Bound

The Northern Alpha

CLAIRE POV

My little delegation approached the border in loose black linens from a nearby stash, dropping some spares that appeared to be for Tammy and Heinz, who opted to stay in their wolves. The clothes were really for me when I chose to drop in.

Sandra stood with the Triplets behind her, Tammy and Hanz flanking the triangle. I watched from the eyes of the Northern Alpha, who was keeping an open link with what I assumed to be his Beta, tucked behind a magnificently girthy oak. The Northern Pack delegates were in a similar formation, but all as wolves.

For a long minute no one moved. The faintest breeze stirred up pine needles and carried the aching sound of ancient trees shifting ever so slightly. I held my breath and resisted the urge to lift my head from the sleeping posture.

Then the opposing Alpha shook from shoulders to tail, and rippled into human form. A long breath of feather flavored air later, his entourage followed suit. The outer wolf dropped a bag at the Alpha's feet with dull brown leather loincloths for himself and the other humans. Their lean wiry bodies were twisted landscapes of muscle, bone and scars. Torn ears and missing fingers on all except the Alpha.

An Alpha that kept his body pristine whilst his warriors were maimed was either cruel or weak. He had a power profile that would have easily regrown the tissue maimed by violence. It wouldn't even take a week. Because healing injuries isn't just about aesthetics. Form follows function; as the form of a body structure is altered, so is the function. Nerves pinched unexpectedly and bones ached with the change in weather. We may be able to grow entirely new creatures in our wombs, but break an ankle...and it will never work the same way again.

Unless your Alpha deigns to aid the healing process with their power profile. It was one of the benefits of binding yourself, body, mind, and soul with a pack. The mark of a thriving society was measured by how it treated the weakest of its members. If this was how they treated the strongest of the pack, I shuddered to think of how those most in need of help were abused.

I squinted at the shadows under my wing with judgement. The exchange was meant to work both ways, but this joker appeared to only be withdrawing from the pack account.

Which was the opposite of myself. I don't think I had ever drawn from the pack, and was not actually entirely sure how. The way I healed my charges was a little different, but according to Becky, it was all just a similar flavor of power exchange.

"Where, is the. Fifth, Son?" The Alpha growled with a voice that crackled like gravel crunching underfoot. He used the right words in the right order but put stresses on the wrong syllables and used pauses all the wrong places. It was jarring to listen to and puzzling to decipher.

"Challenged and defeated." Sandra stated in a flat tone. The Fifth Son had been her mate and she had declared war to avenge his death. Just because she had no little recollection of any of this didn't make it any easier. I linked a soft mental nudge, and to my surprise, she leaned into it. It was interesting to see what came together, when other things appeared to be falling apart.

The Alpha of the Northern Pack did not react immediately, which was a reaction in itself. The normal manifestation of grief presents like a sucker punch that reaches in through the gut and crushes the heart. But this guy just cocked his head, bright eyes calculating away behind stark features.

Eventually the head shook in a mockery of sadness, even as the ghost of a smile lit up the downcast expression. Greasy brown hair plastered to the hollow divots carving out the bone structure of his face. If he spent most of his time as a wolf, maybe he just didn't have a handle on the nuances of human expression.