Little Wolf

Ch 45 Challenge

The wounded man before me didn't say anything. Now that we were standing, I could see the damage I'd done to him.

"Go over and ask Doc over there, politely considering you were thinking about killing him a few minutes ago,  for what we'll need for stitches. We'll get you cleaned up real quick."

He looked surprised. "I'll be fine."

I let out a slight growl. I couldn't force care upon him.

"No matter what you say," said the one Anna still had her shotgun roughly aimed at, "we can't just let them go."

"What part of not kidnapping and not biting didn't you understand?" I asked wearily.

"Just because you played with that poor excuse for an alpha doesn't give you the right to command us all," he said. 

"That was never a right I've claimed."

"Boy over there named you the Alpha King," he retorted.

"I am the alpha of a pack of alphas. If you understood what it meant to be wolf, you would understand what that means. He understands it to mean Alpha King, but then he's still learning what it means to be one with the wolf."

"Then why should anyone obey you, even that..." and he sneered toward my beaten foe, "not even worth calling it an alpha."

"He is still alpha of his pack. And now I am his alpha."

"It doesn't work that way."

"If you were part of my pack you would understand."

He sneered again, turning to the side, taking a defensive stance. He was older than the other one, maybe lower forties. His body was lean and well defined, similar in build to my dad's. He had scars that spoke of experience, as well as a puckered mark on his shoulder which declared  him a created werewolf from being bitten..

I had a few scars of my own even if mine had come from practice bouts, except that last fight with dad. A leadership battle, I thought. Who knew such things existed? I had become an alpha even if I didn't realize it at the time.

For dad and I, there was a balance between being wolf and man, something these new werewolves didn't seem to understand at all. My pack was a pack of true wolves who understood how to be one with the wolf, balanced with being good men. My pack was those like Sheep, willing to learn. It was family, and friends like Mac who became like family.

"Give me a chance to rest up, then come run with me, my brother, you will see..."

"See what?" he asked derisively. "Come run with you as part of your pack? When I defeat you, I will take you back to mine. I will teach you..."

I didn't wait, shifting without thought. My leap was instinctual. He blocked me, shoving me off to the side even as he began to shift.

I circled, snarling, waiting for him to shift to wolf. I lowered my head, not in submission, but in preparation. I was stalking, my eyes focused on my prey. My steps were glides, my muscles ready to shift or jump.

We came together, our snarls filling the air. His teeth clipped the folds of my ruff. I went sideways, shoving my shoulder into him. I spun, bringing my hind legs ups even as he was falling to the ground. My claws raked his side. His front paws clung to my neck, his teeth coming in for another bite. I lowered my head, blocking his bite, shoving my forehead into his neck. His teeth scraped my scalp. My teeth scraped his chest.

He rolled away, snarling, but looking at me as a man inside a wolf. Somehow I doubted he had ever been completely wolf.

The last few days, I had lived more as a wolf than a man. I remembered something else Dad had said; the wolf needed to know, I needed to know, that I needed to be human to survive. Where my previous opponent only knew the rudiments of fighting, this one knew more. I needed man-smarts to survive. My mind focused on the lesson Jacob had given me. The man in me knew I needed a wolf's reactionary instinct to survive as well.