Tansy's Reign

Chapter Two

For all the eighteen years Tansy lived in Birch Grove, it had never been more quiet than in the moments she sat in the passenger seat of her family's pick-up truck. In the driver's seat, her sister fumbled with the keys while cursing underneath her breath. 

Rose was three years her senior. As an Alpha, she was expected to inherit her mother's role as pack leader. She stood a whole head taller than her little sister. Where Tansy was soft, Rose turned lean with muscle. Like their mother, her black hair fell like a curtain down her back. She wore her hair like a crown-- after-all, it was a Godspeed's signature calling. 

"I think it's that one--" Tansy attempted to break the quiet. 

"Will you just shut the fuck up for a few seconds, Tans," Rose never raised her voice at Tansy, but this morning, the stress clouded her judgment. 

Within a second, Tansy's mouth snapped shut. It didn't matter. A jingle of keys, a scraping noise, and then-- the loud purr of the truck.

"Shit, that's loud," Rose said. "Shit, shit, shit." 

Tansy nodded, still hesitant to speak. Instead, she would give her sister the room to think as she pulled the truck out of park and into drive. The wheels crackled over the gravel road as they slowly pulled out of the driveway. Every single noise another clue to whoever-- to whatever-- they were running from. 

Tansy watched the rear-view window as the pack house disappeared from view. Outside of the truck, there was still no sign of trouble. Just the sickening scent of blood-- gallons of it. She lifted up the sleeve of her jacket and stuffed her sensitive nose into her palm in attempt to drown out the scent. 

It didn't help. 

"What did Mom tell you?" Rose asked as they finally came to the end of the drive. 

"She told me to run like hell," Tansy said. "What did she tell you?" 

"Drive like hell," Rose replied. "But she didn't tell me shit about what the hell is going on." 

"Dad is hurt," Tansy whispered. The words felt oddly heavy on her tongue. In her entire lifetime, her father was a symbol of pure strength. Broad shoulders, red hair, kind dark eyes and the reigning Pack Doctor. 

"What do you mean Dad's hurt?" Rose asked. She turned onto the only dirt road that led out of Pack land. 

Tansy's nose crinkled. The scent of blood thickened the farther they traveled. 

"I mean he's hurt enough to not be here, Rose," Tansy whispered. "He's-- he's the Pack Doctor. Who is going to take care of him?" 

"As long as his head isn't cut off, he'll be fine," Rose said. "He's hurt. Not hunted." 

"You don't smell it, do you?" Tansy said, so low her words almost turned to breath. 

But, Rose was an Alpha shifter. What Tansy lacked, Rose was naturally attuned, including sound. 

"Smell what?" Rose asked. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened until her tanned knuckles turned white. 

"Death," Tansy whispered. "So much death." 

She regretted her words. Instantly, Rose went quiet. The color in her sister's face drained and her unblinking gaze remained on the road, as if she needed to focus on each and every pebble and tree they passed in order to keep her emotions from boiling over. 

"Why would there be death in Birch Grove?" Rose asked. "We don't have enemies, we don't make enemies. We don't spill blood."

Tansy didn't have an answer. There was no budding war across any pack in North America. While there may be tensions from neighboring packs, her mother was careful never to overstep a boundary and cross the line of war. It was useless bloodshed and it almost always ended in the death of many innocent wolves.