Dawns Destiny

Prologue

The villagers were terrified of the wolf. They feared the wolf's unusual white pelt. The strangeness of such a creature in a bland, flat land of nothing but dull greens and browns was seen as a bad omen. Draught plagued their crops. Disease stole their children in the night. The wild game they depended on to survive the long winter still ahead of them had fled. The presence of the wolf on their lands was the blame. The wolf was certainly the reason the Goddess had turned her back on them and left their desperate prayers unanswered. With nowhere else to turn, the elders made an appeal to their best hunters to track the wolf and return to the village with its white pelt as a sacrifice to the goddess. But, no matter how many brave and skillful hunting parties ventured out to track the wolf. They returned empty handed. And the curse continued.

The Prophet had dreams about the wolf. He saw the wolf's icy blue stare in his nightmares. He too thought the coming of the wolf was a bad omen. He lived on the fringes of the village with those of his ilk, in exile. He was one, but not one of the villagers. He was the same as his brothers in his murky non-life of confusion and contradiction, yet different. He dreamed dreams. Saw incredible visions of the forgotten past and of the distant, unattainable future. He walked with the Goddess. Yet, gravity held his feet solidly on the ground. He was spirit and flesh and bone. Born of mother and reborn of blood.

He was the hunter, the dreamer of dreams, the seer of things he could never hope to interpret, and he was going to save the village from the curse of the white wolf. He needed no spear, quiver of arrows, or musket to hunt the creature. He was more deadly than any weapon of human design. Goddess blessed and goddess cursed. He was more than a mere man. And yet, he still possessed a man's greed.

The wolf plagued his dreams and every waking thought. So obsessed became the Prophet with the wolf. That he imagined himself wearing the wolf's white pelt as a coat of such grandeur the villagers would welcome him and his brothers home with grateful, open arms. He would end the plague of the white wolf's curse and be revered as the man responsible for saving his people.

One day, he set out to destroy the wolf. The wolf was cunning and sly. Leading the Prophet to many dead ends and on trails of such peril that even one with his strength and abilities could barely follow. He tracked the wolf diligently. But, the wolf in all his wily ways was always one step ahead.

The day the Prophet caught up with the wolf was a bleak, rainy, cold day. Freezing drizzle crusted over the paw prints, stamping them deep into the muddy ground leaving him an easy trail to follow. After weeks of tracking the wolf's comings and goings between the valley and the borders of the village, nestled within to the wide meadow surrounded by steep walls of rock and dense forest. He finally had the beast. Eager for his coat of white fur, the Prophet sprang from his hiding place amongst the craggy outcroppings of shale and jagged peeks of limestone and buried his fangs deep into the wolf's neck. Drinking of the wolf till the beast lay dead in his arms.

A vision overcame the Prophet. And he knew he'd killed no ordinary wolf. The skies opened and rain poured down on him. The Goddess wept. Billowy clouds of silver wrapped around the wolf. Her voice bellowed the thunder of her sorrow. "Why have you killed my companion?" she asked. "His soul has been set free to roam the spirit world. I cannot return it to this lifeless shell."

The Prophet fell prostrate. Trembling with fear of Kokumthena's retribution. He didn't know that the wolf was dear to her. He didn't understand that the wolf was the goddess's blessing and not the bad omen the villagers had feared. Filled with regret, he cowered on his knees at her feet. "My goddess, you have given me a great gift, and look what I have done with it. Look how I have repaid you for your blessing. My life for the wolf's, Goddess! I will take the wolf's place and become your protector, your servant, and your companion in his stead. If only you will permit me the honor."

The goddess thought about what the Prophet offered. The wolf's spirit hovered in a mist of color and light. Drifting in the winds. He was as he had been before she'd chosen a shape that pleased her and fashioned him a body. The wolf was content in the body she'd made. He walked upon the earth, so like the natural wolves her Father had created. And yet, he could never be one of them. He was alone. There was no other like him. And there never would be again.

She was a great goddess with many powers. But, for all her abilities not even she could bring the dead back to life. Her Father was the creator. And not even he could recreate what had already been created once the spark of life departed the vessel.

The body the wolf had inhabited was dead. Useless. And the spirit bound for the netherworld of shadows she called home. She loved her companion and did not wish to see him unhappy again. An empty eternity as nothing but a shapeless mist awaited him. She was a protector of life and spirit, the goddess of the living and the dead. And the spirit wolf was the guardian of the thin veil separating the two worlds.

She'd gifted the wolf with a physical body in which to roam the earth. But, she could not form flesh and bone out of dust. As her father had done when he'd gifted her with the brown children she so loved. When she'd formed the wolf's body, she'd done so by altering the raw materials of living matter into a proper house for her spirit friend.

The Prophet would make a splendid home. The gift of her blood flowed through his veins, giving him strength. Her voice spoke into the ears of her warriors from his lips. He walked with two feet. Felt deeply, loved greatly, and had a human's craving for more. For family. For home. For greatness. The wolf's mind and body had been so limited. Through him the spirit lived an animal's life. Governed by instinct and drive beyond the capability of logic and reason. But, through the Prophet, he could have the whole of the human existence. He could walk like a man. Think like a man. And love, like a man.

She would not take the Prophet's life. But, add to it. She would not allow the spirit to drift away into an eternity of unhappiness. But, see him happier than he'd ever been. "Spirit, do you wish to share the body of this great Prophet?"

The spirit thought about her offer. "It is an ugly body, without fur to keep it warm or a great bushy tail to brag about. Look how it wobbles on two spindly legs. Look at those blunt teeth. How can it eat with such teeth? Look at that tiny nose. How can it scent prey with such a tiny nose? Look at those weak, brown eyes. How can it see in the dark of the forest with such eyes? Look at those ears so close to its head. How can it hear when danger approaches? I could never be happy in such a body."

The goddess thought about the wolf's complaints and gave them much consideration. To a wolf, the human form must appear quite limited indeed. For humans were created for one purpose and the wolf for another. "Flesh is merely a house for the spirit to dwell. The outer shell can be altered. Would you share the flesh with this man? Live in his world and allow him to live in yours?"

"I will," the spirit replied.

"Do you, Prophet agree? Will you carry the wolf in your body and yield to its form as it must yield to yours. You will share the body and the flesh. But, your spirit will be your own. When the wolf is in your body, in his cherished familiar form. Your spirit will take his place as my companion. When you are in your human form, the form you like best. The wolf will come to the spirit world as my guardian. Do you agree to this?"

"I do," the Prophet answered.

"Very well, let it be done. My Prophet, you sacrifice much to see me smile again. I will give you a great gift. Perhaps one more valued than the gift you received from my warrior son. You are a mighty warrior, a great visionary, and my mouthpiece to the mortal world. You can share my gift. Give life. Yet, you cannot create life. I give you the ability to father true life. Through the blood, more warriors will be made. And through the spirit and the body, children will be fathered. From generation to generation, the spirit of the wolf will be passed from father to son, and from mother to daughter. Your lives and the lives of your children will be long. You and your children's, children's children will bear many fine offspring. This is both a blessing and a curse. Choose your mate wisely my beloveds, for there can only be one."

The Prophet fell to his knees as the wolf's spirit crowded into his body and made itself a home in his soul. They merged, one body, with two separate spirits and minds, yet sharing the same flesh. Days passed as the Prophet and the wolf learned to manage the body they shared. At times, the wolf would run wild and free. And at times, the Prophet would enjoy the warmth of a fire. And so they came to a peace with one another and the gift the goddess had blessed them with.

The Prophet consulted the wolf in all matters and a mate was chosen between them. The girl was a beautiful girl, with long silky hair dark as a raven's wing and gentle, soft brown eyes that twinkled with humor. They wed and a son the first of many born. His children grew up strong and bold and at the appropriate time, the wolf emerged from their skin. Their mate lived a long life. But, her human body could not accept the gift that would prolong it. And she crossed the Great River. The Prophet and the wolf mourned her passing. And for them, there was never another.

The Prophet lived two lives. To the brotherhood, he lived the life of a mighty warrior and minister to his people. And to the wolf, the quiet life of a gentle husband and wise father.

The White Wolf and Prophet agreed to tell no one about their secret. The Prophet hid the wolf down deep in his soul. Not even his brother, in all his mighty wisdom suspected the truth about his other life.

His family flourished as did the warriors his brother gifted with the goddess's blessing. The Prophet's children married and had children of their own, and his grandchildren bore many, many more children. The Prophet was blessed beyond measure and found happiness in both lives. Living in the ways of the wolf, in the ways of man, and in the ways of a Son. And so it was the legacy of the Great White Wolf, Psaiwiwuhkernekah Ptweowa, and the time of the wolf began.

Chapter 1

The wolf was completely content, doing things that wolves do. Her paws ran over the spongy loam of the forest floor. She bolted through dense underbrush at breakneck speeds through the familiar woods the wolves called home. She marked her territory and scouted for prey, eating off the fat of the land. And all in all, it was a pretty good life, for a wolf. The problem was the woman sharing the wolf's body was as completely miserable as the wolf was content. She didn't talk to her family. She didn't eat or sleep. Most importantly, she didn't smile anymore. Ever.

Weeks had passed since the wolf had caught even the slightest trace of the man's scent. The man made the both the girl and the wolf deliriously happy. But, he was gone. And life, at least the wolf's life, had to go on. The wolf shook out her thick, shaggy black coat, ridding her fur of the cold splatters of rain sliding down her back. The morning was soggy, cool and rainy. Mud stuck between the pads of her paws and coated her forelegs. Spring had come at last in all its glory. The woods burst with new growth and life. And along with spring, came the rain. The wolf hated the rain. But, the cold gloomy wetness of everything suited the woman within her just fine.

Hungry. The wolf's belly rumbled in complaint. The woman had taken over last night. Spending the evening pining away for her lost love. But, she'd forgotten to feed them. And the wolf would have no part of that. Crouching low, she spotted a tasty morsel, a fat rabbit. Small, easy prey, contentedly munching on fresh shoots of green grass completely unaware he'd been spotted by a hungry predator. The woman wouldn't let her hunt anything simpler to catch. No matter how hungry she was.

Livestock and family pets were off limits, even though a juicy nanny goat or fat, lazy housecat made for easier hunting and delicious eating. Chickens were noisy and just not worth the trouble of alerting the humans to her presence. So, she hunted for lesser more difficult game. And sometimes, she went hungry.

Her muscles rippled in anticipation, focused on the kill. Releasing the springs of muscle coiled tightly into balls of energy she surged forward. A blur sped past her line of sight and the prey skittered for cover. She would have no fat, juicy rabbit in her belly. Annoyed at losing out on a very promising breakfast, the wolf bounded down the trail, scenting the man responsible for her empty belly.

Growling and bristling her fur, her lips curled back to reveal her sharp teeth. She threatened the man that had scared off her breakfast. Trying her best to intimidate the man into abandoning his meal of a deer. The woman inside her head pounded at the borders of her mind. Battling to get her to forget the deer, the man, and the wolf inside of him. Leave well enough alone. The wolf stubbornly held her ground, growling and flashing her teeth, completely ignoring the woman. Maybe, if the woman hadn't been so intent on starving the two of them. She might have listened. But, her empty stomach and the temptation of an even easier meal than rabbit overrode any empathy she had for her human's much more fragile emotions.

The man, sweet smelling, earthy, and woodsy, did not balk and did not turn his attention from the subdued buck at his feet. Lunging bravely forward, she nipped at a tender piece of exposed skin at his waist. The woman reeled in horror, pounding even harder at her awareness to get her to stop. The man did not acknowledge her presence or the sting of her sharp incisors. But, the wolf inside of him did. Magic ancient as the universe surged around her. And the wolf trapped in the man's human form awakened.

Drew sealed the puncture wounds in the buck's earthy scented, tawny flesh and looked over his shoulder at the black wolf. She was such a fierce little thing. Her fur bristling and lips curled in a threatening snarl. His side smarted from where she'd nipped him with her sharp teeth. But, the wounds had already healed, thanks to his preternatural gift.

Over the past several weeks, he'd learned a lot about wolves. Their social structures and behaviors, as well as their customs were more complex than he'd ever imagined. She didn't hurt him. Hadn't meant to. She was only trying to scare him off with her threatening stance.

Glancing at the wolf over his shoulder he noticed her black fur coated with mud and rain dripping from the tips of her matted pelt. Snarling and flashing those long canines of hers, gave her a feral appearance. He wondered if Tala was in there somewhere or if he were merely looking at a very large wolf left too long to her own devices. It certainly was Tala's wolf. But, of Tala, he caught only the slightest glimpse of her in the wolf's golden eyes. His wolf reacted to the presence of the she wolf. Roaring in his head to do what his nature dictated he do.

His wolf saw Tala's wolf as his mate. And Drew scrabbled to keep him trapped in the skin they shared. The woods were filled with predators. Bipedal and four legged. And even now, Drew could smell the musky essence of wolf thick in the air. And sense the pair of eyes focused on his back, quietly watching from a distance. The presence of an Alpha male, coolly watched his every move. Carefully, calculating how he could manipulate any sign of weakness to his advantage rankled Drew's wolf. There was only room for one true Alpha in the pack. And it was to Drew's wolf the title belonged. Drew might not be a wolf, per se. He might prefer his human skin and vampire world to that of the pack. Hell, he'd barely begun to scratch the surface of the strange world he'd inherited from his brother. But, he was wolf enough to defend what he considered his.

As much as Drew balked at his wolf's possessiveness, he didn't disagree with his wolf on several key points. The pack was his to defend. Tala was his to defend. These lands and every living, breathing thing in their borders and beyond, the Sons, and the humans, were his ultimate responsibility to defend. His Alpha kingdom knew no boundaries. The vow he'd uttered with trembling lips and his dying human breath two centuries ago made it so.

Engaging her golden hued eyes Drew called on his wolf's alpha presence to calm the snarling she wolf. He hadn't heard from Tala since that fateful morning weeks ago on the bluffs. But, he hadn't exactly sought her out either. That morning, he had made his demands and she had made hers. He would not live a lie. And neither would she. He'd asked her to tell her father the truth about them. And she'd thrown his request back in his face. Asking him how he could demand anything of her, any truth from her, when he could not admit the truth about himself. She claimed he knew nothing of her world and even less about himself. And until he could embrace his other nature, they had nothing more to talk about.

They'd parted company badly. He'd left her standing alone on the bluffs. Running not from her, but the truth in her words. In denying his nature, he was denying everything she lived and breathed for. Tala's priorities were simple, her father, her pack, and her heritage. And in denying the gift his brother had passed onto him. He was not only risking his own life, or hers, but the lives of the entire pack. In denying who and what he was, he denied her of the very things she needed the most. He'd committed an insult no apology could begin to cover. He could not embrace his wolf. Would not. And the wolf was an elemental part of Tala's being. Interwoven into the very fabric of her soul from the time of her birth.

Drew was trying to understand the complexities of his triple nature. So much of him was human. Even more of him was a vampire. And perhaps, the biggest part, the part he'd rather deny existed at all, was the spirit wolf inside of him. When Tala had told him he was more. That he was something not even his wildest dreams could comprehend. She wasn't kidding. Battling a two-sided nature was bad enough. The beast was always within him, hungry, desperate to consume. The man he'd grown up to become tamed the worst of his baser urges-to a degree. He still had his struggles though. And now, with a third being, one of spirit and the soul of a wolf, he was terrified of what he could become. Something less than human, less than a vampire, something less than the man he always thought he was. That nature might win over the other two and he could lose everything he'd worked so hard to gain.

Tala was right when she told him he knew nothing of her world. But, for her, he was trying. His brother had managed a tri-nature for centuries with such grace Drew hadn't known the man he thought his brother was had lived in any other world but the one they'd shared. Pissed off didn't begin to define his feelings toward his brother's secret. But, it was wrong to think ill of the dead. And he constantly had to police his thoughts to keep them from running amok in his head.

His brother was spirit, no longer flesh and blood. And spirits saw what the living did not. They understood what the living had no comprehension of. And they often, interceded on the behalf of those they'd left behind. One day he'd have to face his brother. When his turn came at the shores of the Great River and he'd rather do it with a clear conscience.