Wolf Claim (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 3) (2 page)

Ryan stood near Mason and the two conversed in low tones. Ryan’s hand on his granddaughter’s back emphasized the family ties between them. A.J. took a spot against one wall, arms folded. The wolf had spent years in a human prison and, shortly after his return, Mason elevated him to second in the pack.

A clever move on the part of the relatively new Alpha. Like Mason, A.J. carried the Alpha potential in his demeanor and personal strength. Few wolves could have survived the isolation and crippling effects of enforced captivity. Not only had A.J. survived, but he’d come out whole on the other side. His mate Vivian brought a uniqueness to the pack and it’d only been three months since her first turn.

Mason and A.J. had a great deal in common. Each brought outside perspective to Willow Bend, as well as formerly human mates who’d recently joined their pack. Young blood, Mrs. Tate called them both. Young blood to bring fresh life.

Owen crossed the room to drop down on one knee next to Felicia Carlyle’s chair. The elegant older wolf, with her snow white hair and kind eyes, gave him a gentle smile. Felicia Carlyle had once been Felicia Chase, sister to Owen’s grandfather.

“Hello, darling boy.” She smiled and accepted his kiss before stroking her hand over his head in welcome. He permitted few to touch him, bowed to far less. Felicia, however, could have whatever she wanted. With a quick smile, he rose and took a place behind her chair.

Settling, he met Mason’s gaze, held it for the space of two heartbeats, then lowered his in deference. From the day he’d returned to the pack, Mason Clayborne earned Owen’s loyalty with two simple, yet utterly inarguable, acts. First he’d challenged Toman and defeated the Alpha. Though Mason had been tempted to offer the man mercy, Toman made the choice to continue the fight, forcing Mason to kill him. That could have been the end of it, but Mason had gone to Felicia and helped keep her with them.

Surrounded by the pack and with the strength of the new Alpha to lean on—strength Mason had freely shared—Felicia Carlyle lived. Grief had left its mark on her, but she’d begun to thrive as the pack looked after her and relied on her in turns.

The only others present were Emma Halifax, the pack’s healer, Virgil Buckley, A.J.’s father and a vehicle mechanic and Vance, a relaxed beta male who served as administrator for the local schools.

“Good, everyone is here.” Mason nodded to the sideboard, a nonverbal invitation for others to eat. Though the food smelled good, Owen decided to wait. He was the only Hunter present, therefore responsible for protecting every single person in the room, particularly their most vulnerable. Passing his daughter over to Ryan, Mason stroked a finger across her hair. “We have a few things to discuss tonight, including a request from Hudson River.”

The last caught the attention of every wolf present. The five packs of North America respected each other’s borders, avoided more than the most tacit of skirmishes, and mostly kept to themselves unless under severe duress. One notable exception had been the death of Delta Crescent’s Alpha several years before. The old man had won and held the respect of not only his pack, but also the Enforcers and the other Alphas. In a rare demonstration, representatives from all the packs had attended his funeral. Later, they remained to witness the battle for dominance between his top lieutenants. A battle Mason had participated in, but not as contender for the title, rather as a supporter for Serafina Andre, the Alpha who won. Owen had gone along with his father to witness and represent Willow Bend.

“We’ll get to that last item.” Mason continued speaking, seemingly unperturbed by their silence. “I’ve also heard the rumors of a disagreement brewing between the other packs, but not one that will touch us yet. For now, we will watch and we’ll be aware. Ryan, I may need you to go to Sutter Butte and Delta Crescent next month.” Ryan’s skill at legal maneuverings and diplomacy made him the obvious choice for a mission requiring finesse and intelligence.

The attorney nodded and continued to sway in place, rocking his granddaughter. No one brought up the Yukon pack. The less they dealt with them, the better.

“That said, go ahead and give me your reports.” Rather than waiting for them to begin, Mason loaded a plate with food and carried it to Felicia. He made the rounds to Emma, Virgil, and Vance. The need to care for his pack seemed as strong in Mason as his need to defend it. These qualities made him a good leader, one worthy of being followed.

“We’ve got a youth problem,” Vance began without preamble. “About a dozen young dominant males, all vying to be Alpha of the youth groups. Your last visit settled them some, but it’s beginning again. Summer is close, schools will shut down, and we’re going to have fights.”

“Owen, how many Hunters do we have?” Though he likely knew the answer, Mason included Owen in the conversation by asking.

“Forty active.” Owen knew every single one by name. “Another thirty or so retired.”
Including my father
. Hunters worked until age or infirmity dictated they give way to the younger generation, though they were hardly useless to the pack. Retired Hunters served within the community, guarding the schools, patrolling the streets, and generally offering a soothing presence to the populace. Younger Hunters existed on the fringe and borders, discouraging and repelling potential invaders.

“See who is willing to take on an apprentice or two. We’ll place a dozen of the most obvious troublemakers first. We’ll give them a job, and they can start learning to be productive. If we have any other Hunters willing, we can make an offer for additional volunteers.”

A solid plan
. Owen nodded. “My father will definitely take one or two. He knows how to handle hard-headed boys.” Laughter greeted his statement. “I’d rather they stay with the retired.” While it would be safer for the boys, limiting who they were partnered with wouldn’t do them any favors.

“Fair enough.” Mason made himself a plate. “You’ll take care of it.” It hadn’t been a question, but Owen gave his ascent regardless. He was the lead among the Hunters, the most dominant, and so the task was his. “Virgil, how about you?”

“Spirits are up, so is the confidence level. A.J.’s homecoming has done a great deal to comfort the anxious. We still have a few naysayers. Gerald will be the last you sway, but he’s a farmer and very set in his ways. He and Toman were friends for years.”

“Gerald is harmless,” Felicia said, her soft voice carrying across the room. “He’s an old man and, yes, set in his ways. You just keep doing what you’re doing, Mason. You’ll prove it to him and he will accept it. Whether he agrees or not, however, he won’t challenge you.”

No one said anything as Mason seemed to contemplate Felicia’s words. Finally, he said, “If he isn’t stirring up problems, he’s entitled to his opinions and earned the right to express them.” While not a comfortable position to assume, it was the kind of decision that earned him their loyalty. He put the pack before his personal comfort and likely would in all matters that didn’t involve his wife or daughter—exactly as he should.

Emma spoke next. “We have no major issues within the pack. A few pregnancies, two broken legs that will take some looking after, but I don’t want the boys to rush off and do anything stupid. Overall, very quiet.”

“And Vivian?” Mason glanced at his second, then the healer.

“She’s perfectly fine,” Emma said, a smile in her voice. “We were correct. She has no brain anomalies and she’s adjusting even faster to pack life than Alexis.” They didn’t turn humans every day, so two newly turned wolves in less than a year kept their healer busier than normal.

For his part, A.J. looked content. “I told you so.”

“Yes, you did.” Mason chuckled. “Never hurts to ask. So, this brings me to a question, Emma. Can you spare Gillian, or would you be interested in a trip yourself?”

Surprise creased the older wolf’s face and rippled through murmurs from the wolves in the room. “A trip?”

“Brett Dalton, Alpha of Hudson River, called me this morning.” With that statement, Mason had their undivided attention. Owen narrowed his gaze, studying his Alpha’s body language and scent. Concern tightened the corners of Mason’s eyes, and his shoulders set in a hard line. “They’ve suffered some losses over the last several months. One or two in separate incidences, nothing to tie them together, and no real pattern that aroused suspicion, except for his healer. Three days ago, Brett found his healer dead.”

No one moved, save for Emma. “What happened?”

“Natural causes, Brett hopes.”

“But?” Owen asked. Alphas didn’t reach out to other Alphas every day, and the death of a healer hurt a pack. Even if it was due to natural causes, it created an injury that didn’t heal easily.

“But he isn’t sure, and he found records in the healer’s home for each of the deaths in the last eighteen months.”

“How many?” Emma continued to focus on Mason.

“Fourteen. With the death of his healer, Brett makes the count fifteen. They have no apprentices, and only one child with the potential. He’s asked me for a favor, and I am considering granting it.”

Ice slithered through Owen. Emma was a vital, healthy wolf, but sending their healer beyond their territory didn’t sit well with him. Nor did…

“He wants to know if Gillian or I can go,” Emma said. It wasn’t a question.

Owen curled his fingers into his palms. He knew no reaction would show on his face and, with the tension levels in the room already on the rise, whatever the others picked up would be seen as natural concern. Gillian was a doll, a perfect wolf in every way. Kind and guileless to a fault, she would rip off her own arms to help a stranger.

Another pack would tear her apart.

Neither choice sat well with him.

“Yes, but I won’t order it.” Mason folded his arms, his attention on Emma. “I have Brett’s blood oath to protect whomever I send. You’ll have his guards, and they will care for you as if you were their own.”

“You trust him?” Ryan asked, his gaze measured and assessing.

“I spent a few months in Hudson River when I left here. Brett gave me a place and he didn’t mind a Lone Wolf staying until I got my feet under me. He helped me get my first job and found someone to teach me some trade skills. The only reason I left Hudson River was because he couldn’t have an unbound dominant of my strength in his territory—it was causing issues. But he gave me money and a fresh start. He didn’t owe me any of those things.”

A good Alpha didn’t need an excuse for kindness. Mason didn’t say it aloud, but Owen heard the words. Dalton had shown Mason a courtesy he could never imagine being repaid, one that earned him no special privileges and one, Owen would bet, he wasn’t calling in now.

Instead, the reason Mason considered his request was his relationship with the other Alpha.

“That said, I won’t force anyone, Emma. It has to be your choice. I won’t ask Gillian unless you think she’s ready.”

Owen’s relief at that statement was short-lived because the healer said, “She is. She has been for months. Her title of journeyman is more a courtesy than anything else. I think this might be a good experience, but I worry about sending her into danger.”

“Agreed,” Mason said. “But Brett is aware. He won’t let Gillian out of his sight. If you have no objections, I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“The hell you will.” Owen’s words slammed into the silence with the ring of challenge, and the tension in the room altered perceptibly. Mason swung around to face him, and Owen met his gaze and held it.

Over his dead body would he let Mason send Gillian away from Willow Bend.

Chapter Two

Gillian Whitford sat cross-legged on the porch swing, eyes closed and head tilted back. She’d delivered three babies in the past twenty-four hours. While the work of a healer included far more responsibility than the birthing room, she loved acting as midwife. Of all the tasks she’d learned at Emma’s side, delivering a baby was by far her favorite.

Babies were the most wonderful creatures on the planet. Soft, squiggly faces, and healthy, howling lungs that filled the air with their cries. Leaving the womb was a traumatic journey no one needed to remember, yet she treasured each and every experience.

When those babies arrived so close together, she had to race from home to home without a moment of rest. The corners of her mouth curved. Even exhausted, she couldn’t help but grin. Two boys and one girl joined the Willow Bend pack, all healthy and filled with vitality. Only one task remained, and she’d given herself the time to return to her cottage house and shower before traveling to announce the new arrivals to the Alpha.

The need to feel clean and refreshed was only an excuse to look her best for Owen Chase. The elusive Hunter would be at Mason’s for the council meeting. Since Mason won the Alpha challenge, he’d gathered his senior people together for an open meeting once per month. Everyone in the pack was welcome and now and again they would drift in. Normally, Gillian would attend, but make her apologies to leave early.

She loved to see Owen, but his steadfast refusal to notice her grew harder and harder to bear.
Which is why I’m sitting here, prolonging the inevitable.
With a sigh, she stared at the darkened street. The sounds of families nearby were a quiet hum to her senses. The pack was healthy, the people were happy, and contentment filled in the void of their lives for everyone except Gillian.

Restlessness invaded her, growing with each month that passed. Three months before, she’d outright propositioned Owen.
And the less I think about that, the better.
Her wolf stretched with her as she stood. She could feel the fur inside her skin. What they needed was a good, long run. But running meant chancing another encounter with Owen alone, and one humiliation was enough for a lifetime.

Go tell Mason about the babies then come home and sleep.
It seemed the logical and safest idea. Jogging down the steps, she took a path around her house and through the narrow opening to the field. Just a few hundred yards separated her street from Mason’s, and the thick verdant greenbelt between the neighborhoods served as a virtual wilderness for the young of the pack.