The conclusion to Wolf's Girl – I hope it was worth the wait. ;)
Note: This work contains characters who happen to be werewolves. The sex is human only.
-OM
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Giles walked toward the glow of the campfires. The Alaskan night was cool but still summer weather. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the pleasant smell of wood turning to embers. They were fortunate tonight — the aurora above illuminated the sky in iridescent blues and greens. He'd lived here his entire life, but he would never tire of watching the heavens on a clear night. Giles was never more contented than when he was out in the wilderness. He just wished he was out here by himself.
The clandestine gathering of werewolves and their kin was well-hidden. It took place on private land, miles from the nearest road and far from the regular flight paths. Everyone had traveled for hours to be here. Seven figures sat on tree stumps in a semi-circle around the main fire. Giles would make the eighth. A crowd of people gathered beyond this inner circle. Tonight's turnout was pretty good, he thought. He guessed there were about forty altogether.
Those seated by the fire varied by appearance and age, though most were in their thirties or older. What they all shared was a certain inhuman presence, something in the expression on each person's face that betrayed their wild nature. The look varied according to the individual: intense, serenely powerful, cunning, fierce, or in Giles' case – dominating.
He was by far the largest person present. His towering frame and muscled hulk dwarfed those on either side of him. Right now, he didn't even have his usual charm to offset his intimidating appearance. His golden yellow eyes peered out from a scruffy face with several days growth. He most definitely did not want to be here tonight, but you only missed a pack meeting if you were sick or dead. He chose to show up and just get the damned thing over with.
A tanned man, thirtyish, with pale blond hair and humorless ice blue eyes turned his attention to the late arrival. "Giles. Glad you could join us." Seated next to him on the ground and holding his knee was a lovely brunette woman, very obviously pregnant. The man's possessive and public display of his mate was entirely within his rights, but Giles found it sort of tacky.
Giles grunted. "Ryan." The two of them had clashed several times over the years, mostly over trivial things. Still, they were part of the same grand pack, and in theory, they had the same goals. If necessary, they would both fight to the death to defend the other from external threats. Giles frowned as he noted an empty seat next to Ryan. "Where's George?"
"George is sick. In fact, that's our first order of business tonight. Please," Ryan said, gesturing at the open seat near the fire.
Giles sat down. He had a slightly sick feeling in his stomach, and it wasn't from the amount of whiskey he'd downed just before his arrival. With his size and werewolf constitution, it was hard for him to get drunk. Right now he had a pleasant buzz that would probably wear off in an hour or so, long enough to get through the meeting.
Ryan waited until all eyes were on him, then addressed the crowd, "Since our time is short, I'll get straight to the point. As most of you know by now, our Alpha's health has taken a turn for the worse." Ryan paused. "He is not expected to recover."
Giles winced as he closed his eyes. Damn. He made a mental note to visit the old leader soon. The Alpha — former Alpha — was a 102 year old Iñupiat who looked like he was in his 70s or 80s. He was the oldest living werewolf Giles had ever heard of. This was mostly a time of peace among werewolves, but many still died younger, falling in conflict with others of their kind or to outside threats. Conflicts with other supernatural creatures were rare. They usually weren't stupid enough to show themselves to their ancient enemies. Some doubted things like vampires even existed any more. More dangerous were the isolated humans who believed in the supernatural and who were bold enough to hunt them.
"And while we will mourn the loss of a great man and a great wolf, we must have a leader. I've spoken to him and he approves of my taking over the pack." A few people in the crowd murmured but most remained respectfully silent.
Giles shot a sharp look at Ryan. "You can't just wait to make your power play? Show some goddamn respect. Nobody else on the council gives a fuck about being the big alpha anyway. Job's yours whenever you want it."
Ryan fixed Giles with a look. "I'll pretend that outburst didn't happen, for your sake. I know George is your friend. He's my friend too. I do care about him. I also care about this pack. Without leadership, we're in danger." He fixed Giles with a hard, serious look. "Do you intend to challenge me?"
Giles fixed Ryan with a steady look. He would love to challenge him. Hell, he'd love the chance to punch the arrogant prick's face just once. But winning a challenge against him would mean taking on the responsibility of being Alpha. Giles just wanted to be left alone. The only reason he even sat at the inner circle was because he had kin under his protection and there were no other werewolves from his area. "No."
Ryan scanned the faces of everyone in the circle. "Does anyone else have objections?"
Giles glanced at Marian, his next closest friend on the council. She was a thin, business-like woman in her fifties with cream skin and short, snowy white hair. A doctor in her human life, she was always calm, level-headed, and had good advice. She'd do fine as a pack leader. Marian returned his look with a faint shake of her head. Not me. Giles sighed in disappointment.
"It's settled then," Ryan asserted. "I officially accept the duties and responsibilities of the Alpha. We can take care of formalities another time."
Another time. Yeah, like sometime after the current Alpha was actually dead. Giles zoned in and out as more business was discussed. Wolves and kin brought their concerns to the council and the council sorted them out as best they could. One group wanted clarification of territorial boundaries that included a river. A young kin couple asked for permission to marry. The rest were simply there to visit and check in. Summer meetings were always more productive. Winter was a time for family, not business. As the night wore on, people began to break up into small groups. Some retired to their tents and sleeping bags.
Someone cleared their throat. Giles suddenly realized it was meant for him. He looked up.
Ryan asked, "Are we expecting any threats from the pack you dealt with in California?"
Giles shook his head. "I doubt it. They allowed me honorable combat with the one who survived the attack on Connor." Giles felt the combat had been anything but honorable — it was more like an execution. The surviving attacker was just a twenty year old kid, still wounded. He took no joy in it, just the satisfaction of closure. And justice. "It's been months. If anyone was going to retaliate for his death, they would have done it by now."
"I see," Ryan answered. "And the kin who was responsible for this conflict in the first place, not to mention the loss of one of our own – what was her punishment?"
Giles scowled at him. "It wasn't her fault she was attacked. Hell, if anyone's responsible, it's me. I was the one who encouraged her father to let her leave. You want to punish me? Go right ahead." He glared at Ryan, daring him.
In response, Ryan slowly stood up. He lowered his voice dangerously and declared, "Don't make my first act as alpha be making an example of you. I won't be running things quite so... philosophically... as our last leader did. I don't mind constructive disagreements but I won't tolerate disrespect. I also won't tolerate wolves who can't control their kin." Ryan gestured to the tents and and camps just beyond. "Are any of yours even here tonight?"
"They're busy." Giles continued to glare at him. Well, it was true. He had also not wanted to bring everyone up here, not when his sister's family still wasn't speaking to Carson's. Maybe he'd encourage them to come next year, when everyone had had time to move on from their loss.
