USELESS?

13

Jeremiah and Archer meet me and Anthony on the balcony that runs between the two-sided curving staircase leading downstairs. As Anthony and I take the stairs curving to the left, Jeremiah and Archer take the side curving to the right. Our parents wait below us, watching. It reminds me of a mating ceremony, in a way. Perhaps the way Archer and I would have had one, if we had chosen to.

As we reach the bottom, my mother and father hold out their arms, and Archer and I step into their embrace. I notice that, while I'd thought my mother was petite, she matches my 5 feet, 9 inch height. My father simply towers over her, standing a couple of inches taller than even Anthony. We pull apart, and the four of us, together with Jeremiah and Anthony, walk outside to the stretch SUV waiting to take us to the Pack airstrip where their private plane is waiting.

The six of us climb in and sit facing each other. After making sure the partition is up and locked, soundproofing the rest of the vehicle, Anthony suggests that this would be a good time to discuss my training, as the airstrip is about an hour away. We all agree, and my parents look relieved at being able to join the conversation.

"Since we haven't discussed it this week, I was worried you were going to brainstorm without us," my father stated. "Glad to know I was wrong."

"I think we should both train," says Archer. "Most people won't be able to tell us apart unless they get up close, and as long as we train indoors until Hunter has the basics down, no one will comment on us wearing shirts, or not training in wolf form."

Jeremiah starts to object, "but..."

"I kept up with basic strength training and self defense at home," Archer continues. "Father insisted. He's always saying 'A crowned head may have guards, but must be able to defend him-or herself if those guards should fail.'"

"Damn straight." My father interjects. "Plus, most attackers aren't going to expect someone surrounded with guards to be able to fight for themselves."

Anthony smiles wickedly, "better than the ridiculous crap that rogue 'pack' had Hunter spouting." I swat his arm playfully.

"The biggest problem is going to be keeping the reason for his training a secret from the rest of the pack." Jeremiah says. "Enough of our submissives do light strength and self defense training, in both human and wolf, that the beginning stages of Hunter's training in human form won't be that suspicious. Given his past, even continuing past the basic levels the submissives stick to won't be that unusual."

"Well, this is going to be all new for me," I remind them. "I wasn't allowed to do any kind of training at all, before. I didn't have my wolf, either."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," my mother pipes up. "You won't have any bad habits to unlearn."

"Exactly." Adds Anthony, winking at me, "And since you weren't raised as a dominant or warrior, we won't have any of the attitude problems that we usually deal with."

"So, for the first week," Jeremiah says, "I suggest Archer and Hunter spend an hour in the morning, and an hour after lunch in the weight room, and then Hunter spend two hours learning sparring techniques from me after the morning session, and two hours sparring with the submissives after the afternoon session."

My eyes widen, "that's a lot of time training."

"You're going to need it, love." Anthony tells me. "The time between morning and afternoon sessions and dinner, I'm going to arrange for a tutor to teach you something other than those ridiculous laws."

"Good idea," says Father. "Can't forget that aside from being a Guardian, he's also a Luna now, and needs to be well-versed in werewolf history, culture, and civilization, as well as the basics humans learn."

"We're never too old to learn," my mother puts in. "Archer had an excellent education. It wouldn't hurt for him to coach Hunter while they're training until you can find a tutor."

"I'd be happy to." Says Archer, "And I actually have a suggestion on the tutor. There's a werewolf in Father's pack who has just been named an Elder. He graduated a human college by the time he was 18 with a degree in education, then went to a Werewolf school and completed another degree in history in two years. He's 25 now, and has been teaching werewolf studies to the Silver Dawn junior members. If Father would be willing to part with him, that is."

"I think I know the werewolf you're talking about," my father says, "and I'd be happy to ask him as soon as we return. I think he'll agree, as he hasn't found a mate yet, and is beginning to get restless among all the mated pairs in our pack."

"I don't blame him," Anthony says, taking my hand. "I was impatient to find my mate. Father retired and turned the pack over to me when I was 21. My sister found her mate when our father sent her on a pack-related diplomatic trip when we were 19, and decided to stay with his pack. It's just been me and Jeremiah for the last four years, and I think the only reason I hadn't given up hope on finding my mate was because Jer hadn't found his, either."

"Hmmm...maybe being around other werewolves who found mates so late will give him hope," Mother suggests. "And maybe, like my boys, he'll find a mate here, as well."

"It's possible," says Anthony. "We have quite a few unmated werewolves. Maybe we should talk to other packs about establishing an exchange program, two or three werewolves that rotate through packs, looking for their true mates."

"Wonderful idea," exclaims my mother. "We could start with two older members still looking and two younger, who have just graduated high school. That would make it four weres: two dominants, two submissives. I'll get started on it as soon as we return home."

A knock comes on the partition, letting us know we've reached the air strip. The six of us open the doors and climb out of the SUV, The driver moving to help Mother and Father with their bags. Standing next to the plane, I hug my mother for a final time, as Archer hugs our father, then we switch. Archer and I step back from our parents, and they climb onto the plane's stairs.

My mother calls out an admonition, "We love you both. Don't forget to call. Archer has a phone and our number." Archer nods his head once, and they duck their heads to enter the plane.

Anthony's arms comes around me, as Jeremiah steps up to wrap his arms around Archer. I look at my twin, and notice that the tears that fill my eyes are in his as well, and reach out to grab his free hand. I remind him quietly, "We'll always have each other."

Archer nods again, as Anthony and Jeremiah say in unison, "and us," which makes me smile through my tears.