Chapter 1

W ulfric snarled and snapped at Brody, anger coursing through him. "How dare you," he growled. "I'm the alpha of the Ironpaws, damn it!"

Brody grinned maniacally and circled him in the small clearing on the edge of the river. "Correction. You were. I'm taking over."

Wulfric shook his head, blood splattering from where it dripped into his eye. He lunged, snapping his elongated jaws. He didn't have time for an alpha challenge, as illegal as this one may be.

It was his job to see the tribe through the winter. The Elders had said it was going to be the worst winter in centuries, and they'd been right so far. They still had weeks to go before spring.

Brody twisted and clamped down on his shoulder. The stupid pup wasn't trained enough to manage a throat attack, but Wulfric turned and took advantage. His bloody teeth latched awkwardly onto the back of Brody's neck and ripped the wolf off. Brody's jaws tore a chunk of Wulfric's fur and flesh as he went flying.

Wulfric didn't whimper. He'd fought many wars over the years, not that he could remember any from the time before. Pain was as familiar as food and almost as necessary. Both would keep him alive.

He limped back, watching Brody warily as he mentally assessed both their wounds. His head pounded from where the wolf and his two friends had ambushed him with a club. One of them was dead and the other lay near a tree, staring silently as he either bled out or healed.

Logically, he knew he'd only been defending himself. But his chest ached at the deaths of his people, the betrayal, the confusion.

Wulfric focused on Brody. "But why?"

Brody shook his head, his eyes glowing with rage as he stalked back to Wulfric. "You don't get it, do you? You walk around like a god, lording your power as alpha over the rest of us. We're tired of it."

A stab of anger made him growl. He played with the young ones, led the youths on hunts, trained the warriors, kept the peace with the other tribe leaders, and took care of the Elders. When had he lorded power over any of them?

He rolled his shoulders, testing his weight on his injured front leg. Pain stabbed him like a knife, but he refused to take his eyes off his opponent. "How was I abusing my power as alpha? Who thinks this?"

Brody howled, the sound echoing off the dark trees. "Butch, for starters, and now he's dead, thanks to you."

He winced and panted, staying as still as possible. He didn't want Brody to realize how injured his foot was or how much those words hurt. He had worked for years to protect and honor the people who had taken him in and loved him unconditionally, if harshly.

He would not be goaded into feeling guilty. "Butch's death is on your head. What did you expect when you ambushed the alpha?"

"I expected more than this!" Brody roared, blood dripping from his fangs as he prowled back and forth with hackles raised. "When I signed on to be a Growler, I expected more than this isolation and tyranny."

Wulfric arched a bushy brow, the movement barely visible in their wolf forms. New Growlers were welcomed with open arms because it was an instant family. "What isolation? Our family is enormous. We fill the entire lower half of the Feral Forest."

"And that's the fucking problem," Brody snarled, shifting onto his back legs as he prepared to pounce. "We've outgrown the forest. We're bursting at the seams. And on top of that, we're not family, are we? I miss my actual family, my flesh and blood. I'm tired of hiding, of giving up who I am."

Brody lunged half-heartedly, testing Wulfric's reaction times. "The time for hiding is over. Busparia's defenses are in ruins, the soldiers have all fled back home–except for us! We want to go home!"

Wulfric jumped back, wincing at the pain as he balanced on three legs. "The Growlers are our home now. You knew that when you accepted the blessing of the Elders."

Brody barked a laugh. "A blessing? Not if it keeps me from my family."

Wulfric froze, confusion and blood loss making his head ache. "What family are you talking about?"

Brody didn't give him time to ask more questions. He launched into the air with a roar, and Wulfric twisted to the side. A massive paw landed a lucky blow to his temple, sending him out of the controlled roll. Wulfric hit a tree and grunted in pain, coming up on three weak legs.

Brody prowled closer, drool dripping from his muzzle. "Busparia's new queen has nearly destroyed the country, and we're worried about our families. They're no longer safe. Now is the time to strike, to save them, yet we can't just bring them back here. We're too cramped as it is, but in Busparia… they're still waiting for us. The land is ripe for the taking."

Something within him twisted at the mention of Busparia. Faint feelings of a past he no longer remembered threatened to drown him in sorrow. "No," he said to the memories.

"No? That's it?" Brody growled. "See, this is why you're a terrible alpha. How I've survived five years like this is beyond me."

"We're not going anywhere." Wulfric shifted to keep the tree on his bad side. It would help protect him. If Brody was smart, he'd attack the weak leg.

Wulfric tried to diffuse the situation. "We need to talk this through rationally."

"There's no more time to lose. Home is right there on the other side of the forest, and they may need us to save them from the queen or her monsters." Brody's mouth twisted in anger, his features harsh in the cold, crisp sunlight.

He snarled and leaped in the air, but Wulfric spun behind the tree, pain lancing through him. Brody hit the pine, the sharp whine of pain piercing his ears.

Wulfric winced, that sound an echo of his failure as a leader. He was supposed to protect them, not harm them. "Stop before you hurt yourself. Remember the gift and be grateful for a second chance at life."

Brody snorted. "I know, I know. We were all dying soldiers who otherwise wouldn't have made it home."

Brody stopped, and his beady, black eyes peered into Wulfric's gaze, the emotion and yearning making Wulfric's breath catch in his throat.

Then the anger returned to Brody's face as he lowered his muzzle. "And what's the point of a second life if I can't see my family ever again?" Brody spat vehemently, anger burning hell-hot in his gaze as he clambered slowly to his feet.

The pressure on Wulfric's mind increased, memories fluttering just out of reach. He shook his head and relayed the message they'd heard over and over since being turned. "We can't go into Busparia. They'll hunt us down and destroy everything we know."

"Not everything." Brody's lip curled in disdain. "I know a lot more than just this damn forest. In fact, there are several of us who kept our memories, alpha ."

He sneered the word and spat blood on the ground, turning to face Wulfric, stretching to test his injuries again.

Wulfric's body shivered in the cold, but his mind was frozen on the words. How had he kept his memories? That was the price of being turned into a Growler. The Elders had been performing that ritual for hundreds of years, but somehow Brody hadn't paid the price?

It didn't make sense. His head ached, and his body seemed to slow even as his heart raced at the danger.

He should end this farce of a battle. It wasn't worth calling it an alpha challenge, as it wasn't within the bounds of the law. Wulfric's shoulders stiffened, and he lifted his head, breathing deeply through the pain as he circled the tree. The pounding in his ankle kept his mind in the moment, even though it tried to draw him into the yawning chasm of darkness.

Damn it, he was supposed to uphold the law and keep them safe, love them as they loved him. Wulfric took a shuddering breath, the scent of blood flooding him, calling to him to turn feral.

Focus, Wulfric, focus. Try to reason with him.

"If we go into Busparia, we'll either kill or be killed. And we're not going to attack innocent civilians outside the forest who may see us as a threat. That will just keep the fear of Growlers going."

Brody took two steps closer, blood dripping steadily onto the pine needle covered ground. "The new queen and the general are taking control of more than just the capital. This winter is the perfect time for us to finally leave these cursed woods and go home."

"It's too cold."

"Exactly! It's keeping everyone inside, so we can slip into the country unnoticed. We're protectors, soldiers, and warriors, but we're stuck hiding in these woods like outlaws when our families are being killed in their own homes."

Wulfric shuffled on his feet, keeping his weight on his three legs as the dizziness increased. "That's not our home anymore. There's no home left for us in Busparia."

Brody's toothy grin widened, red with blood. "Perhaps not for you...but if you won't lead us home, I will. Step down as alpha. This is your last chance."

Wulfric shook his head, tightness pressing on his chest as his vision swam. Blood poured into his eyes, and he shook his head again so he could see. But he was too slow.

Brody attacked, and this time, his aim was true. His jaws clamped around Wulfric's neck as he viciously ripped at flesh and fur. Claws dug into muscle. Wulfric twisted, rolling them both on the ground.

He pinned Brody and dislodged him, smacking him into the dirt with a whimper. Then another wolf slammed into Wulfric's wounded side, sending him sprawling. Spots swirled with white lights behind his eyelids, the gurgling of the river the only sound to be heard over the pounding of his heart. No birds, no woodland chatter. All else was still.

He blinked, seeing double. No, two more wolves had joined the fight and paced beside Brody as he rose to his feet.

"Finish him," Brody said.

Wulfric's breathing grew ragged as his head spun. He'd seen these two wolves with Brody in the past. Why hadn't he opened his senses to inspect the area in a wider arc? They prowled to him, and he assessed his wounds, the situation, his surroundings.

He wouldn't be able to take on two more uninjured wolves. He needed to find medicine or magic. They wouldn't let him, and it wasn't guaranteed that the Elders would help him, either.

Even though the alpha challenge wasn't official and was completely illegal, he had no way of telling if the Elders would even side with him. They would likely say it was the will of their patron goddess and let him bleed out.

Where could he go? The gurgling river was the only sound in the night. The river. It would take him further from the Elders and their medicine, but he would at least be away from Brody and his minions. It was his only chance.

With a groan, he rolled to the edge of the bank and dropped off the ledge into the rushing current below.

The frigid, icy water enveloped him, numbing some of the pain. Gasping for air, he thrashed weakly with three legs, letting the raging water carry him away. He struggled to think, his mind became hazy from blood loss and pain, and his body grew weaker by the second.

Where could he go to lick his wounds?

Think, Wulfric, think. The river led through the center of the forest to the western border with Glathen, before turning more directly south and spilling into the sea. He had to get out of the river before the turn. The water flowed faster, and he grunted as he slammed into a rock. His vision blurred as he fought for air.

Get out of the river. And go where?

His vision began to darken on the edges. He only had a few minutes left.

Growlers avoided the old druid's cottage in the center of the Feral Forrest. It was forbidden, off-limits, part of a treaty from years ago.

Maybe the Elders had lied about that though? If Brody remembered his family and his past in Busparia, maybe the Elders had lied about the old druid too?

If the druid didn't kill him, she might offer shelter, warmth, medicine, and magic. The rushing water grew louder, and his heart raced, even as his body became dangerously cold.

He needed time to heal and grow stronger before he could reclaim his place as alpha and sort out the problem with Brody.

But first, he had to survive the waterfalls and escape the river before it turned south. Water swirled and tossed him from side to side. He fought against the darkness, desperately calling on all the spirits and gods he could remember as he clawed his way to the bank.