AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The long gravel alley was choked with weeds and littered with broken glass and pieces of wood. You’d think people who spent time as wolves would care more for their environment, but this pack at least didn’t seem to be bothered by living in filth.
I picked up my pace since no one was back there, jogging to the side of the compound where Del and I had widened a rabbit hole into one big enough to fit two full-sized squirrel hunters. This part of the fence was pretty far from the back gate to the hunting grounds, and surrounded by brush and trees. I knew the guard on duty at the gate couldn’t see me. Still, as I slipped through, I felt the strange itch of eyes on me.
I paused just long enough to check for any nearby shifters. I wouldn’t have been able to smell anyone coming; I stunk to high heaven. Nothing moved that I could tell, but the sensation of being watched didn’t fade.
Finally, I let it go. If I was going to be caught, it was safer away from the compound. I unwrapped the black trash bag and stuffed it inside the backpack, not dumb enough to leave a clue as to where I’d vanished.
“Aooooooh!” A distant, angry howl that ended in a scream had me almost turning back. But Del had given me my orders, and he’d always kept me safe. So I ignored the uneasy feeling in my gut and the crawling sensation of being watched, and started running toward the hunting grounds.
The commercials I’d seen for camping had always struck me as hilarious. They made it look like it was a welcome break from real life. I wasn’t certain what was so amazing about no toilet paper, air conditioning, or running water. For the thousandth time since I’d woken up that morning, I slapped at a mosquito and wished for a tent, or at least some netting. It wasn’t that being eaten by bugs was new; it’s just that there were so many more of them down here by the marshy part of the forest.
Our pack’s compound was set near a gravel road that led into the closest small town. Well, ghost town. It was deserted, just some boarded-up trailers and a gas station that pack members who were allowed to leave ran to occasionally for magazines or junk food. Since humans supposedly didn’t know about wolf shifters—though I wasn’t sure how that could be, since there were thousands of us in the world, according to Del—it was usually only ranked shifters who got to leave and have jobs in the outside world. Unranked shifters were weaker, and didn’t always have great control over their shifts.
I knew that was a sack of horse shit. For one thing, Del was unranked, and had more control and strength than ten regular ranked members. According to the Alpha, our pack had cultivated a reputation for being a religious cult of some kind, to keep people away. If that didn’t work, the shitty, razor-wire-topped fence that stretched for miles on the edge closest to the pack’s housing made it clear no one was welcome inside.
The tall fence circled the entire compound, with one main gate at the front, and one at the back that led out to the hunting grounds, the unfenced part of Southern’s territory that was still patrolled by our Enforcers. The hunting grounds stretched into a dense forest with hills that turned to mountains the farther north you ran. We all knew that the rogues who lurked at Southern’s borders could be out there, and hunting alone was Russian roulette. Only Enforcers or ranked shifters who were accompanied by one were allowed to hunt game.
But I’d been hunting illegally on this land for years, and had never once come across any rogues. Of course, I’d figured they couldn’t be much worse than Trevor Blackside and his asshole friends. I’d only seen signs of rogues when I’d wandered too deep into the hunting grounds: footprints that became pawprints, gnawed bones, and tracks that vanished into nowhere.
The area of the hunting grounds where I’d finally stopped smelling other Southern wolves—but was still close enough to be certain I wasn’t in rogue territory—felt more like a swamp than a forest. In the past day and a half, I hadn’t seen much wildlife other than a couple of water snakes, birds, and a few squirrels, but the mosquitoes were approaching the size of apex predators.
I dipped my canteen into the less-stagnant water at my feet and dropped another sanitizing tablet in before shaking it up. I would definitely have to thank Del for those little marvels later. Once I was able to shift to my wolf form, I’d be able to drink almost any kind of water, but until then, I was vulnerable to all the creepy-crawlies.
Some of the girls I’d known in school, back when I was allowed to go to school, had already shifted. It happened naturally after someone found their true mate. But if a female got too old without shifting, the Alpha would guide her through the change. Which sounded like a favor, but I’d watched more than one twenty-one-year-old go through the process, and it apparently hurt worse than childbirth.
That said, the males in our pack were all forced into their first shift before they turned sixteen, and it didn’t seem as painful for them. Maybe the Alpha made it worse for the females. He was a sadistic prick, so I could see that being something he would enjoy.
Leaves rustled just beyond my campsite, and I hopped up, stowing the canteen. At the base of a nearby sycamore tree, I’d made a squirrel snare the way Del had taught me years before. As usual, I’d caught one. I twisted its neck and tucked it into the makeshift belt I’d made out of some rope Del had packed.
The guy had thought of everything. When I went back for the Games, I would find him, and after I’d fought and found another pack, I would ask their Alpha to take him, too.
I still remembered the night our Alpha had announced that the Conclave was coming to our packlands. Since it was a gathering of all the packs, the Conclave was supposed to switch between the four main packs every four years. But the Northern, Eastern, and Mountain packs had so much more money than ours, and so many more members, they hadn’t come to our packlands for something like forty years.
The older females in our pack had been buzzing with stories about Conclaves ever since the announcement. I’d listened at more doorways and half-opened windows than usual, trying to figure out what exactly to expect. Especially if it would make my life harder, to be hunted at night with so many other packs here. It would be a real bitch to hide, with every room filled, and shifters everywhere.
Supposedly, Conclaves lasted for a week and were the main way that true mates who weren’t in each other’s home packs could meet. That was mostly what the pack women seemed fired up about.
The whole first two days, and every day for the entire week, there would be parties and even regional “cultural classes,” with dances late into the night. Those were the events everyone around my age wanted to go to, since they gave unmated wolves more chances to interact. If you found “the one,” and touched him or her, it was supposed to be super apparent to everyone around that you were fated. The packs would hold celebrations every night for the lucky wolves.
I had always been more curious about the other elements of the Conclave. There were pack political meetings, where any shifter could speak privately with the Council, the elite ruling group made up of the Alphas of the four main packs, their mates, and Head Enforcers. Any shifter, no matter what their rank, could report on issues within their own pack, with the understanding that there would be no retribution after the Conclave was over. Boy, would I have some “issues” to share with the big shots, if I could get close enough.
But the most exciting parts of the week were the Enforcer Games that took place on five of the evenings. They were really fights, not games, exactly. Del had said there used to be different types of competitions, so shifters who were great at tracking or hunting, or even stuff like memorizing pack history, could win. But for decades now, the only Games had been the evening fights.
Our Alpha had announced that any shifter could participate. When I’d pressed Del for details, he’d admitted that no, it didn’t say in the Conclave bylaws that only male shifters were eligible. He said there was even one pack that had a few female Enforcers. Maybe that one would bid for me.
I ran a hand through my butchered short hair. Would I even be recognized as a female now? I sure didn’t look like one anymore.
Grabbing the stout branches I’d found to serve as my practice staff and sword, I ran through the fighting forms Del had been teaching me for the past ten years. When he’d discovered me trying to teach myself how to use a broken wooden sword in the hurricane-damaged gym by the dining hall when I was almost ten, I’d thought he’d make me quit. But instead, he’d taught me.
Well, not taught, exactly. It was illegal to teach an unranked wolf to fight. But we were allowed to do forms without weapons. So, he’d handed me a mop instead of a staff, and a kitchen knife in place of a sword. I’d gotten pretty good, or at least, I thought so. Del had told me I was better than I realized.
I swung my branches, thinking about how the Games would play out. Supposedly, there were five evenings of scheduled fights after the Conclave began, where shifters would show off their strength, cunning, and fighting skills in human form, and wolf form if they could shift. Enforcers and even unranked shifters could participate. Mostly, participants were in it to gain glory for their own pack, but a shifter could announce after they had won a round that they were seeking a new pack.
And then, if another pack accepted them, they were taken on as an Enforcer in training.
My heart raced at the thought. No, the certainty.
I was going to be an Enforcer. All I had to do was win one round against another shifter and impress another pack. According to Del, most of the shifters tried to pick strong opponents, so when they won or lost, they were celebrated. No one cheered for the weaker wolves.
