FIFTY

Xander

SELFISHNESS, PREJUDICE, APATHY, wariness, uncertainty, and hate.

Those are the predominant feelings I sensed through my alpha eyes when I cast my wolf's gaze out over the audience. And my mate is telling me I need to have hope for these wolves?

I've found so much not to be hopeful for that I turn to her and raise my brows in question. She gives me a lopsided smile and a bob of her head. Shaking my head, I straighten my spine and infuse myself with her hope.

"I was not planning on speaking tonight," I say, glancing at my mother and Bruce. "However, I can understand why our leaders have asked me to. I'd like to start by sharing some information that I've only learned recently. But first, since we're lucky enough to have with us, Councilman Hogan, the Alpha of the Midwest Pack"—I set my eyes on Hogan and offer him a deferential grin— "I was wondering if he could tell us how wolf packs determine what we're to be taught during our shifter schooling year."

He leans back in his chair and tilts his head to the side, his brows creased in contemplation. "Would you care to elaborate on your question?"

Clasping my hands in front of me, I dip my chin. "Certainly. Is the shifter schooling curriculum the same across all packs in the US, or does it vary from pack to pack?"

He rubs the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger before folding his arms over his barrel chest, the muted vertical stripes of his gray dress shirt failing to trim the width of his figure. He answers, "The content is consistent across the nation. The delivery and method of dissemination is at the discretion of the pack alpha."

"So then, if you would, can you tell me and everyone here what the Midwest Pack's curriculum says about, say, eagle-shifters or shifters of a feline origin?"

He shakes his head in agitation and exhales a harsh breath. "As I said, the content is the same. We do not teach our pups about the specifics of other subspecies." Cutting a calculated glare at my mate, he tuts. "It would be like humans learning about chimpanzees—the less-evolved version of themselves. Nothing to gain there."

"Interesting," I reply, ruffling my fingers through my hair in an attempt to quell my ire about how he just labeled my mate as less evolved. I roll a shoulder, trying to ease the tension held there and counter. "Then our leaders don't think it's important for us to know that most feline-shifters have some sort of control over static electricity? Enough control that they're able to generate and use it? Or that some snake-shifters can not only administer poison but also pull it from a person or a victim? Or that many of the higher avian-shifters have the ability to telescope their sight, zooming in from far distances? Or that bear-shifters can block certain shifter powers not only for themselves but for those they're bonded to?" Before he can answer I ask, "What about shifter laws that extend beyond the pack? You're a councilmember, how much does your pack know about the laws that govern us all?"

"The only laws that matter to wolves are pack laws," he spits out, narrowing his brownish-yellow eyes in warning.

I raise my brows and counter, "I think my father would disagree—that is, if he could. Because if pack laws were all that mattered, then he'd have set himself free. He'd have continued to drain his luna's power until she eventually died. He'd have continued to use and abuse the wolves under him for his own personal gain. But thankfully the Shifter High Council rules by a set of laws that supersede pack law. Laws that are in place to protect all shifters."

"What are you getting at, boy?" he growls.

I let the boy dig go and instead look out into the crowd of wolves. The heads of the younger generation are spinning around the hall, looking both shocked and suspicious, while the older generation is either staring at me with faces made of stone or shamefully refusing to meet my gaze.

"It's simple really. I'm getting at the truth. The truth of our existence, of the forces that make us different from humans. The truth that is self-evident when we're faced with it. We may be shifters that thrive in packs, but we are all still shifters. Pack law isn't the highest law of the land, nor should it be." I cast a finger over the wolves and declare, "If you want me as your alpha, then our pack will be one that follows the laws of all shifters and the laws of the divine." Tapering my gaze on Brian, I assert, "A pack based in truth, in reality. One that does not and will not spread lies like those Brian Callahan has spread about my relationship status to the press."

Brian swipes a hand over his shaved head and lifts a shoulder, grunting, "I told the reporter what the pack needed to hear. That you are single." He pauses and averts his gaze before forcibly returning it back to me and holding his chin higher. "At least according to us wolves."

"You see, Brian. . ." I snicker wagging a finger at him. "That kind of thinking right there is what can take a strong pack and make it weak. What a pack needs is the truth, even if that truth is something uncomfortable for them to hear." Standing tall and sewing my words together with my alpha power, letting their wolves hear and feel my wolf's intention, I proclaim, "I am an alpha. As such, I will only lead a pack that I can have confidence in. Confidence in their strength and fortitude. I need a pack that I believe is strong enough to hear the truth, to accept what is." Taking a few steps to the edge of the stage, I jump off, landing on silent feet right in front of Brian. My jaw clenches, and I point a finger at him, seething. "If you dare speak lies about myself, my true-mate, or my pack-mates again, I will consider it a formal challenge." With eyes glowing blue and white, I grab his shirt collar and yank him up to standing. Brian's eyeballs bulge, and he gasps in surprise, losing his balance to the point that he clutches my forearm. I clip out, "Are we clear?"

Brian regains his footing and hastily stammers, "Yes... yes, Alpha."

Nodding, I shove him back down into his seat. The pew creaks under the force. Rolling my neck and shoulders, I return to the stage, but instead of climbing back up, I lean against the edge of it, staying at their level. Taking on a casual posture, with my thumbs hooked through the belt loops of my jeans, and crossing my ankles, I continue, "I want to lead a pack that is still connected to the divine. I want to ensure that our leaders do not curtail or omit information when teaching our younger generations. I want the younger generations to understand they have more options and choices than they think they currently do." Thinking about my father and how it felt when I woke to find his forced bond on me, my gaze becomes hard. I make eye contact with my mother, Bruce, Brian, their wives and their daughters, and Councilman Hogan. I grind out, "I want to abolish all half-bonds, altered bonds, and forced bonds from our pack." Raking my fingers through my hair, knowing that I need to lead by example and speak my truth, I take a large inhale and push the words out. "I personally know what it feels like to wake up from an unconscious state and find a forced half-bond inside you, one that you fought off for years, only to still have your choice taken from you. Taken from you at the age of ten." I pace in front of the stage and shake my head, proclaiming, "All individuals should always have power over their own choices. The only bonds I want in my pack are those gifted by the divine and that are mutual."

My gaze finds my mate. I exhale. "I am divinely bonded to my true-mate. She is a royal fox-shifter, and it was she who saved me from the unwanted half-bond that was forced on me—a half-bond that was put there in an effort to control me and my future." Turning back to the audience, I stand tall with wide feet. My wolf stands with me as we declare, "Let me be crystal clear on this. I am bonded and registered as such under Duchessa Wilhelmina Agnese Mahoney-Volpella, as are Beta Jaxson Louis Benton and Beta Ethan Edgar Emerson. We will not take on any other mates. Period. Nor will we be members of, let alone lead, a pack that shuns, denies, or holds prejudice against our mate, or any other pack member's divinely chosen true-mate, regardless of subspecies." Turning my attention back to Bruce, I state, "Truth. Respect for the divine. An overhaul of our entire shifter education curriculum to include information on other subspecies and shifter laws outside of pack law. Reeducation of all those members whose education was missing those vital pieces of information. Freedom of choice. Acceptance of all divinely chosen true-mates. Abolishment of all forced bonds, including manufactured bonds. A pack based on lifting each other up, on finding happiness and supporting that endeavor in their fellow pack members. A pack that stands by one another for each other instead of against an enemy may it be a species, person, pack, or perception. This is what I want."

"You can't just overhaul the education of an entire pack!" Councilman Hogan exclaims, his eyes boring into mine. "You have to bring the issue up at the National Wolf Pack Conference to discuss it with other pack leaders."

There's a clearing of a throat from where my pack-mates are seated, and we all turn in that direction. Elder Allan has his hand raised and his eyes on my mother. He inquires, "If I may respond, Luna Ophelia?"

My mother motions her arm for him to rise. "Speak, Elder Allan."

Elder Allan stands up and gazes at me and Councilman Hogan. Pushing his glasses up, he states, "According to pack law so long as our curriculum includes the core information as agreed upon by all pack leaders, any additional information is allowed. Furthermore, I know for a fact that at least two other wolf packs in the US are following this structure of additional education. They're still teaching their pups about other subspecies and general shifter laws."

"Because they've allowed non-wolves into their packs," Councilman Hogan counters with disdain. "An issue we're currently trying to rectify."

Wait, what did he just say? Staring directly at Councilman Hogan, I arch a brow and request, "How many wolf packs in the US currently have members that are non-wolves?"

Councilman Hogan's face reddens in anger. His lips press into a thin line, and his arms hug tighter around his body while he shimmies his hips farther back into his seat. He refuses to answer.

I turn to Bruce, who is standing near the back of the stage, and tip my chin to him. "Bruce, you attended last year's National Wolf Pack Conference with my father. Surely you must know how many wolf packs currently have non-wolves as members."

Bruce steps up to answer when suddenly a long, deep growl reverberates through the entire pack house, and Bruce stumbles. My wolf comes to the surface with enough power I have to dig my heels in to stay grounded. Through his eyes, I'm able to view the alpha waves of coercion Hogan is directing at Bruce. Bruce's face contorts, and his eyes glow like a black star sapphire, while the veins in his neck press against his flushed flesh in his effort to fight against Hogan's wolf.

Bruce and my father were bonded for more than two decades. They had built a trust over that time along with a beta's innate willingness to support their bonded alpha. As an alpha, Hogan can draw on another wolf's power, but without that bond and without him being accepted as the wolf's alpha, he must exert much power and finesse. His wolf has to connect with Bruce's. He has to determine Bruce and his wolf's emotional needs. Once done, he can then exploit those needs and manipulate Bruce and his wolf into bowing, either by stroking the brain's pleasure centers or by showing him and his wolf how strong of an alpha Hogan is: what it's like without him and with him, what he could do for the pack with that strength. It's invasive and not something that should be done without consent, yet with wolves, sometimes force of will over one's own consent can be appealing. There's strength in a bully if he's your leader.

My wolf howls out in rage that an alpha is trying to silence another wolf and use his power to keep the truth from getting out. "Councilman Hogan," I snarl pushing my alpha waves against his. "You are not alpha here. You do not have the right to interact with our wolves in this manner."

"These wolves have no alpha," he retorts while still pushing into Bruce's mind. "If they had an alpha to be loyal to, this wouldn't be happening. But it is happening. Perhaps this will show all of us here who should be alpha."

"Get the fuck out of my head!" Bruce pants a growl while sweat beads on his reddened forehead. "You're not my alpha," he protests in a high-pitched voice.

"Then answer the question," Councilman Hogan taunts, intensifying the amount of power he's using on Bruce.

"There are—" Bruce starts then he falls to his knees with a resounding thud, his hands clutching the sides of his head as an agonizing scream is ripped from his throat.

My wolf howls out again, urging me to save Bruce's wolf, to stop what Hogan is doing, to give Bruce another option. I can protect him. Without warning, my body jolts forward with the shove of Little Fox through the bond.

I spin to Billie and am shocked by what I see. She's on her feet, leaning and pressing toward the stage, her small body about to break through the holds Ethan and Jaxson have on her. Her eyes are like a green sun blazing with white-hot, fiery anger, and her face is red and twisted in furious outrage.

He's hurting his wolf , Little Fox snarls through the bond. Stop it . Help Bruce's wolf, or I will, Little Fox demands.

Not having time to wonder about the last part of her statement, only knowing that my wolf and I are more than capable of stopping this abuse, I turn back to Bruce. I won't stand by while another is abused. I won't be like those from my childhood, not when I can do something.

I won't go after Hogan, and I won't be like him either. I will not use coercion on Bruce's wolf. I won't make him do anything. No. What my wolf and I will do is give him an option. The option of our protection.

I vault up onto the stage and casually approach Bruce. My wolf and I know how strong we are. We're confident in our power and ability to protect those who want our protection. I squat down next to Bruce and place a comforting hand on his feverish shoulder.

Could my wolf and I do what we're about to do from where I was standing? Yes. I don't need to physically touch Bruce in order to connect with his wolf. But touching him with my hand, taking the physical steps, putting myself at his side, standing with him—that matters. With my hand on his shoulder, I let my wolf seek entrance, knowing that this will change everything. They all know I'm a strong alpha, stronger than my father, but what they know is a blurred image of what I hold within me. They're unable to discern the height, depth, and width of that power or what I'm truly made of. This will allow Bruce to not only clearly see who my wolf and I are but feel us as well.

His wolf readily lets us in. What we're met with has my stomach dropping with such force that I come to kneeling. My God, what did my father do to his betas? Bruce's wolf is what I'd expect a decades-old, feral wolf-shifter to look like: an emaciated frame poorly hidden under patchy bristles of fur. He howls and whines while his frail body falls and stumbles around like he's in thick mud, unable to find his footing.

Above him, above that inhospitable terrain that is his shifter's mental landscape, is a wide swath of sky. A sky that is split in two. Hogan. The sky over Bruce's wolf is thick with gray clouds, cold with whipping wind, and heavy with rain. The other, just beyond where his wolf is struggling in the already-sodden ground, is a blue sky where a sun shines bright and warm. This is Hogan's wolf's presence trying to seek entrance, trying to convince Bruce's wolf that he only has two options. The sky above us lights up with flashes of lightning, and the rain pouring down intensifies, promising to only further destabilize the land. Just outside where we are, the sun shines. Steam rises from the waterlogged land, drying out the surface with a promise to bring forth the chance of a new life.

When Bruce's wolf turns to mine, I find a glimmer of hope. Hope in the hard set of his eyes and the baring of his yellowed teeth. He's still got fight in him.

My wolf sets his paw down and begins to slowly change the mental terrain, taking the unstable sinking ground and solidifying it with our presence, our support. I've never done anything like this before. I've only ever connected as an alpha with my pack-mates and Wilhelmina. I've studied and read up on the process of an alpha connecting with his pack, but reading and doing are vastly different. I do what I always do in these situations—I trust my wolf. I trust his instincts and learn. With the ground below our feet hardening, we dig our claws in and send more of ourselves into the floating landscape of Bruce's wolf's mental home. We bring forth dry winds, pushing the rain out of the small area we're in.

When I bonded with Wilhelmina, she had said her mind was like a castle and that our link was a room in that castle. Looking around in Bruce's mind and seeing how my wolf is interacting, rapid understanding dawns on me. If I were to take her view of the mind, then what my alpha wolf is offering Bruce and his wolf is a change in the land where his mental house resides. Unlike my mate, Bruce's mind is much simpler, having been set in its ways for so long. The problem is, that strong mental home he built was placed on a parcel of land that his alpha was supposed to maintain and care for, so his wolves could flourish how they chose. My father didn't just ignore the land but tore up the lawn, cut down the trees, and consumed the crops. With his betas, he entered their houses without invitation and made a mess of their homes, all because he provided the land. That land has now become a sinkhole.

With my wolf's and my energies and our promise of support, his wolf finally stands on ground solid enough for him move and think freely—for his wolf to begin to heal without the risk of sinking. Then hopefully he'll be able to replant and harvest. Scanning the horizon, I see the rain that was once a deluge is gone, and though the sky may still be overcast, at least the ground is one he can take a stance on. Solid and fertile, he has a parcel he can rebuild on.

There's a mental snap, like the cutting of a high-tension steel cable, and I know the process is done. He is one of mine.

My wolf casts one last look at Bruce's wolf, and to my surprise, it feels like he's gazing at him with forgiveness and hope. I abruptly drop my hand from Bruce's shoulder, not wanting my feelings of confusion and wariness to taint the connection made between our shifters.

I'm rocked into awareness by Bruce throwing his head back and shouting out a raw bellow, "THREE! THREE! There are three wolf packs in the US that currently have non-wolf members! The Southwest, the Northwest! And the West!" His eyes fly open, glowing and glowering at Councilman Hogan. "How dare you!" he yells, stumbling to standing and storming toward Councilman Hogan. "How dare you do that to my wolf! Who the fuck do you think you are?" I press up to standing and slowly follow Bruce toward the edge of the stage, staying a little behind and off to the side close to my pack-mates.

Hogan, who must have come to his feet while I was connected with Bruce, meets Bruce's accusing glare head-on. His eyes flick to me for a brief moment, long enough for me to see the anger and what I can only interpret as betrayal or disgust, before returning to Bruce. He takes a moment to collect himself. Patting his red tie down and adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt, he tuts. "It's not who I am now, but who I will be."

"And who is that?" Bruce spits out.

"Why, your new alpha, of course," Hogan replies with a wolfish smile. "This is a pack without an alpha. Wolves need leadership. A pack needs an alpha. It's in our nature. An alphaless pack is not a pack."

"No," I bite out. "You are not taking over this pack."

"Who's going to stop me? Hmm?"

My wolf is practically rabid inside of me. After experiencing the condition of Bruce's wolf, seeing the desolation of his mind and how fragile his sense of life was, my gut twists with an unwanted realization. Hogan tried to silence the truth in order to perpetuate the lies that have been being milled for years. But he did speak honestly about one thing, something that I didn't comprehend the true extent of until I saw it with my own eyes and experienced it with my wolf.

A pack needs an alpha.

Wolves need an alpha. I know I can't stand idly by and let my home pack continue as it has. I can't let the current pack leaders' lies infect more wolves, gain stronger footholds in the wolf community, not when there's something I can do to stop it. My wolf won't have it, and I won't either.

I twist my head around to gaze at my pack-mates, all of whom are on their feet with glowing eyes, holding on tightly to one another. I open the bond and share with them the briefest of images and feelings of what I experienced when I connected with Bruce's wolf. Our shifters quickly respond with a need to take action—particularly Little Fox, who's not just responding to what I've shared but to what other wolves in the room are feeling as well. Pain, hopelessness, and apathy. The three of them simultaneously dip their chins once to me in understanding, acceptance, and support.

I take it at face value, not willing to question if it's more their shifters than their human sides. Because I know. I know what I have to do.

I turn to Hogan and declare, "I am."

His eyes glitter with victory. "Then I challenge you. Alpha wolf to alpha wolf."

"So be it," I respond with a snarl.