though. I’d guessed at least five hundred were there that night since it wasn’t just a howl, but an initiation as well.
And all of them had watched as Alpha Maddox made us climb up onto a rock near the edge of the Drop, strip naked, and repeat after him as he stood on the ground below us, wearing a full suit and an intimidating expression.
I’d tried not to shiver as I’d cupped my junk and recited, “I call upon the moon goddess tonight to witness my vow. I vow to follow the law of the Lobos, to honor our head alpha, and swear my soul to the protection of the wolves of my pack so long as I live.”
Alpha Maddox had then sworn back to us. “I accept you as wolves into my pack and under my protection. I vow to do everything to protect you, guide you, and keep you safe so long as I live.”
I swear a shiver ran down my spine that night. I blame it on the breeze whenever I think about it, or nerves. But my wolf flashes his eyes at me whenever I think about it. He disagrees. He’s adamant the vow means something. It satisfies his need for order, place, instruction—eases that anxiety that sometimes comes when I take him out for a run on my own. He’s not big on that. It makes him uneasy not to have a lead wolf to follow, to not have pack members watching his back at all times.
I call him a damned mouse whenever that happens and he fucking hates that. His ears go back and he’ll deliberately run at a tree and then shift at the last second so I smash my head.
My wolf fucking chuckles at my current thoughts as I pull into the pack house parking lot, just a second shy of the howl’s start time. “Yeah, yeah,” I say aloud to him as I check my pocket for Elena’s phone and climb out. I pull it out for a second and sniff. Her scent is faint, definitely mingled with mine. But I hope it will still have enough of her scent on it for Alpha Maddox and his elites to help find her. If not, I leave her bag in the car as a backup, so that the scents of several hundred other wolves don’t overpower whatever’s left of hers.
My wolf feels confident, certain, almost eager—to get Alpha Maddox’s help. Of course, he sometimes likes to hand over his problems instead of solving them himself.
I hurry across the asphalt toward the glowing yellow windows, which light up tons of shifters mingling around. They’re still in human form right now, thank fuck. Otherwise, it would be far harder for me to get to Alpha Maddox and explain what I need.
I hurtle into the check-in station, where one of the elites narrows his eyes at me. He’s a big tall dude. He goes by Pluto for douchebag reasons that always make me roll my eyes. Asshole thinks he’s “lord of the underworld.”
“You’re late,” Pluto says in a clipped tone.
“Barely,” I say, ducking my head and dipping my eyes down to the electronic tablet he’s using for check-in.
“You can help clean up after.” Pluto’s tone brooks no argument.
Not that I’d argue. I’m about to ask for a favor after all.
“Yes sir.”
“Name?” he asks.
He doesn’t remember me. None of the high-ranking alpha pricks ever bother to remember the name of betas. I give my pack nickname, one I don’t fucking love, but—unless you’re an alpha—you don’t get to choose. “Murky,” I sigh.
My fucking friends thought it would be funny to name me after Rainbow Brite’s stupid villain. Dicks.
Pluto smirks as he marks me present. “Go to the changing room. Good luck finding sweats in your size.”
I make a face. He’s right. Being late means only the small sizes will be left. Dammit. I scrunch my nose. “Guess I’m ruining these pants.” No way I’m trying to squeeze my ass into pack-issue sweats, which are rip-aways for when we shift.
“Up to you. Enjoy streaking back to your car afterward. Personal effects?” He asks. We always have to give up keys, wallets, phones, anything of value so that nobody loses stuff during a shift. Pack members don’t steal from one another—a fight to the death makes the penalty way too fucking stiff—but apparently, a lot of fights used to break out when people lost their keys.
I hand over my keys, wallet, and my phone—though I keep Elena’s. He hangs the keys on a board full of numbered hooks behind him, taking the key tag, and pulling a sticker off of it to mark a Ziplock with the same number. In go my wallet and phone. Those get stacked inside an open safe while I watch. Then Pluto puts the key tag onto a black leather dog collar with silver buckles before handing it to me.
I toss it around my neck and latch it with a sigh. My wolf loves the collar. I … tolerate it.
Pluto turns to someone who came in even later than I did and I escape the entry hall and go to the main meeting room, which is filled with more chairs than most churches. People hang out near the coffee machines at the back, snacking on sliders and veggie trays, getting a last buzz for the night before we sit down to hear any pack updates.
“I hear construction of the new swimming pool is going well. It’ll be so nice to have a place just for shifters—”
I push through a group of shifter women chattering, my blue eyes on high alert as I scan the crowd for Alpha Maddox. Normally, he does what he calls “mingling.” But that usually only involves the richer shifters. He’s never once talked to me since my initiation.
But I’m not going to hold that against him tonight. Not when my chest is still spinning like a police light. I feel like there’s a big flashing alarm going off inside my body and it’s driving me insane.
I finally spot Alpha Maddox toward the back of the crush. He’s got notes in his hand like he always does for his addresses at these things. He’s also wearing a suit, like always. He’s so damn tall that he dwarfs the guy next to him. I’m six feet tall myself and he towers over me. And while I’ve built muscle, the dude is just … massive. Not to mention that intimidating glare he likes to give. He’s got that exact look on his face now as he whispers to an elite whose pack name is Knife.
