Chapter 1
I’m a big guy, six-five and well over two hundred pounds. Thirty-seven years old, and I can turn into a wolf pretty much any time I want to. Fifth in my pack, and some of my fights to rise in the ranks ended before they began, with the other guy rolling over and showing me his belly.
And yet there I was, five o’clock on Halloween, standing in front of my Alpha in his soundproofed office and whining like a baby. “Do Ihaveto?”
My Alpha glowered at me from under bushy brows. He was five inches shorter than me, but when his icy gray eyes fixed on mine and he said,“Hop,”I usually asked,“How high?”That night, I was pissed off, though, so I’d pushed back.
“Yes, you do.” Alpha didn’t sound like there was any give to his answer. He leaned his hip on the mahogany desk and crossed his arms.
Still, I kept trying. “Trick or treating? Why? There are only eight kids in the whole pack that age. Seventeen of us adult wolves, and all the wives. Why pick on me? A couple of their dads should be enough to chaperone.”
“Dylan’s going trick-or-treating as an orc, and you’ll be in fur as the Warg he’s riding. You’re the only guy big enough to do that easily for an hour.”
“I… what?” I blinked hard. I’d imagined Alpha wanted me lurking in the background as some kind of extra bodyguard. Thirteen years after coming out of hiding and revealing our existence to the human world, we wolves still ran across prejudices. I could act intimidating as hell, if for some reason Alpha thought there was a risk to the kids. But I hadn’t imagined going out in fur, or as part of the entertainment.
Given a choice, I’d had no intention of being around kids at all on Halloween night.
I had nothing against Halloween. In fact, it was my favorite holiday. Privately. Away from the pack. Ever since I turned eighteen. Because that was the one night I could go out to the gay clubs in a mask and disguise, and no one cared. I could dance with men out on the floor, flirt openly, pick up men, go to my knees and suck a guy off in semi-public, or put someone up against a wall and fuck them in a bathroom stall. For one night, I could be me openly, an escape, back through the bad years when being queer in wolf society meant a death sentence.
Even now, when wolves had been known to humans for over a decade and word had come down from the high Council to leave queer wolves alone, Halloween remained my night. I wasn’t planning to alienate my pack by coming out as gay, but now I could meet guys on the down-low without wondering if I’d die from taking that risk. So it was reasonable I didn’t want to hang out with children on my night to… well, not shine, or sparkle. Not my style. Break loose, maybe.
I bit back the words,“You must be kidding,”which I didn’t quite dare utter to my Alpha’s face, but I did repeat, “Infur?”
“You’re a Warg,” Alpha insisted. “Or dire wolf or whatever the kid thinks he’s riding. Listen up, Trent. Alpha Rick Brown wants another round of ‘werewolves are only dangerous if you’re a bad guy.’ So we’re showing off the soft side of werewolves. Like a child’s furry pony.”
I snorted, and Alpha gave me a raised eyebrow, a glint of humor in his eyes.
Soft. Right.We’d both grown up when the answer to someone breaking werewolf rules was ripping their throat out and dropping their body into a mine shaft. As recently as thirteen years ago, that was how wolves operated. We were the product of generations when secrecy was critical to survival, and the only punishments we had were a beating, or death. One decade hadn’t changed us that much yet.
“Fake it,” Alpha said drily. “You’re going to be out there with this little kid riding your back, all tame and sweet. The pussycat of werewolves. That’s an order, Fifth.”
All I could do was bow my head. We wolves might look human, and mate with human women who bore our sons, but our Alphas and our strict dominance rankings still ruled us. Our DNA marked us as different, and werewolf laws of rank and power were written deep in our bones. I could no more defy my Alpha than I could fly.
“Good man.” Alpha gave me a cool stare. “You can disappear like usual after the kids are stuffed with candy.”
I flinched, trying to remind myself it was now okay that Alpha had noticed my tendency to take off. Old reflexes were hard to shake, though. I gave him the blandest expression I could, while schooling my breathing to stay steady. A little up-tick in my heart rate would be all he’d get from me, a minor reflex that could mean anything.
Alpha smirked. “I hear they have a saddle made for you. I hope it’s not too uncomfortable. Go on, Fifth, get the kid lots of chocolate.” He gestured me out the office door.
When I reached the main hall where the kids and parents were assembling, I spotted Dylan waving a plastic sword around and shouting, “Death! Death!” Dylan was the son of our Eighth and his wife, a five-year-old with a motormouth and a love of fantasy that’d amused me at a greater distance. Combining his enthusiasm with a sugar high and a weapon looked like a headache in the making. For me, anyway. I anticipated getting bopped a few times.
Dylan’s mom, Jang-mi, gave me an apologetic nod as I approached. “You don’t have to do this, Trent. Really. He can be a foot-soldier orc.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I told her, truthfully in the sense that missing my Warg duties would get my ass whooped by my Alpha.
Garrett, Dylan’s dad, said from behind me, “We appreciate you indulging Dylan. Although honestly, the riding-wolf part of his costume was Alpha’s idea. A bit of a surprise.”
I shrugged. “I gather it’s another publicity campaign out of Chicago.” The leader of our national werewolf Council was the top Chicago Alpha. We probably wouldn’t have made it through a decade of human politics half as intact without him, but he was an autocratic bastard. Our public image as wolves was always a bee in his highhanded bonnet. Not that I’d dare say anything other than “Yes, sir,” to Rick Brown’s face.
Garrett chuckled. “Oh, sure. Makes sense.”
“It does?” I glared hard at him.
Jang-mi laughed. “As much as anything werewolfy ever does, yeah. Calming human fears with happy children. If you want to go shift, we can see if this saddle I made fits. I rigged it up on Garrett but he’s a lot smaller than you.”
“Most of us are,” Garrett muttered.
“Sure. I’ll go, um, get ready.” I headed toward one of the smaller rooms along the far side of the meeting hall. Wolves weren’t generally prudish. Shifting meant getting naked first and we were all used to that. But with eight kids in the room, I wasn’t going to wave my naked dick around.
