Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Agnar

Blake and Levi hovered over the prone form of the sleeping woman. This wasn't how he wanted to introduce their new mother, but then, the night had gone straight to hell quickly and it was a miracle they were getting an introduction at all.

He'd shifted, and even bloody and barely standing, his whole body a prison of sheer torture, he'd taken up his unconscious mate and carried her out of the cave. He'd walked them through the desert, naked, all the way back to his house. The boys locked the door when he wasn't there, and he'd had to bang on it severely before a sleepy-eyed, grouchy Blake tore it open. He'd been shocked to see his father in the state he was in, but at ten, he knew how brutal their life could be and he'd wordlessly opened the door and locked it after he'd stumbled in.

Agnar deposited Prairie Rose onto his bed and then he'd gone straight to the kitchen where he had a whole cabinet of medical supplies.

By then, Blake had shaken his brother awake and Levi was there, chestnut hair pushed up on the one side of his head, rubbing sleep out of the stark gray eyes that were so much like his father's.

Blake had a change of clothes in hand. Agnar was good at shutting down any kind of emotion, but he couldn't stop the twinge of pride and pain he felt at his son acting so grown up. A ten-year-old shouldn't have to witness his own father torn half apart and find it so ordinary that they didn't ask a single question before immediately throwing himself into cleanup mode.

Agnar slipped a pair of black boxers on and set the rest of the clothes on the kitchen table beside the first aid kits. Several, because they were often needed. It was a long drive through the desert and hospitals were something that not many of them were willing to do for obvious reasons.

"Shower first," Blake said, bending his head to assess the bleeding. "No. This one." He pointed to a nasty series of bite wounds that started high up on his neck and ended on his shoulder. How he hadn't had his jugular torn out was beyond him. Skill, maybe, but more like luck. "This one needs to be stitched. It's deep. It's bleeding."

They were all bleeding, but he agreed with that assessment. He threw on some iodine and threaded the needle for his son. Blake had put on a brave face so far, but when he had to slick that needle in and out of his father's skin to do up the nasty gashes the best he could, his hands shook. There were other spots that were leaking, puddling on the floor. He must have left a trail to the house. Were there some wondering if their alpha would live to see morning? Were they already picking out a new leader? They'd be disappointed that he didn't die. Come morning, he'd be a different man.

He'd lost his belief in a unified pack after being set on by five wolves and nearly stabbed in the back by his own beta. He'd left them all there in a state of disarray and chaos. Come morning, there'd be a reckoning, and whoever survived wasn't going to like it. He'd let them live, but they'd never see the inside of pack walls again. And as for Alexander, if he survived having his limb shorn away like fleece off a sheep, he'd wish he hadn't.

"What happened?" Blake finally gave in to his curiosity.

Levi padded across the kitchen to the fridge and poured three glasses of milk. He silently brought them all to the table, balancing them with care. The last thing Agnar wanted was milk. His stomach roiled, but he drained the glass anyway.

Blake ignored the milk until he was done, then he picked up the glass and took a long drag. Levi drained half of his and didn't bother to wipe the milk mustache away. He pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat across the square table, studying Agnar and his brother with undisguised interest, waiting for what was sure to be a good story.

"I was challenged."

Blake hesitated, glass in hand. "Are you still alpha?"

"Of course." Any father wanted his sons to believe in his strength, but he also didn't want them to be afraid. It was bad enough that they were seeing him bleed all over the kitchen, looking little better than a package of ground beef. "Five of them set on me."

Neither boy expected that. They shared a disbelieving look with each other. "Why?"

"Some people here don't like the peace."

"Five at once, though?" Even a ten-year-old was clearly disgusted. "That's not how we do a challenge."

"It was either fight them or lose the confidence of the entire pack. Much of being a leader is what people perceive you to be. You have to be strong, and you have to fight, even knowing that you won't win."

"But you could have died!" Levi's eyes welled with tears.

His boys were tough as they came. They both knew how to hunt, were well trained with a battle axe, and were coming along in their hand-to-hand combat and martial arts. Blake wanted to be a healer one day or a wiseman. He had the head for it and the talent. He hadn't started training with Tecchus yet, but he would within the next few months. Agnar wanted to wait, even though Blake's interest in healing never had wavered. If anything, it only grew stronger over the years. He'd doubled his interest in herbs and was pouring through books on anatomy.

Blake kept his feelings close, but it was no secret to Agnar that he didn't believe in killing and despised war. Did that disappoint him as a father? Of course not. You could still be a great warrior in a skill that was honed and never used and let the mind rule instead.

Levi loved his lessons. He loved play-fighting. He loved hunting. He wasn't the least bit interested in lore or medicine, but he was enthralled by nature. He was so curious about every bird and insect he saw, about the way the rocks formed, how fossils came to be, and he had endless questions about space.

"I didn't, though."

Blake sensed there was more. "What else?"

"Alexander tried to stab me after it was over. Unchallenged."

Levi gasped and reached for Blake's hand.

"That's very… historic." Blake might be obsessed with medicine, but he also loved ancient history, particularly ancient Rome. "And utterly cowardly. Your own beta?"

"I've known for some time that he wasn't to be trusted. He probably worked up the wolves already restless in peace time, to resort to open challenge. He wanted to make sure I didn't come out the other side."

"If they'd won, they would have come for us."

A black sensation roared through his head. He should have made sure Alexander was dead before he left. He shouldn't have been merciful. His only thought was getting out of there, not knowing how injured he was, but in pain all over, before he collapsed for everyone to see. He needed to get himself and his mate somewhere private.

Blake was right. And if those men had come, led by Alexander, they wouldn't have been merciful to his children. He was the first alpha who had not killed a former alpha's family when he won. During his contest, Vespar wouldn't have stopped until he was dead and so the fight had gone on until it was the last man standing. That had been him, and he became the new Phaethon alpha.

"I had no choice but to win, then. As long as I'm alpha, you're both safe. If I ever think this place is too dangerous for you, I'll send you away."

"Where? Where would we go?" Levi didn't like the thought of being separated from him. He rushed to him and threw his arms around his neck, heedless of all the wounds. Agnar didn't even notice the pain. Blake was more careful, setting his hand on his father's knee.

"Up north. Wyoming. The new peace. My new mate comes from a large pack. They would take you and keep you safe. Even if the peace pact is with me, they would provide a home for any wolf seeking sanctuary, I'm certain. They're good people. But there are good people here too. The majority aren't like the ones who challenged me tonight, and certainly none are like Alexander. He's been an embittered bad seed, growing into a poisonous plant that spreads toxins to others for a long time."

"Why didn't you just banish him?"

He stroked Levi's hair with tenderness. "If I banished everyone who is bitter, hardened, and has a different opinion than me, we'd have no pack. I'm trying to create a world where you and your generation can grow up without knowing the taste of blood and the fear of the sword. Where you don't have to fear that your children will be stolen or your mate… killed."

Both boys bowed their heads. They could barely remember their mother, gone six years ago, taken in one of the many raids before he was ever alpha. Losing Breanne was the motivation he needed to change the conversation in his head from wishing things could be different, especially for his children, to finding a way to make a different world for them.

"I know things are hard here, but with hard work, I know it can be better. I hope that by the time you're both grown, what happened to your mother and all the bloodshed and death and unquiet here are things that belong to the past. It's important to remember our past so that we can change our future."

Both boys nodded solemnly. Blake spoke first. "You need to shower so we can get the rest of you salved and bandaged."

"What about our new mom?" Levi asked. He'd called her that ever since he learned months ago that she'd be coming.

Blake would never address her that way, but Levi barely remembered his mother, and other than from the pictures they had and the memories Agnar kept alive for both his sons, Levi wouldn't have known a thing about her.

"She'll be okay. She was drugged by the ones who challenged me, or by Alexander. They just put something in her beer hoping she'd publicly embarrass herself and me included."

"What did they give her?" Blake knew all about herbs.

"I'm not sure." He wasn't, but he didn't need to go into the details about how it had no doubt lowered what sexual inhibitions she might have had.

He'd noticed from the start that her pupils were dilated, and she was breathing too fast, that her pulse throbbed, and she was wet and ready and stared at him like she'd wanted to be fucked in every conceivable way a person could be fucked, right there in front of everyone.

That wouldn't have in itself been cause for embarrassment, because on ceremonial and celebration nights, all sorts of debauchery occurred in sight of anyone who cared to look. And if anything, seeing their alpha claim his mate publicly would have made it appear he was following the old ways.

There must have been another purpose to those herbs. A loosening of the tongue, maybe. Perhaps it was just meant to induce silly, carefree behavior. What Alexander would have wished was that Prairie Rose made a spectacle of herself, challenged their pack ideas and ideals, spoke out loudly against the things she didn't like or didn't believe in, decried the warrior ethos, and then passed out in an undignified heap. It would have proved how unfit and weak she was, especially as an alpha's mate. Any little weakness would have been picked apart and used like a blade against him.

"She's going to be fine, though."

"Why was she covered in blood?" Blake was sharp. Too sharp for any normal ten-year-old. "Was it yours?"

"No. She stopped one wolf who challenged me from bleeding out. Tore off her dress and helped his mate. They'll be banished, but he'll live, I think. Alexander tried to stab me. He didn't succeed because she grabbed an axe and distracted him."

"How?" Levi wasn't going to let it go either.

"She swung it and it sunk into his arm." Just about cleaved the thing clean off. He hadn't finished the job, but Alexander was a tough bastard. He'd probably survive with just one arm and live to haunt him. He wouldn't go quietly.

"She did?" Both boys were awed. A little too much.

"She saved your life," Blake pointed out.

That stuck like the blade that hadn't landed. He now owed his new mate, a mere wisp of a woman who he'd thought a spoiled princess, his life. She'd saved it in front of everyone, and even though Alexander had no right to try to harm him outside of a fair challenge, the first one hadn't been fair either. All his plans to embarrass them had failed. The challenge failed. Exposing Prairie Rose as a wilted, timid little flower shaking in the wind, someone who would never thrive or fit in with the pack and would always be a source of dissention and tension, had failed when she'd nearly taken one of his limbs.

While heavily drugged.

But still. Allowing himself to be very nearly stabbed in the back and having a tiny slip of a woman save his life wasn't exceptionally manly. No doubt his new mate would have no words to justify what she'd see as an idiotic statement. She didn't understand the old warrior's oath of death before dishonor. She'd dismiss it as a token statement made by those who thought it was easier to die than to live. She'd probably accuse him of being one of those people. He had life and breath, but he'd told her he'd never love her because he refused to fully live that life again in the name of a warrior's honor. That wasn't what he was doing, but she'd probably see it that way.

"I'll go shower now, boys. When I'm done, you'll bandage me up?"

Blake nodded. He started going through the kits, taking out rolls of gauze and bandages, more iodine and rubbing alcohol, ointments and salves, needles and thread for stitching.

He glanced towards where Prairie Rose lay sleeping, her breathing was steady. It was clear that whatever she'd been given was still affecting her, but it was more a drunken slumber than unconsciousness. He was pretty sure she'd be okay.

"I'll make you breakfast," Levi promised, puffing out his chest because he was proud to be of use.

"Thank you both. Without your help, I'd never be ready to face the pack in the morning."

And face them he would. No matter what shape he was in, he couldn't let what happened last night, stand unchallenged. He'd once vowed that he'd give his life for the pack, and he very nearly had. He was still alpha, and he needed to address his pack and regroup, even if he truly wished that the challenge and betrayal of just hours ago had never happened at all.

It had and it would have to be dealt with before anything else.